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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9405c7a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #65030 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65030) diff --git a/old/65030-0.txt b/old/65030-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5017470..0000000 --- a/old/65030-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11663 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Eminent literary and scientific men of -Italy, Spain, and Portugal Vol. 1 (of 3), by James Montgomery - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Eminent literary and scientific men of Italy, Spain, and - Portugal Vol. 1 (of 3) - -Author: James Montgomery - Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley - -Editor: Dionysius Lardner - -Release Date: April 08, 2021 [eBook #65030] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues at Free Literature (Images generously - made available by The Internet Archive.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EMINENT LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC -MEN OF ITALY, SPAIN, AND PORTUGAL VOL. 1 (OF 3) *** - -THE - -CABINET CYCLOPÆDIA. - - - -CONDUCTED BY THE - -REV. DIONYSIUS LARDNER, LL.D. F.R.S. L. & E. - -M.R.I.A. F.R.A.S. F.L.S. F.Z.S. Hon. F.C.P.S. &c. &c. - - - -ASSISTED BY - -EMINENT LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN. - - - - -EMINENT -LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN -OF ITALY, SPAIN AND PORTUGAL. - - - -VOL. I. - - - -LONDON: - -PRINTED FOR - -LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, & LONGMAN, - -PATERNOSTER-ROW; - -AND JOHN TAYLOR, - -UPPER GOWER STREET. - -1835. - - - - -LIVES - -OF - -EMINENT - -LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN. - - - - - -CONTENTS - -DANTE -PETRARCH -BOCCACCIO -LORENZO DE' MEDICI, &c. -BOJARDO -BERNI -ARIOSTO -MACHIAVELLI - - - - -DANTE ALIGHIERI - -ITALY. 1265-1321. - - -----"'Tis the doom -Of spirits of my order to be rack'd -In life; to wear their hearts out, and consume -Their days in endless strife, and die alone: ---Then future thousands crowd around their tomb, -And pilgrims come from climes where they have known -The name of Him,--who now is but a name; -And wasting homage o'er the sullen stone, -Spread his, by him unheard, unheeded, fame." - -LORD BYRON's _Prophecy of Dante_, Canto I. - - -Among the illustrious fathers of song who, in their own land, cannot -cease to exercise dominion over the minds, characters, and destinies of -all posterity,--and who, beyond its frontiers, must continue to -influence the taste, and help to form the genius, of those who shall -exercise like authority in other countries,--Dante Alighieri is, -undoubtedly, one of the most remarkable. - -This poet was descended from a very ancient stock, which, according to -Boccaccio, traced its lineage to the Roman house of Frangipani,--one of -whose members, surnamed Eliseo, was said to have been an early settler, -if not a principal founder, of the restored city of Florence, in the -reign of Charlemagne, after it had lain desolate for several centuries, -subsequently to its destruction by Attila the Hun. From this Eliseo -sprang a family, of which Dante gives, in the fifteenth and sixteenth -cantos of his "Paradiso," such information, as he thought proper; making -Cacciaguida (one of its most distinguished chiefs, who fell fighting in -the crusade under the emperor Conrad III.,) say, rather ambiguously, of -those who went before him, that "who they were, and whence they came, it -is more honest to keep silence than to tell,"--probably, however, -intending no more than to disclaim vain boasting, but not by any means -to disparage his progenitors, for whom, in the fifteenth canto of the -"Inferno," he seems to claim the glory of having been of Roman descent, -and fathers of Florence. Cacciaguida, having married a noble lady of -Ferrara, gave to one of his sons by her the name of Aldighieri -(afterwards softened to Alighieri), in honour of his consort. This -Alighieri was the grandfather of Dante; and concerning him, Cacciaguida, -in the last-mentioned canto, informs the poet, that, for some unnamed -offence, his spirit has been more than a hundred years pacing round the -first circle of the mountain of purgatory; adding,-- - - -"Ben si convien, che la lunga fatica -Tu gli raccorci con l' opere tue." - -"And well it would be, were his long fatigue -Shorten'd by thy good deeds." - - -Dante was born in the spring of the year 1265. Benvenuta da Immola calls -his father a lawyer; but little more is recorded of him except that he -was twice married, and left two sons and a daughter, at an early age, to -the guardianship of relatives. Dante (abridged from Durante) was born of -Bella, his father's second wife, of whom, during her pregnancy, -Boccaccio relates a very significant dream,--on what authority he does -not say, and with what truth the reader may judge for himself. She -imagined herself sitting under the shade of a lofty laurel, in the midst -of a green meadow, by the side of a brilliant fountain. Here she was -delivered of a boy, who, in as little time as might easily happen in a -dream, grew up into a man before her eyes, by feeding upon the berries -that fell from the tree, and drinking of the pure stream which watered -its roots. Presently he had become a shepherd; but, climbing too eagerly -up the stem to gather some leaves from the laurel, with the fruit of -which he had been hitherto nourished, he fell headlong to the ground, -and on rising appeared no longer a man, but a magnificent peacock. It -would be aggravating the offence of wasting time by quoting such a -fable, were we to give the obvious interpretation. This, however, the -great Boccaccio has done with most magniloquent gravity,--a task for -which, of all men, he was no doubt the most competent, as it is probable -that no soul living (the lady herself not excepted) besides himself was -in the secret either of the vision or the moral. One point of the -latter, which could not easily be guessed, may be mentioned; namely, -that the spots on the peacock's tail (the hundred eyes of Argus) -foreshowed the hundred cantos of the "Divina Commedia." The ingenious -author of the Decameron may have borrowed the idea of this dream from -Dante's own allusion to the laurel and its leaves,--the meed of poets -and of princes,--in his preposterous invocation of Apollo at the -commencement of the "Paradiso." - -Dante himself never alludes to this notable omen, though often -referring, with conscious pride, to his genius, and the circumstances by -which it had been awakened and exercised. This he attributed to the -benign influence of the constellation Gemini, which ruled at his -nativity. In the "Paradiso," Canto XXII., mentioning his flight from the -planetary system to the eighth sphere, where the fixed stars have their -dwelling, he exclaims,-- - - -"O Reader! as I hope once more to reach -That realm of holy triumph[1], for whose sake -I oft lament my sins and smite my breast, -Thou could'st not, in so brief a space, through fire -Have pass'd and pluck'd thy finger, as I saw -And was within the sign that follows Taurus. -O glorious stars! light full of highest virtue! -From whence, whate'er it be, my genius sprang, -With you arose, and set the Sire of life[2], -When first I breathed the Tuscan air. With you -My lot was cast, when grace was given to mount -The lofty wheel which guides your revolutions. -To you, devoutly, my whole soul aspires -To gather courage for the bold adventure -That draws me onward tow'rds itself."[3] - - -Brunetto Latini (his tutor afterwards) is reported to have foretold the -boy's illustrious destiny, on due consultation with the heavenly bodies -that presided at his birth. Yet, superstitious as Dante appears to have -been in this respect, in the twentieth canto of the "Inferno" he -punishes astrologers, and those who presume to predict events, by -twisting their heads over their shoulders, and making those for ever -look backward who, too daringly, had looked forward into inscrutable -futurity. - - -"People I saw within that nether glen, -Silent, and weeping as they went, with slow -Pace, like the chaunters of our litanies.[4] -As I gazed down on them, the chin of each -Seem'd marvellously perverted from the chest, -And from the reins the visage turn'd behind: -Wherefore, since none could look before him, all -Must needs walk backward;--so it may have chanced -To some one palsy-stricken, to be wrench'd -Thus all awry; but I have never seen -Aught like it, nor believe the like hath happened. -Reader,--so help thee Heaven to gather fruit -From this strange lesson!--think within thyself -If I could keep my countenance unwet -When I beheld our image so transposed, -That the eyes wept their tears between the shoulders."[5] - - -Though early deprived of his father by death, Dante appears to have been -well attended to by his relatives and guardians, who placed him for -education under Brunetto Latini and other eminent tutors. He was by them -instructed not only in polite letters, but in those liberal -accomplishments which became his rank and prospects in life. In these he -excelled; yet, while he delighted in horsemanship, falconry, and all the -manly as well as military exercises practised by persons of distinction -in those days, he was, at the same time, so diligent a scholar, that he -readily made himself master of all the crude learning then in vogue. It -is stated by Pelli that, while yet a boy, he entered upon his noviciate -at a convent of the Minor Friars. But his mind was too active and -enterprising to enslave itself to dulness in any form; and he withdrew -before the term of probation was ended. - -According to Boccaccio, before he could be either student, sportsman, -soldier, or monk, he became a lover; and a lover thenceforward to the -end of his life he appears to have remained, with a passion so pure and -unearthly, that it has been gravely questioned whether his mistress were -a real or an imaginary being. The former, however, happening to be quite -as probable as the latter, all true youths and maidens will naturally -choose to believe that which is most pleasant, and give the credence of -the heart to every eulogium which the poet, throughout his works, has -lavished upon his Beatrice, whatever greybeards may think of the -following story:--One fine May-day, when, according to the custom of the -country, parties of both sexes used to meet in family circles, and, -under the roofs of common friends, rejoice on the return of the genial -season, Folco Portinari, a Florentine of no mean parentage, had invited -a great number of neighbours to partake of his hospitality. As it was -common on such occasions for children to accompany their relatives, -Dante Alighieri, then in his ninth year, had the good fortune to be -present; where, mingling with many other young folks, in their afternoon -sports, he singled out, with the second sight of the future poet, that -one whom his verse was destined to eternise. The little lady, a year -younger than himself, was _Bicè_ (the familiar abbreviation of -_Beatricè_), daughter of the gentleman at whose house the festivities -were held. She need not be pictured here; for premature as such a fit -must have been, every one who remembers a first love, at any age, will -know how she looked, how she spoke, how she stepped, and how her hero -felt,--growing at every instant greater and better, and braver in his -own esteem, that he might become worthy of hers:--suffice it to say, -from Boccaccio, that Dante, though but a boy, received her beautiful -image into his heart with such fondness of affection, that, from that -day, it never departed thence. - -In his "Vita Nuova" (a romantic and sentimental retrospect of his -youth), he has himself described his raptures and his agonies in the -commencement and progress of this passion; which was not extinguished, -but refined; not buried with her body, but translated with its object, -(her soul,) when Beatrice died, in 1290, at the age of twenty-four -years. Judging from the general tenor of his poetry, of which his -mistress was at once the inspirer and the theme, it must be presumed -that the lady returned his noble attachment with corresponding -tenderness and delicacy; though why they were not united by marriage has -never been told. He intimates, indeed, that it was long before he could -learn, by any token from herself, that his faithful passion was not -hopeless. As usual in cases of this kind, a most unpoetical accident has -been ill-naturedly interposed, by truth or tradition, to spoil a charm -almost too exquisite to be more than a charm which the breath of five -words might break. On the evidence of a marriage certificate, which Time -unluckily dropped in his flight, and some poring antiquary picked up a -century or two afterwards, it seems as though Beatrice became the wife -of a cavalier de Bardi. Dante himself, however (who pretends to no -bosom-secrets too dark to be uttered), never alludes to such a blight of -his prospects on this side of that threefold world which he was -afterwards privileged to explore, at her spontaneous intercession, that -he might be purged from every baser flame than entire affection to -herself, while she gave him in the eighth heaven a heart divided only -with her God. After her decease, he intimates that he was tempted to -infidelity to her memory (in which she was the bride of his soul), by -the appearance at a window of a lady who so much resembled his "late -deceased saint," that he almost forgot _her_ in retracing her own -loveliness in the features of this new apparition. His tears flowed -freely at the sight; and he felt comforted by the sympathy of the -beautiful stranger in his sufferings. But when, after a little while, he -found love to the living symbol growing up like a serpent among the -flowers, he fled in terror from it, before the gaze which had gained -such power over his senses had irrevocably fascinated him to -destruction; and he bewailed, in the most humiliating terms, the frailty -of his heart and the wandering of his eyes. It is, moreover, the glory -of his great work that the posthumous affection of Beatrice herself is -represented as having so troubled her spirit, that, even amidst the -blessedness of Paradise, she devised means whereby her lover might be -reclaimed from the irregularities into which he had fallen after her -restraining presence had been withdrawn from him on earth, and that he -might be prepared, by visions of the eternal world, for future and -everlasting companionship with her in heaven. - -Dante, as he grew up to manhood, and for several years afterwards, -continued successfully to pursue his studies in the universities of -Padua, Bologna, and Paris. In the latter city he is said to have held -various theological disputations, alike creditable to his learning, -eloquence, and acuteness; though, from the failure of pecuniary means, -he could not remain long enough there to obtain academical honours. On -the authority of Giovanni da Serraville, bishop of Fermo, it has been -believed that he also visited Oxford, where, as elsewhere, his different -exercises gained him,--according to the respective tastes of his -admirers,--from some the praise of being a great philosopher, from -others a great divine, and, from the rest, a great poet. Serraville, at -the request of cardinal Saluzzo and two English bishops, (Nicholas -Bubwith, of Bath, and Robert Halam, of Salisbury,) whom he met at the -council of Constance, translated Dante's "Divina Commedia" into Latin -prose; of which one manuscript copy only, with a commentary annexed, is -known to be in existence, in the Vatican library. The extraordinary -interest which the two English prelates took in Dante's poem may be -regarded as indirect, though of course very indecisive, evidence of his -having been personally known at our famous university, and having been -honourably remembered there. It is, however, certain that, soon after -his decease, the "Divina Commedia" was in high repute among the few in -this country who, during the reigns of Edward III. and Richard II., in a -chivalrous age, cultivated polite letters. This is apparent from the -numerous imitations of passages in it by Chaucer, who was then -attempting to do for England what his magnificent prototype had recently -done for Italy. - -Uncertain as the traditions concerning this portion of Dante's life (and -indeed of every other) may be, there is no doubt that he became early -and intimately acquainted with the reliques of all the Roman writers -then known in Italy. Among these, Virgil, Ovid, and Statius were his -favourites, and naturally so, as excelling (each according to his -peculiar genius) in marvellous and beautiful narrative, to which their -youthful admirer's own sublime and daring genius intuitively led him. At -the same time, he not less courageously and patiently groped his way -through the labyrinths of school divinity, and the dark caverns of what -was then deemed philosophy, under the bewildering guidance of Duns -Scotus and Thomas Aquinas. Full proof of the improvement which he made, -both under classical and polemical tutors and prototypes, may be traced -in all his compositions, prose as well as verse, from the earliest to -the last: yet, that which was his own, it must be acknowledged, is ever -the best; and if, in addition to a large proportion of this, there had -not been a savour of originality communicated to every thing which he -borrowed or had been taught, his works must have perished with those of -his contemporaries, who are now either nameless, or survive only as -names in the titles of unread and unreadable volumes. - -During this season of seed time for the mind, we are told that, -notwithstanding his indefatigable labours in the acquirement and -cultivation of knowledge, he appeared so cheerful, frank, and generous -in deportment and disposition, that nobody would have imagined him to be -such a devotee to literature in the stillness of the closet, or the open -field of college exercises. On the contrary, he passed in public for a -gallant and highbred man of the world; following its customs and -fashions, so far as might be deemed consistent in a person of honour, -and independence,--qualities on which he sufficiently prided himself; -for which, also, in after life, he dearly paid the price,--and paid it, -like Aristides, by banishment. - -But Beatrice dying in 1290[6], her lover is reported to have fallen into -such a state of despondency, that his friends, fearing the most -frightful effects upon his reason not less than upon his health, -persuaded him, as a last resource, to marry. Accordingly he took to wife -Madonna Gemma, of the house of Donati; one of the most powerful families -of Tuscany, and unhappily one of the most turbulent where few could be -called pacific. By her he had five sons and a daughter. Her husband's -biographers (with few exceptions) have conspired to darken this lady's -memory with the stigma of being an insufferable shrew, who rendered his -life a martyrdom by domestic discomforts. Aline in the "Inferno," Canto -XVI., in which one of the lost spirits, Jacopo Rusticci, says, - - -"La fiera moglie, più ch' altro, mi nuoce," - -"More than aught else, my furious wife annoys me,"-- - - -has often been quoted as referring, with indirect bitterness, to his own -miserable union with a firebrand of a woman: yet, in no passage -throughout the whole of his long poem, does Dante cast the slightest -shade upon her character; though, with the frankness of honest censure -or undisguised resentment, he spares nobody else, friend or foe, in the -distribution of what he deemed impartial justice. One thing is -exceedingly in favour of his own amiable and affectionate nature, in the -nearest connections of life: whenever he mentions children in his -similes (and he mentions them often), it is always with exquisite -delicacy or endearing playfulness; while, in the tenderest tones, he -descants on their beauty, their innocence, their sports, and their -sufferings. Mothers, too, are among the loveliest objects which he -presents in those sweet interludes of real life which he delights to -bring in, and does so with consummate address, to relieve the horrors of -the infernal pit, the wearying pains of purgatory, and the insufferable -glories of Paradise. Concerning Dante's wife it may therefore be fairly -presumed, that she was less of either termagant or tormentor than has -been generally imagined by his over-zealous editors. The petulance of -Boccaccio and the gravity of Aretino (two of his earliest biographers) -on this subject are ludicrously contrasted. The former affects to be -quite shocked at the idea of the sublime and contemplative poet being -forced to lead the dull household life of other men, and submit to -certain petty annoyances of daily occurrence.--On these he expatiates -most pathetically, as things which _might have been_, though he fairly -acknowledges that he does not know that any of them _were_, the causes -of long unhappiness and final separation between the parties. Aretino, -on the other hand, in sober sadness (without any reference to the ill -qualities of either), justifies Dante for condescending to be married, -on the ground that many illustrious philosophers, including Socrates, -the greatest of all, were husbands and fathers, and held offices of -state, in perfect compatibility with their intellectual pursuits! - -It should not be overlooked, in mitigation of her occasional asperities, -that, Madonna Gemma being the near kinswoman of Corso Donati, Dante's -most formidable and inveterate rival in the party feuds of Florence, -some drops of the gall of political rancour may have been infused into -the matrimonial cup. The poet's known and avowed passion for Beatrice, -living and dead, was alone sufficient to afflict a high-minded woman -with the rankling consciousness that she had not all her husband's -heart. It is, moreover, no small proof of her submission to his will and -pleasure, that their only daughter bore the name of his -first--last--only love, if we are to believe all the protestations of -his verse. Be these things as they may, it must be concluded that he was -coupled with a most unpoetical yoke-mate; and she with a lord and master -not easy to be ruled by her or any body else. It has been loosely stated -that "the poet, not possessing the patience of Socrates, separated -himself from his wife, with such vehement expressions of dislike that he -never afterwards allowed her to sit down in his presence." When this -happened--if it ever so happened--does not appear; nothing further seems -certain, except that she did not follow her husband into exile: but -Boccaccio himself acknowledges, that after that event, having secured -(not without difficulty) a small portion of his effects from -confiscation as her dower, she preserved herself and their little -children from the wretchedness of absolute poverty, by such expedients -of industry and economy as she had never before been accustomed to -practise. - -It has been already intimated, that, though in all the logomachies of -the schools Dante was an eager and skilful disputant, yet he was left -behind by none of his contemporaries in those personal accomplishments -which became his station. In the mean while he cultivated with -constitutional ardour and diligence those higher qualifications, which, -in the sequel, enabled him to serve his country as a citizen, a soldier, -and a magistrate, under circumstances that called forth all his talents, -valour, firmness, wisdom, and discretion; though, judging from the -issue, the latter failed him oftener than the former. Eloquent, brave, -and resolute he always was; but not always wise and discreet. This, -indeed, might be presumed; for in the pursuit of distinction,--instead -of attaching himself to the selfish and mercenary professions which -oftenest lead to wealth, power, and family aggrandisement,--he preferred -those generous studies which most exalt, enrich, and adorn the mind, but -yet, while they gratify the taste of their votary, rather advance him in -moral and intellectual eminence than to temporal and substantial -prosperity. These, therefore, were exercises calculated to awaken and -display the energies and resources of a temper formed to conceive, -attempt, and achieve great things, so far--and perhaps so far only--as -depended on his individual exertions. In the solitary case wherein he -had official authority to direct difficult public affairs he failed so -irrecoverably, that, during the residue of his life, he was more a -sufferer than an actor in the troubles of those hideous times. - -Italy, it must be observed, was still distracted with strife, in every -form that strife could assume, between the factions of the Guelfs and -Ghibellines;--the former, adherents of the pope; the latter, of the -emperor of Germany. These factions not only arrayed state against state, -but frequently divided people of the same province, the same city, and -the same family against one another, in the most violent and implacable -hostility,--hostility, violent in proportion as it was irrational, and -implacable in proportion as it was unnatural; being, in every instance, -and on both sides, contrary to the interests of their respective -communities. Lombardy, especially since the Cisalpine conquests of -Charlemagne, had never ceased to be a snare to his successors. The -popes, who at first had affected spiritual dominion only, after the -grant of territorial possessions, by that deed of Constantine to -Silvester, which, having disappeared from earth, may be found, according -to the veritable testimony of Ariosto, in the moon, the receptacle of -all lost things[7], gradually aspired to secular power. But all their -ambition and influence failed, in the end, to spread their secular -sovereignty beyond those provinces adjacent to Rome, which they yet -retain by courtesy of the catholic potentates of Europe. - -At the time of Dante's birth, the Guelf or papal party had recently -recovered their ascendancy at Florence, after having been expatriated -for several years, in consequence of their disastrous overthrow at the -battle of Monte Aperto. The poet was therefore educated in Guelfic -principles, and adhered to them till his banishment, when the perfidious -interference of the pope with the independence of his native city, and -the atrocious hostility of its citizens against himself and his friends, -compelled him to take part with the imperialists. - -The first public character in which we find the patriotic poet -distinguishing himself was that of a soldier. In one of the petty wars -that were perpetually occurring between the little irascible republics -in the north of Italy, the Florentines gained a decisive victory over -their neighbours of Arezzo (who had harboured the Ghibelline refugees), -at the battle of Campaldino, A. D. 1289. On this occasion, Dante, who -served among the cavalry, was not only exposed to imminent peril at the -commencement of the action, when that body was partially routed by the -impetuosity of the enemy's charge, but when the squadron had rallied -again on reaching the lines of infantry, and thence returned to the -attack, he fought in the first rank, and displayed such extraordinary -valour, as to claim a proud share in the glory of that day. To this -conflict, and the particular service in which he had been engaged, he -seems to allude in Canto XXII. of the Inferno. Having mentioned the -signal given by Barbariccia (serjeant of a file of demons, appointed to -escort Dante and Virgil over a certain dangerous pass on their -journey,)--a signal too absurd to be repeated here, either in English or -Italian, he says:-- - - -"I have seen cavalry upon their march, -Hush to the combat, rally on the field, -And sometimes seek for safety in retreat: -I have seen jousts and tournaments array'd; -Seen clouds of skirmishers sweep through your fields, -Ye Aretines! and spoilers, lay them waste; -Drum, cymbal, trumpet, beacon from tower-top, -And other strange or native things their signals; -But never, at the blast of instrument -So barbarous have witness'd horse or foot, -Or ship, by star or landmark, put in motion: ---With those ten demons thus we took our way; -Fell company! but, as the proverb saith, -At church with saints, with gluttons in the tavern."[8] - - -In the following year Dante was again in the field, at the siege of -Caprona. To this he alludes in Canto XXI. of the Inferno, where, under -convoy of the aforementioned fiends, he compares his fears lest they -should break truce with him and his companion, to the apprehensions of -the garrison of that fortress when they marched out on condition of -being permitted to depart unmolested with their arms and property; but -were so terrified, on seeing the multitude and the rage of their -enemies, who cried, "Stop them! stop them! kill them! kill them!" as -they passed along, that they submitted to be sent in irons, as -prisoners, to Lucca, for safeguard. - - -"Wherefore I moved right on towards my guide, -The devils marshalling themselves before, -For much I fear'd lest they should not keep faith: -So saw I once Caprona's garrison -Come trembling forth, upon capitulation, -To find themselves among so many foes. -I crouch'd with my whole frame beside my master, -Nor could I turn mine eyes away from watching -Their physiognomy, which was not good."[9] - - -During this active period of his citizenship, Dante is stated to have -been frequently employed on important embassies; and, among others, to -the kings of Naples, Hungary, and France; in all of which his eloquence -and address enabled him to acquit himself with honour and advantage to -his country: but as there is no allusion in any of his works, even to -the most distinguished of these, it is very questionable whether the -traditions are not, in many cases, wholly unwarranted; and probably -founded upon misapprehension of the verbiage and bombast of Boccaccio, -in his account of the political, philosophical, and literary labours of -his hero. - -In the year 1300, Dante was chosen, by the suffrages of the people, -chief prior of his native city; and from that era of his arrival at the -highest honour to which his ambition could aspire, he himself dated all -the miseries which (like the file of evil spirits above mentioned) -accompanied him thenceforward to the end of his life. In one of his -epistles, quoted by Aretino, he says,--"All my calamities had their -origin and occasion in my unhappy priorship, of which, though I might -not for my wisdom have been worthy, yet on the ground of age and -fidelity was I not unworthy; ten years having elapsed since the battle -of Campaldino, in which the Ghibelline party was routed and nearly -exterminated; wherein, also, I proved myself no novice in arms, but -experienced great perils in the various fortunes of the fight, and the -highest gratification in the issue of it." Since that triumph, the -Guelfs had maintained undisputed predominance in Tuscany; but the -citizens of Florence split into two minor factions as bitterly opposed -to each other as the Guelfs and Ghibellines. - -The following circumstance (considerably varied in particulars by -different narrators) has been mentioned as the origin of this -schism:--Two branches of the family of Cancellieri divided the patronage -of Pistoia, which was then subject to Florence, between them. The heads -of these were Gulielmo and Bertaccio. In playing at snow-balls, a son of -the first happened to give the son of the second a black eye. Gulielmo, -knowing the savage disposition of his kinsman, immediately sent his son -to offer submission for the unlucky hit. Bertaccio, eager to avail -himself of a pretext for quarrelling with the rival section of his -house, seized the boy, and chopped off the hand which flung the -snowball, drily observing, that blows could only be compensated by -blows--not with words. Another version of the story is, that the young -gentlemen, quarrelling over some game, drew their swords, when one -wounded the other in the face; in retribution for which, Foccacio, -brother to the latter, cut off his offending cousin's hand. The father -of the mutilated lad immediately called upon his friends to avenge the -inhuman outrage; Bertaccio's dependants not less promptly armed -themselves to maintain his cause; and a civil war was ready to break out -in the heart of the city. An ancestor of the Cancellieri family having -married a lady named _Bianchi_, in honour of her one of the parties took -the denomination of _Bianchi_ (whites), when the other, in defiance, -assumed the reverse, and styled themselves _Neri_ (blacks). - -This happened during the priorship of Dante, who, with the approbation -of his colleagues, summoned the leaders of the antagonist factions to -repair to Florence, to prevent that extremity of violence with which -they threatened not Pistoia only, but the whole commonwealth. This, as -Leonardo Bruni observes, was importing the plague to the capital, -instead of taking means to repress it upon the spot where it had already -appeared. For it so fell out, that Florence itself was principally under -the influence of two great families,--the Cerchi and the -Donati,--habitually jealous of one another, and each watching for -opportunity to obtain the ascendancy. When, therefore, the hostages for -preserving the peace of Pistoia arrived, the Bianchi were hospitably -entertained by the Cerchi, and the Neri by the Donati; the natural -consequence of which was, that the people of Florence were far more -annoyed by the acquisition, than those of the neighbouring city were -benefited by the riddance of so troublesome a crew. What these -incendiary spirits had been doing in a small place, on a small scale, -they forthwith began to do on a large scale, in a large place. -Jealousies, fears, and antipathies were easily awakened among the -families with which the partisans respectively associated. From these, -through every rank of citizens down to the lowest, the contagion spread; -first seizing the youth, who were sanguine and restless, but soon -infecting persons of all ages; till every man who had a mind or an arm -to influence or to act, enlisted himself with one side or the other. In -the course of a few months, from whisperings the discontents rose to -clamours, from words to blows, and from feuds in private dwellings to -battles in the streets; so that not the metropolis only, but the whole -territory, became involved in unnatural contention. - -While this was in process, the heads of the Neri held a meeting by night -in the church of the Holy Trinity, at which a plan was suggested to -induce pope Boniface VIII. to constitute Charles of Valois, (who was -brother to Philip the Fair, king of France, and then commanded an army -under his holiness against the emperor,) mediator of differences and -reformer-general of abuses in the state. The Bianchi, having received -information of this clandestine assembly, and the unpatriotic project -which had been devised at it, took grievous umbrage, and went in a body, -with arms in their hands, to the chief prior, with whom they -remonstrated sharply upon what they deemed a privy conspiracy hatched -for the purpose of expelling themselves and their friends from the city; -at the same time demanding summary punishment on the offenders. The -Neri, alarmed in their turn, flew likewise to arms, and assailed the -prior with the same complaint and demand reversed,--namely, that their -adversaries had plotted to drive them (the Neri) into exile under false -pretences; and requiring that they (the Bianchi) should be sent into -banishment, to preserve the public tranquillity. - -The danger was imminent, and prompt decision to avert it indispensable. -The prior and magistrates, therefore, by the advice of Dante their -chief, who was the Cicero in this double conspiracy, though neither so -politic nor so fortunate as his eloquent archetype, appealed to the -people at large to support the executive government; and, having -conciliated their favour, banished the principal instigators of tumult -on both sides, including Corso Donati (Dante's wife's kinsman) of the -Neri party, who, with his accomplices, was confined in the castle of -Pieve in Perugia; while Guido Cavalcanti (Dante's own particular friend) -and others of the Bianchi faction were sent to Serrazana. - -This disturbance, and the severe remedy necessary to be adopted, -painfully tried the best feelings of Dante, who seems to have acted on -truly independent principles in the affair, though suspected at the time -of favouring the Bianchi. That, indeed, was probable; for though as -chief magistrate he knew no man by his colours, yet, being a genuine -Florentine,--and such he remained when Florence had banished and -proscribed him,--he could not but he opposed to so preposterous a scheme -as that of bringing in a stranger to lord it over his native city, under -pretence of assuaging the animosities of malecontents, who cared for -nothing but their own personal, family, or party aggrandisement, at the -expense of the common weal. - -This apparent impartiality was openly arraigned, when the Bianchi exiles -were permitted to come back after a short absence, while the Neri -remained under proscription. Dante vindicated himself by saying, that he -had attached himself to neither party; that in condemning the heads of -both he had acted solely for the public safety; and at home had used his -utmost endeavours to reconcile the adverse families, who had implicated -all their fellow-citizens in their feuds. With respect to the return of -the Bianchi, he denied that it had been allowed on his authority, his -priorate having expired before that event took place; and, moreover, -that their release had been rendered necessary by the premature death of -Guido Cavalcanti, who had been killed by the pestilent air of Serrazana. -The pope, however, eagerly availed himself of the opportunity as a plea -for sending Charles of Valois to Florence, to restore tranquillity by -conciliation. That prince accordingly entered the city in triumph at the -head of his troops, with a solemn assurance that liberty, property, and -personal safety should in no instance be violated. In consequence of -this he was well received by the people; but he had no sooner seated -himself in influence than he obtained the recall of the Neri, who were -his partisans. Then, having secured his authority by their presence, he -threw off the mask, and began to play the part of dictator within the -walls, as well as throughout the adjacent territory, by causing 600 of -the principal men of the Bianchi to be driven forth into exile. - -At the time of this expatriation of his friends, Dante was absent, -having undertaken an embassy to Rome to solicit the good offices of the -pope towards pacifying his fellow-citizens without foreign interference. -Boccaccio records a singular specimen at once of his self-confidence, -and his disparagement of others, which, if true, betrays the most -unamiable feature of his character, and throws additional light on a -circumstance not otherwise well accounted for,--why, with all his -admirable qualities, Dante was unhappy in domestic life, and in public -life made so many and such inveterate enemies.--When his associates in -the government proposed this embassy to him, he haughtily enquired,--"If -I go, who will stay? If I stay, who will go?" It was fortunate for the -poet that his holiness and himself, on this occasion, were unconsciously -playing at cross purposes, though he was beaten in the game,--the very -intervention which he had gone to deprecate taking place whilst he was -on the journey. Had he been at home, it is not improbable that death, -rather than banishment with the Bianchi, would have been his lot, from -the exasperation of the Neri against him individually, whom they -regarded as the chief agent in their disgrace and exile, as well as the -patron of their rivals. It is remarkable that the pretext on which the -failing party were now expelled was, that _they_ had secretly intrigued -with Pietro Ferranti, the confidant of Charles of Valois, to give him -the castle of Prato, on condition that he prevailed upon his master to -allow them the ascendancy under him in Florence. Charles himself -countenanced the accusation, and affected high displeasure at the -insulting offer, as derogatory to his immaculate purity; though the -purport of it was no other than to concede to him the express object of -his ambition, if he would grant to the Bianchi faction what he did grant -to the perfidious Neri. A document was long preserved as the genuine -letter to Ferranti, with the seals and signatures of the principal -Bianchi attached, containing the traitorous proposal; but Leonardo -Aretino, who had himself seen it in the public archives, declares his -perfect conviction that it was a forgery. - -Of participation in such baseness (had his partisans been really guilty -of it), Dante must stand clearly acquitted by every one who takes his -character from the matter-of-fact statements, perverted as they are, of -his adversaries themselves, much more from the unimpeachable evidence of -his own writings;--open, undaunted, high-spirited, and generous as a -friend, he was not less violent, acrimonious, and undisguisedly -vindictive as an enemy. So exasperated, however, were the Neri against -him, that they demolished his dwelling, confiscated his property, and -decreed a fine of 8000 lire against him, with banishment for two years; -not for any crime of which he had been convicted, but under pretence of -contumacy, because he did not appear to a citation which had been issued -when they knew him to be absent,--absent, it might be said, on their own -business (his mission to Rome), where he could not be aware of the -nature of his imputed offence till he heard of the condign punishment -with which it had been thus prematurely visited. In the course of a few -weeks a further inculpation of Dante and his associates was promulged, -under which they were condemned to perpetual exile, with the merciless -provision that, if any of them thereafter fell into the hands of their -persecutors, they should be burnt alive. And this execrable measure -seems to have been determined upon before the exiled party had made any -attempt, by force of arms, to reenter Florence. - -When Dante was informed at Rome of the revolution in Florence, he -hastened to Siena, where, learning the full extent of his misfortune, he -was driven, it may be said, by necessity to join himself to his homeless -countrymen in that neighbourhood, who were concerting (though with -little of mutual confidence, and miserably inadequate means) how they -might compel their fellow-citizens to receive them back. Arezzo, the -city of the Aretines (with whom Dante had combated at Campaldino), -afforded them an asylum, and became the headquarters of the Bianchi; who -thenceforward, from being, like the Neri, Guelfs, transferred their -affections, or rather their wrongs and their vengeance, to the -Ghibellines; deeming the adherents of the emperor less the enemies of -their country than their adversaries were. Their affairs were managed by -a council of twelve, of whom Dante was one. Great numbers of -malecontents from Bologna, Pistoia, and the adjacent provinces of -Northern Italy, gradually flocking to their standard,--in the course of -two years they were sufficiently strong to take the field with a force -of cavalry and foot exceeding 10,000, under count Alessandro da Romena, -and to commence active hostilities. By a bold and sudden march, they -attempted to surprise Florence itself, and were so far successful that -their advanced guard got possession of one of the gates; but the main -body being attacked and defeated on the outside of the walls, the former -gallant corps was overpowered by the garrison; and the enterprise -itself, after the campaign of a few days, was abandoned altogether. -Dante, according to general belief, accompanied this unfortunate -expedition; and so did Pietro Petracco, the father of the celebrated -Petrarca (Petrarch), who had been expelled with the Bianchi from -Florence; and it is stated, that on the very night on which the army of -the exiles marched against the city, Petracco's wife Eletta gave birth -to the poet who was to succeed Dante as the glory of his country's -literature. - -After this miscarriage Dante quitted the confederacy, disgusted by the -bickerings, jealousies, and bad faith of the heterogeneous and -unmanageable multitude, which, common calamities had driven together, -but could not cement by common interests. The poet refers to this motley -and discordant crew in the latter lines of the celebrated passage, in -which he represents his ancestor. Cacciaguida, as prophesying his future -banishment with the miseries and mortifications which he should suffer -from the ingratitude of his countrymen:-- - - -"For thou must leave behind thee every thing -Thine heart holds dearest.--This will be the first -Shaft which the bow of exile shoots against thee: -And thou must prove how salt the bread that's eaten -At others' tables, and how hard the path -To climb and to go down a stranger's stairs: -But what shall weigh the heaviest on thy shoulders, -Will be the base and evil company -With which thy lot hath cast thee in that valley; -For every thankless, lawless, reckless wretch -Shall turn against thee:--yet confusion, soon, -Of face shall cover them, not thee, with blushes; -Their brutishness will be so manifest, -That to have stood alone will be thy glory."[10] - -_Del Paradiso_, XVII. - - -To the personal humiliations of which he chewed the cud in hitter -secrecy, through years of heart-breaking dependence on the precarious -bounty of others, there is a striking but forced allusion at the close -of the eleventh canto of the "Purgatorio." Dante enquires concerning a -proud spirit bent double under a huge burden of stones, which he is -condemned to carry for as many years as he had lived, till he shall he -sufficiently humbled to pass muster through the flames into Paradise. -This is Provenzano Salvani, who for his acts of outrageous tyranny would -have been doomed to a much harder penance, but for one good deed.--A -friend of his being kept prisoner by Charles of Anjou, and threatened -with death unless a ransom of 10,000 golden florins were paid for his -freedom, Salvani so far degraded himself as to stand (to kneel, say -some,) in the public market-place of Siena, with a carpet spread on the -ground before him, imploring, with the cries and importunity of a common -beggar, the charitable contributions of every passenger towards raising -the required sum. This he accomplished, and his friend was saved. - - -"'He in his height of glory,' said the other, -'Casting aside all shame, spontaneously, -Stood in the market of Siena, begging; -He, to redeem his friend from infamy -And death, in Charles's dungeons, did what made him -Tremble through every vein.--No more; my speech -Is dark; thy countrymen, ere long, will do -That which will help thee to interpret it."[11] - - -In despair of being able to force his way, sword in hand, back to -Florence, Dante next endeavoured, by supplicating the good offices of -individuals connected with the government, by expostulatory addresses to -the people, and even by appeals to foreign princes, to obtain a reversal -of his unrighteous sentence. Disappointment, however, followed upon -disappointment, till, hope deferred having made the heart sick, he grew -so impatient under the sense of wrong and ignominy, that he again had -recourse to the summary but perilous redress of violence;--not indeed by -force which _he_ could command, though one in a million for energy, -courage, and perseverance; but a powerful auxiliary having appeared in -1308, he gave up his whole soul to the main object of his desire at this -time,--the chastisement of his inexorable fellow-citizens. Henry of -Luxembourg, having been raised to the throne of Germany, eagerly -engaged, like his predecessors, in the delusive contest for the "Iron -crown" of Italy, though "Luke's iron crown"[12] (placed red hot on the -brow of an unsuccessful aspirant to that of Hungary) was hardly more -painful or more certainly fatal than this, except that it was far more -expeditious in putting the wearer out of torture. Dante now rose from -the dust of self-abasement, openly professed himself a Ghibelline, and -changed his tones of supplication into those of menace against his -refractory countrymen. Henry himself denounced terrible retribution upon -the Guelfs, and at the head of an army invaded the Florentine territory; -from which, however, he was compelled to make an early retreat; and the -magnificent flourish of drums and trumpets, with which the imperial -actor entered, was followed by a dead march, that closed the scene -before he had turned round upon the stage--except to hurry away. He died -in 1313, poisoned, it was reported, by a consecrated wafer. To this -prince Dante dedicated his political treatise, in Latin, "De Monarchia," -in which he eloquently asserts the rights of the emperor in Italy -against the usurpations of the pope. He has been accused of exciting -Henry to abandon the siege of Brescia, and undertake that of Florence; -though, from regard to his native land, he himself forebore to accompany -the expedition. He had affected no such scruple when the Bianchi, like -trodden worms, turned upon the parent foot which spurned them from the -soil where they were bred. There must, therefore, have been some other -motive than patriotism,--nobody will suspect that it was -cowardice,--which restrained him from witnessing the expected -humiliation of his persecutors. - -Several of his biographers state, that after this consummation of his -ruin,--a third decree having been passed against him at Florence,--the -poet retired into France, and strove to reconcile his unsubdued spirit -to his fate, or to forget both it and himself in those fashionable -theological controversies, for which he was, perhaps, better qualified -than either for the council-chamber or the battle-field. This, however, -is doubtful, and, in fact, very improbable, when we recollect that, next -to the malice of the Neri, he was indebted for his misfortunes to -Charles of Valois, their patron, who was brother to Philip the Fair, -king of France. Be this as it may, the remainder of Dante's life was -spent in wandering from one petty court to another, in exile and -poverty, accepting the means of subsistence, almost as alms, from -lukewarm friends, from hospitable strangers, and even from generous -adversaries. Hence we trace him, at uncertain periods, through Lombardy, -Tuscany, and Romagna, as an admitted, welcomed, admired, or merely a -tolerated guest, according to the liberality or caprice of his patrons -for the time being. Little more can be recorded of these "evil days" and -"years," of which he was compelled to say, "I have no pleasure in them," -than a few questionable anecdotes of his caustic humour, and the names -of some of those who showed him kindness in his affliction. - -Among the latter may be honourably mentioned Busone da Gubbio, who first -afforded him shelter at Arezzo, whither he himself had been banished -from Florence as an incorrigible Ghibelline; but being a brother poet, -he was too noble to let political prejudice (Dante was at that time a -Guelf) interfere either with his compassion towards an illustrious -fugitive, or his veneration for those rare talents which ought every -where to have raised the unhappy possessor above contempt, though, in -some instances, they seem to have exposed him to it. Yet he knew well -how to resent indignity. While residing at Verona with Can' Grande de la -Scala (one of his most distinguished protectors), it happened one day, -according to the rude usages of those times, that the prince's jester, -or some casual buffoon about the palace, was introduced at table, to -divert the high-born company there with his waggeries. In this the arch -fellow succeeded so egregiously, that Dante, from scorn or -mortification, showed signs of chagrin, whereupon Can'Grande -sarcastically asked,--"How comes it, Dante, that you, with all your -learning and genius, cannot delight me and my friends half so much as -this fool does with his ribaldry and grimaces?"--"Because _like loves -like_," was the pithy retort of the poet, in the phrase of the proverb. -Another story of the kind is told by Cinthio Geraldi.--On occasion of a -jovial entertainment, Can' Grande, or his jester, had placed a little -boy under the table, to gather all the bones that were thrown down upon -the floor by the guests, and lay them about the feet of Dante. After -dinner these were unexpectedly shown above board, as tokens of his -feasting prowess. "You have done great things to day!" exclaimed the -prince, affecting surprise at such an exhibition. "Far otherwise," -returned the poet; "for if I had been a dog, (_Cane_, his patron's -name,) I should have devoured bones and all, as it appears you have -done."[13] - -Other grandees, who gave the indignant wanderer an occasional asylum -from the blasts of persecution, were the marchese Malespina, who, though -belonging to the antagonist party, cordially entertained him in -Lunigiana; the conte Guido Salvatico, of Cassentino; the signori della -Faggiuolo, among the mountains of Urbino; and also the fathers of the -monastery of Santa Croce di Fonte Avellana, in the district of Gubbio. -In this romantic retreat, according to the Latin inscription under a -marble bust of him against a wall in one of the chambers, Dante is -recorded to have written a considerable portion of the "Divina -Commedia." In a tower belonging to the conti Falucci, in the same -territory, there is a tradition that he was often employed in the like -manner. At the castle of Tulmino, the residence of the patriarch of -Aquileia, a rock has been pointed out as a favourite resort of the -inspired poet, while engaged in that marvellous and melancholy -composition. - - -"There, nobly pensive, _Dante_ sat and thought." - - -Marius, banished from his country, and resting upon the ruins of -Carthage, may have appeared a more august and mournful object; but -Dante, in exile, want, and degradation, on a lonely crag, meditating -thoughts, combining images, and creating a language for both in which -they should for ever speak, presents a far more sublime and touching -spectacle of fallen grandeur renovating itself under decay. Marius, -having "mewed his mighty youth," flew back to Rome like the eagle to his -quarry, surfeited himself with vengeance, and died in a debauch of -blood, leaving a name to be execrated through all generations: Dante did -not return to Florence; living or dead he did not return; but his name, -cast out and abhorred as it had been, stands the earliest and the -greatest of a long line of Tuscan poets, rivalling the most illustrious -of their country, not excepting those of even Rome and Ferrara. - -Dante's last and most magnanimous patron was Guido Novello da Polenta, -lord of Ravenna, who was himself a poet, and a munificent benefactor of -men of letters. This nobleman was the father of Francesca di Rimini, -whose fatal love has given her a place on the most splendid page of the -"Divina Commedia;" no other episode being told with equal beauty and -pathos: yet so brief and simple is the narrative, that, even if the -circumstances were as unexceptionably pure as they are insidiously -delicate, translation ought hardly to be attempted; for the labour would -be fruitless. Dante himself could not have given his masterpiece in -precisely corresponding terms in another language; though, had any other -been his own, it need not be doubted that in it he would have found -words to tell his tale as well. It is not what a poet finds a language -to be, but what he makes it, that constitutes the charm, not to be -imitated, of his style. This is the despair of translators, though few -seem to have suspected the existence of such a secret. - -The mental sufferings of the poet during his nineteen years of -banishment, ending in death, oftener find utterance, through his -writings, in bitter invectives and prophetic denunciations against his -enemies and traducers, than in strains of lamentation; yet would his -wounds bleed afresh, and the anguish of his spirit be renewed with all -the tenderness of wronged but passionate attachment, at every endeared -recollection of the land of his nativity;--the city where he had been -cradled and had grown up--where Beatrice was born, beloved, and -buried--where he had himself attained the highest honours of the state, -and, in his own esteem, deserved the lasting gratitude of his -fellow-citizens, instead of experiencing their implacable hatred. -Haughty yet humbled, vindictive yet forgiving, it is manifest, even in -his darkest moods, that his heart yearned for reconciliation; that he -pined in home-sickness wherever he went, and would gladly have renounced -all his wrath, and submitted to any self-denial consistent with honour, -to be received back into his country. For, much as he loved the -latter,--nay, madly as he loved it in his paroxysms of exasperation,--he -wrapt himself up tighter in the mantle of his integrity as the storm -raged more vehemently; and, as the conflict went harder against him, -grasped his honour, like his sword, never to be surrendered but with -life: to preserve these, he submitted to lose all beside. - -Boccaccio says, that, at a certain time, some friend obtained from the -Florentine government leave for Dante to return, on condition that he -should remain a while in prison, then do penance at the principal church -during a festival solemnity, and afterwards be exempt from further -punishment for his offences against the state. As might be expected, he -spurned the ignominious terms. A letter, preserved in the Laurentian -library[14], seems to refer to this circumstance, which, till the modern -discovery of that document, required stronger testimony than the random -verbiage of Boccaccio to confirm its credibility. It is addressed to a -correspondent at Florence, whom the writer styles "father." The -following are extracts; the original is in Latin. Having alluded to some -overtures for pardon and return, nearly corresponding with those above -mentioned, he proceeds:-- - - -"Can such a recall to his country, after fifteen years' exile, be -glorious to Dante Alighieri? Has innocence, which is manifest to every -one,--have toil and fatigue in perpetuated studies, merited this? Away -from the man trained up in philosophy, the dastard humiliation of an -earth-born heart, that, like some petty pretender to knowledge, or other -base wretch, he should endure to be delivered up in chains! Away from -the man who demands justice, the thought that, after having suffered -wrong, he should make terms by his money with those who have injured -him, as though they had done righteously!--No, father! this is not the -way of return to my country for me. Yet, if you, or any body else, can -find another which shall not compromise the fame and the honour of -Dante, I will not be slow to take it. But if by such an one he may not -return to Florence,--to Florence he will never return. What then? May I -not every where behold the sun and the stars? Can I not every where -under heaven meditate on the most noble and delightful truths, without -first rendering myself inglorious, aye infamous, before the people and -city of Florence,--and this, for fear I should want bread!" - - -Far different return to Florence, and far other scene in his favourite -church there, had he sometimes ventured to anticipate as possible. This -we learn from the opening of the twenty-fifth canto of the "Paradiso," -where, even in the presence of Beatrice and St. Peter, he thus unbosoms -the long-cherished hope; conscious of high desert, as well as grievous -injustice, which he would nevertheless most fervently forgive, could -restoration to his country be obtained on terms "consistent with the -fame and honour of Dante." - - -"If e'er the sacred song, which heaven arid earth -Have lent a hand to frame,--which, many a year, -Hath kept me lean with thought,--o'ercome the rage -That bars re-entrance to the lovely fold, -Where, like a lamb, I slept; the foe of wolves, -Waging inveterate war against its life; -With other voice, with other fleece, will I -Return, a poet, and receive the laurel -At that baptismal font, where I was brought -Into the faith which makes souls dear to God."[15] - - -In the same church here alluded to (San Giovanni), at Florence, there -remained till lately a stone-remembrancer of Dante, in his prosperous -days, scarcely less likely than "storied urn or animated bust," to -awaken that sweet and voluntary sadness by which we love to associate -dead things with the memory of those who once have lived. This was no -other than an ancient bench of masonry which ran along the wall, - - -"South of the church, east of the belfry-tower," - - -on which, according to long-believed tradition, the future poet of the -other world was wont to - - -"Sit conversing in the sultry time," - - -with those, - - -"Who little thought that in his hand he held -The balance, and assign'd, at his good pleasure, -To each his place in the invisible world." - -ROGER's _Italy._ - - -Here also, according to his own record, in rescuing a child which had -fallen into the water, he accidentally broke one of the baptismal -fonts,--a circumstance which seems to have been maliciously -misrepresented as an act of wilful sacrilege. His stern anxiety to clear -himself is characteristically indicated by the brief but dignified -attestation of the real fact, in the last line of the following singular -parallel between objects not otherwise likely to be brought into -comparison with each other. Describing the wells in which; -head-downward, simoniacal offenders (among the rest pope Nicholas III.) -were tormented with flames, that glanced from heel to toe along the -up-turned soles of their feet, he says,-- - - -"The sides and bottom of that livid rock -Were scoop'd into round holes, of equal size, -Which seem'd not less nor larger than the fonts -For baptism, in my beautiful St. John's; -And one of which, not many years ago, -I broke to save a drowning child from death: ---Be this my seal to undeceive the world."[16] - -_Dell' Inferno_, canto XIX. - - -Dante resided several years at Ravenna, with the noble-minded Guido da -Polenta, who, of his own accord, had invited him thither, and who, to -the last moment of his life, made him feel no other burden in his -service than gratitude for benefits bestowed with such a grace as though -the giver, and not the receiver, were laid under obligation. By him -being sent on an embassy to Venice, with the government of which Guido -had an unhappy dispute, Dante not only failed to accomplish a -reconciliation, but was even refused an audience, and compelled to -return by land for fear of the enemy's fleet, which had already -commenced hostilities along the coast. He arrived at Ravenna -broken-hearted with the disappointment, and died soon -afterwards,--according to his epitaph, on the 14th of September, 1321, -though some authorities date his demise in July preceding. - -The remains of the illustrious poet were buried with a splendour -honourable to his name and worthy of his patron, who himself pronounced -the funeral eulogium of his departed guest. His own countrymen, who had -hardened their hearts against justice and humanity, in resistance of his -return amongst them while living, soon after his death became sensible -of their folly, and too late repented it. Embassy on embassy, during the -two succeeding centuries, failed to recover the bones of their outcast -fellow-citizen from his hospitable entertainers; and Florence has less -to boast of in having given him birth, than Ravenna for having given him -burial. One of those fruitless negotiations was conducted under the -auspices of Leo X., and more illustriously sanctioned by Michael Angelo, -an enthusiastic admirer of Dante, who offered to adorn the shrine, had -the desired relics been obtained. The mighty sculptor,--himself the -Dante of marble, simple, severe, sublime in style, and preternatural -almost from the fulness of reality condensed in his ideal forms,--in -many of his works, both of the chisel and the pencil, introduced figures -suggested by images of the poet, or directly embodying such. Most -conspicuous among these were the statues of Leah and Rachel, from the -twenty-seventh canto of the "Purgatorio," on the monument of pope Julius -II. His own copy of the "Divina Commedia" was embellished down the -margin with sketches from the subjects of the text; and, had it been -preserved, would surely have been classed with the most precious of -those books for which collectors are eager to give ten times or more -their weight in gold. The fate of this volume was not less singular than -its good fortune; after having been made inestimable by the hand of -Michael Angelo, it was lost at sea, and thus added to the treasures of -darkness one of the richest spoils that ever went down from the light. - -It was the purpose of Guido da Polenta to erect a gorgeous sepulchre -over the ashes of the poet; but he neither reigned nor lived to -accomplish this, being soon afterwards driven from his dominions, and -dying himself a banished man at Bologna. More than a hundred and fifty -years later, Bernardo Bembo, father of the famous cardinal, completed -Polenta's design, though upon an inferior scale; and three centuries -more had elapsed, when cardinal Gonzaga raised a second and far more -sumptuous monument in the same place,--Ravenna; while in Florence, to -this day, there is none worthy of itself or the poet, who had been in -turn "its glory and its shame." The greatest honours conferred on his -memory by his native city were, the restoration to his family of his -confiscated property, after a lapse of forty years, the erection of a -bust crowned with laurel, at the public expense, a present from the -state of ten golden florins to his daughter by the hands of Boccaccio, -and the appointment of a public lecturer to expound the mysteries of the -"Divina Commedia." Boccaccio was the first professor who filled this -chair of poetry, philosophy, and theology. He commenced his -dissertations on a Sunday, in the church of St. Stephen, but died at the -end of two years, having proceeded no further than the seventeenth Canto -of the "Inferno." Similar institutions were adopted in Bologna, Pisa, -Venice, and other Italian towns; so that the renown of the man who had -lived by sufferance, died an outlaw, and been indebted to strangers for -a grave, exceeded, within two centuries, that of all his countrymen who -in polite literature had gone before him, and became the load-star of -all who, in any age, should follow. At Rome only the memory of the -Ghibelline bard was execrated, and his writings were proscribed. His -book "De Monarchia" was publicly burnt there, by order of pope John -XXII., who also sent a cardinal to the successor of Guido da Polenta, to -demand his bones, that they might be dealt with as those of an heretic, -and the ashes scattered on the wind. How impotent is the vengeance of -the great after the death of the object of their displeasure! What a -refuge, especially to fame, is the grave; a sanctuary which can never be -violated; for all human passions die on its threshold! - -Boccaccio, the earliest of his biographers, though not the most -authentic, says, that in person Dante was of middle stature; that he -stooped a little from the shoulders, and was remarkable for his firm and -graceful gait. He always dressed in a manner peculiarly becoming his -rank and years. His visage was long, with an aquiline nose, and eyes -rather full than small; his cheek-bones large, and his upper lip -projecting beyond the under; his complexion was dark; his hair and beard -black, thick and curled; and his countenance exhibited a confirmed -expression of melancholy and thoughtfulness. Hence one day, at Verona, -as he passed a gateway, where several ladies were seated, one of them -exclaimed, "There goes the man who can take a walk to hell, and back -again, whenever he pleases, and bring us news of every thing that is -doing there." On which another, with equal sagacity, added, "That must -be true; for don't you see how his beard is frizzled, and his face -browned, with the heat and the smoke below!" The words, whether spoken -in sport or silliness, were overheard by the poet, who, as the fair -slanderers meant no malice, was quite willing that they should please -themselves with their own fancies. Towards the opening of the -"Purgatorio" there is an allusion to the soil which his face had -contracted on his journey with Virgil through the nether world:-- - - -"High morn had triumph'd o'er the glimmering dawn -Which fled before her, so that I discern'd -The _tremble_ of the ocean from afar: -We walk'd along the solitary plain, -Like men retracing their erratic steps, -Who think all lost till they regain the path. -Arriving where the dew-drops with the sun -Contended, and lay thick beneath the shade, -Both hands my master delicately spread -Upon the grass:--aware of his intent, -I turn'd to him my tearful countenance, -And thence he wiped away the dusky hue, -With which the infernal air had sullied it."[17] - - -In his studies, Dante was so eager, earnest, and indefatigable, that his -wife and family often complained of his unsocial habits. Boccaccio -mentions, that once, when he was at Siena, having unexpectedly found at -a shop window a book which he had not seen, but had long coveted, he -placed himself on a bench before the door, at nine o'clock in the -morning, and never lifted up his eyes from the volume till vespers, when -he had run through the whole contents with such intense application, as -to have totally disregarded the festivities of processions and music -which had been passing through the streets the greater part of the day; -and when questioned about what had happened even in his presence, he -denied having had knowledge of any thing but what he was reading. As -might be expected from his other habits, he rarely spoke, except when -personally addressed, or strongly moved, and then his words were few, -well chosen, weighty, and expressed in tones of voice accommodated to -the subject. Yet when it was required, his eloquence brake forth with -spontaneous felicity, splendour, and exuberance of diction, imagery, and -thought. - -Dante delighted in music. The most natural and touching incident in his -"Purgatorio" is the interview between himself and his friend Casella; an -eminent singer in his day, who must, notwithstanding, have been -forgotten within his century, but for the extraordinary good fortune -which has befallen him, to be celebrated by two of the greatest poets of -their respective countries, (Dante and Milton) from whose pages his name -cannot soon perish. - -Choosing to excel in all the elegancies of life, as well as in -gentlemanly exercises and intellectual prowess, Dante attached himself -to painting not less than to music, and practised it with the pencil -(not, indeed, so triumphantly as with the pen, his picture-poetry being -unrivalled,) with sufficient facility and grace to make it a favourite -amusement in private; and none can believe that he could amuse himself -with what was worthless. His four celebrated contemporaries, Cimabue, -Odorigi, Franco Bolognese, and Giotto, are all honourably mentioned by -him in the eleventh canto of the "Purgatorio." - -There is an interesting allusion to the employment which he loved in the -"Vita Nuova:--On the day that completed the year after this lady -(Beatrice) had been received among the denizens of eternal life, while -I was sitting alone, and recalling her form to my remembrance, I drew an -angel on a certain tablet," &c. It may be incidentally observed, that -Dante's angels are often painted with unsurpassable beauty as well as -inexhaustible variety of delineation throughout his poem, especially in -canto IX. of the "Inferno," and cantos II. VIII. XII. XV. XVII. XXIV. of -the "Purgatorio." Take six lines of one of these portraits; though the -inimitable original must consume the unequal version. - - -"A noi venia la creatura bella, -Bianco vestita, e nella faccia, quale -Par, tremolando, mattutina stella: -Le braccia aperse, e indi aperse l'ale; -Disse; 'Venite; qui son presso i gradi, -E agevolmente ornai si sale.'" - -_Dell' Purgatorio_, canto XII. - - -"That being came, all beautiful, to meet us, -Clad in white raiment, and the morning star -Appear'd to tremble in his countenance; -His arms he spread, and then he spread his wings -And cried, 'Come on, the steps are near at hand. -And here the ascent is easy.'" - - -Leonardo Aretino, who had seen Dante's handwriting, mentions, with no -small commendation, that the letters were long; slender, and exceedingly -distinct,--the characteristics of what is called in ornamental writing -a fine Italian hand. The circumstance may seem small, but it is not -insignificant as a finishing stroke in the portraiture of one who, -though he was the first poet unquestionably, and not the last -philosopher, was also one of the most accomplished gentlemen of his age. - -Two of Dante's sons, Pietro and Jacopo, inherited a portion of their -father's spirit, and were among the first commentators on his works,--an -inestimable advantage to posterity, since the local and personal -histories were familiar to them; for had these not been explained by -contemporaries, many of the brief and more exquisite allusions must have -been irrecoverably lost, and some of the most affecting passages -remained as uninterpretable as though they had been carved on granite in -hieroglyphics. For example, in the fifth canto of the "Purgatorio," the -travellers meet three spirits together,--the first, Giacopo del Cassero -of Fano, who had been assassinated by order of a prince of Ferrara, for -having spoken ill of his highness;--the second, Buonconte, of -Montefeltro, who had fallen fighting on the side of the Aretines, in the -battle of Campaldino; and for whose soul a singular contention took -place between a good angel and an evil one, in which the former happily -prevailed;--the third shade was that of a female of rank, who, having -quietly waited till the two gentlemen had told their tales, thus -emphatically hinted hers:-- - - -"Ah! when thou hast return'd to yonder world, -And art reposing from thy long, long journey, -Remember me, for I am Pia:-- -* * * * * -Siena gave me birth, Maremma death, -And this _he_ knows, who, with his ring and jewel, -But newly had espoused me."[18] - - -This unfortunate lady was the bride of Nello della Pietra, a grandee of -Siena, who, becoming jealous of her, removed his predestined victim to -the putrid marshes of Maremma, where she soon drooped and died, without -suspicion on her part, or intimation on his, of the hideous purpose for -which she had been hurried thither; her gloomy keeper, with a dreadful -eye, watching her life go out like a lamp in a charnel-vault, and after -her death abandoning himself to despair.--One of Dante's sons above -mentioned (Pietro) was an eminent lawyer at Verona, and enjoyed the -friendship of Petrarch, who dedicated some lines to him, at Trevizi, in -1361. Jacopo is said to have been a writer of Italian verse. Of three -others, almost nothing is known, except that they died young. His -daughter Beatrice, so named after his _first_ love, took the veil in the -convent of St. Stefano del' Uliva, at Ravenna. - -Dante was the author of two Latin treatises,--the one already noticed, -"De Monarchia;" and another, "De Vulgari Eloquio," on the structure of -language in general, and that of Italy in particular. But for his -celebrity he is indebted solely to his productions in the latter tongue, -consisting of "La Vita Nuova," a reverie of fact and fable, in prose and -rhyme, referring to his youthful love;--"Canzoni[19] and Sonnets" of -which his lady was the eternal theme;--"Il Convito," a critical and -mystical commentary on three of his lyrics;--and the "Divina Commedia, -or Vision of Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise," by the glory of which its -forerunners have been at once eclipsed and kept in mid-day splendour, -instead of glimmering through that doubtful twilight of obscure fame -among the feeble productions of contemporaries, which must have been -their lot but for such fortunate alliance. - -The prose of the "Vita Nuova" and the "Convito" is deemed, at this day, -not only nervous and racy, but in a high degree pure and elegant -Italian; while much greater praise may be unhesitatingly bestowed upon -his verse. Whether employed upon the arbitrary structure of Canzoni, the -love-knot form of the sonnet, or the interminable chain of _terze rime_, -(the triple intertwisted rhyme of the "Divina Commedia," which Dante is -supposed to have invented,) his language is not more antiquated to his -countrymen than the English of Shakspeare is to ours. The limits of the -present essay preclude further notice of his lyrics than the general -remark, that they have all the stately, brief, sententious character of -his heroics, with occasional strokes of natural tenderness, and not -unfrequently exhibit a delicacy of thought so pure, graceful, and -unaffected, that Petrarch himself has seldom reached it in his more -ornate and laboured compositions. - -Dante did more than either his predecessors or contemporaries had done -to improve, ennoble, and refine his native idiom; indeed he was wont to -speak indignantly of those who would degrade it below the Provençal, the -fashionable vehicle of verse in that age of transition, when the young -languages of modern Europe, begotten between the stern tongues of the -north and the classic ones of the south, were growing up together, on -both sides of the Alps and the Pyrenees, like children in rivalry of -each other, as the nations that spoke them respectively, so often -intermingled in war or in peace. At the close of canto XXVI. of the -"Purgatorio," Arnauld Daniel is introduced as the master-minstrel of the -age gone by, singing some lines in a "Babylonish dialect," partly -Provençal and partly Catalonian; pitting infamous French against the -worst kind of Spanish (according to P. P. Venturi); and these certainly -present a striking contrast of barbarous dissonance with the full-toned -Tuscan of the context. - -Like our Spenser, Dante took many freedoms with the extant Italian, -which no later writer could have used. For the sake of euphony, -emphasis, or rhyme, he occasionally modified words and terminations to -serve a present purpose only, and which he himself rejected elsewhere. -In this he was justified: he ran through the whole compass of his native -vocabulary, he tried every note of the diapason, and all that were most -pure, harmonious, or energetic, he sanctioned, by employing them in his -song, which gave them a voice through after ages, so that few, -comparatively very few, have been entirely rejected by his most -fastidious successors. It was well for the poetry of his country that he -wrote his immortal work in its language; for neither Petrarch nor -Boccaccio could have gone so far as they did in perfecting it, if they -had not had so great a model, not to equal only but to excel. They, -indeed, affected to think little of their vernacular writings, and -pretended merely to amuse themselves with such compositions as every -body could read. Dante himself began his poem in Latin; and if he had -gone forward, the finishing stroke of the last line would have been a -_coup-de-grace_, which it could never have survived.[20] - -Of the origin of the "Divina Commedia" it would be in vain to speculate -here; the author himself, probably, could not have traced the first -idea. Such conceptions neither come by inspiration nor by chance:--who -can recollect the moment when he began to think, yet all his thoughts -have been consecutively allied to that? Many visions and allegories had -appeared before Dante's; and in several of these were gross -representations of the spiritual world, especially of purgatory, the -reality of which, during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, was urged -upon credulity with extraordinary zeal and perseverance by a corrupt -hierarchy. By all these rather than by one his mind might have been -prepared for the work. - -Seven cantos of the "Inferno" are understood to have been written before -the author's banishment; it is manifest, however, that if this were the -case they must have been considerably altered afterwards; indeed the -whole character of the poem, however the original outline may have been -followed, must have undergone a very remarkable, and (afflictive as the -occasion may have been for himself) a very auspicious change, from his -misfortunes. To the latter, his poem owes many of its most splendid -passages, and almost all its personal interest; an interest wherein -consists, if not its _principal_, its _prevailing_ and preserving charm. -Had the whole been composed in prosperity, amidst honours, and -affluence, and learned ease, in his native city, it would no doubt have -been a mighty achievement of genius; but much that enhances and endears -both its moral and its fable could never have been suggested, indeed -would not have existed, under happier circumstances. That moral, indeed, -is often as mistaken as that fable is monstrous; but the one and the -other should be judged according to the times. The poet's romantic and -unearthly love to Beatrice would have wanted that sombre and terrible -relief which is now given to it by the gloom of his own character, the -expression of his feelings under the sense of unmerited wrongs, -invectives thundered out against his persecutors, and exposures of -atrocities which were every-day deeds of every-day men, in those -distracted countries, of which his poem has left such fearful records. - -Much unsatisfactory discussion has arisen upon the title "Divina -Commedia," which Dante gave to his poem; it being presumed that he had -never seen a regular drama either in letter or exhibition, as the Greek -and Latin authors of that class were scarcely known in Italy till after -his time. The religious spectacles, however, common in the darkest of -the middle ages, consisting not of pantomime only, but of dialogue and -song, may have suggested to him the designation as well as the subject -of his strange adventure. Be this as it may, the character of the work -is dramatic throughout, consisting of a series of scenes, which conduct -to one catastrophe; for however miscellaneous or insulated they may seem -in respect to _each other_,--in respect to _the author_ (who is his own -hero, and for whose warning, instruction, and final recovery from an -evil course of life, the whole are collocated,) they all bear directly -upon _him_, and accomplish by just gradations the purpose for which they -were intended. Dante is a changed man when he emerges, from the infernal -regions in the centre of the globe, upon the shore of the island of -Purgatory at the Antipodes; and is further so refined by his ascent up -that perilous mount, that when he reaches the terrestrial paradise at -the top, he is prepared for translation from thence through the nine -spheres of the celestial universe. Many of the interviews between the -visiters of the invisible worlds which they explore, and the inhabitants -of these, are scenes which involve all the peculiarities of -stage-exhibitions,--dialogue, action, passion,--secrecy, surprise, -interruption. Examples may be named. The meeting and conversations with -Sordello, in the sixth and seventh cantos of the "Purgatorio," in which -there are two instances of unexpected discoveries which bring out the -whole beauty and grandeur of that mysterious personage's character; as a -patriot, when at the mere sound of the word "Mantua" he embraces Virgil -with transport, not yet knowing, nor even enquiring, any thing further -about him, except that he is his countryman; and afterwards as a poet, -when, Virgil disclosing his name, Sordello is overpowered with -delightful astonishment, like one who suddenly beholds something -wonderful before him, and, scarcely believing his own eyes for joy, -exclaims, in a breath, "It is! it is not!" (_Ell' è, non è._) The -parties are thus introduced to each other. Dante and Virgil are -considering which road they shall take, when the latter observes:-- - - -"Yonder I see a spirit, fix'd in thought, -Alone and gazing earnestly upon us, -He will point out the readier way to take. -Tow'rds him we went--Soul of a Longobardian! -How didst thou stand aloof with haughty bearing, -And lordly eyes, slow-moving as we moved! ---He utter'd not a word, but let us pass, -On-looking like a lion from his lair: -But Virgil, drawing near, entreated him -To show the easiest path for our ascent: -Still to that meek request he answer'd not, -But of our country and our way of life -Enquired;--my courteous guide began then, 'Mantua'; -Straight at the word, that spirit, erewhile so wrapt -Within himself, sprang from his place, and cried, -'O Mantuan! I'm thy countryman, Sordello;' -And one the other instantly embraced."[21] - - -The reserve of Sordello is generally attributed to stubbornness or -pride; but is it not manifest that, on the first sight of the strangers, -he had a misgiving hope (if the phrase be allowable) which he feared -might deceive him, that they were countrymen of his, wherefore, absorbed -in that sole idea, he disregards their question concerning the road, and -directly comes to the point which he was anxious to ascertain; and this -being resolved by the single word "Mantua," his soul flies forth at once -to embrace the speaker? - -In the tenth canto of the "Inferno," where heretics are described as -being tormented in tombs of fire, the lids of which are suspended over -them till the day of judgment, Dante finds Farinata d'Uberti, an -illustrious commander of the Ghibellines, who, at the battle of Monte -Aperto, in 1260, had so utterly defeated the Guelfs of Florence, that -the city lay at the mercy of its enemies, by whom counsel was taken to -raze it to the ground: but Farinata, because his bowels yearned towards -his native city, stood up alone to oppose the barbarous design; and -partly by menace--having drawn his sword in the midst of the -assembly--and partly by persuasion, preserved the city from destruction. -The interview is thus painted; but to prepare the reader for well -understanding the nature of the by-play which intervenes, it is -necessary to state that Cavalcante Cavalcanti, whose head appears out of -an adjacent sepulchre, was the father of Guido Cavalcanti, a poet, the -particular friend of Dante, and chief of the Bianchi party banished -during his priorship. - - -"'O Tuscan! Thou, who, through this realm of fire, -Alive dost walk, thus courteously conversing -Pause, if it please thee, here. Thy dialect -Proclaims thy lineage from that noble land, -Which I, perhaps, too much have wrong'd.' -"Such sounds -Suddenly issued forth from one of those -Sepulchral caverns.--Tremblingly I crept -A little nearer to my guide, but he -Cried, 'Turn again! What would'st thou do? Behold, -'Tis Farinata that hath raised himself: -There may'st thou see him, upward from the loins.' -Already had I fix'd mine eyes on his, -Who stood, with bust and visage so erect, -As though he look'd on hell itself with scorn. -My master then, with prompt and resolute hands, -Thrust me among the charnel-vaults towards him, -Saying,--'Thy words be plain.' When I had reach'd -His tombstone-foot, he look'd at me a while -As in disdain, then loftily demanded-- -'Who were thine ancestors?' -----"Eager to tell, -Nought I conceal'd, but utter'd all the truth. -Arching his brow a little, he return'd;-- -'Bitter antagonists of mine, of me, -And of my party, were thy sires; but twice -I scatter'd them.' -"'If scatter'd twice,' said I, -'Once and again they came from all sides back,-- -A lesson which _thy_ friends have not well learn'd.' -"Just then a second figure, at his side, -Emerged to view; unveil'd above the chin, -And kneeling, as methought.--It look'd around -So wistfully, as though it hoped to find -Some other with me; but, that hope dispell'd, -Weeping it spake:--'If through this dungeon-gloom, -Grandeur of genius guide thy venturous way, -My son!--where is he?--and why not with _thee?_' -Then I to him:--"Not of myself I came; -He who awaits me yonder brought me hither,-- -One whom perhaps thy Guido held in scorn.[22] -His speech and form of penance had already -Taught me his name; my words were therefore pointed. -Upstarting he exclaim'd:--"How?--said'st thou _held?_ -Lives he not then? and doth not heaven's sweet light -Fall on his eyes?'--When I w as slow to answer, -Backward he sunk, and re-appear'd no more. -"Meanw'hile that other most majestic form, -Near which I stood, neither changed countenance, -Nor turn'd his neck, nor lean'd to either side: -'And if,' quoth he, our first debate resuming, -'They have not well that lesson learn'd, the thought -Torments me more than this infernal bed: -And yet, not fifty times her changing face, -Who here reigns sovereign, shall be re-illumined, -Ere _thou_ shalt know how hard that lesson is.[23] ---But tell me,--so may'st thou return in peace -To the dear world above!--why are thy people -In all their acts so mad against my race?' ---'The slaughter and discomfiture,' said I, -'That turn'd the river red at Mont-Aperto, -Have caused such dire proscriptions in our temples.' -"He shook his head, deep-sighing, then rejoin'd,-- -'I was not _there_ alone; nor without cause -Engaged with others; but I _was_ alone, -And stood in her defence with open brow, -When all our council, with one voice, decreed -That Florence should be razed from her foundation.' -"'So may thy kindred find repose, as thou -Shalt loose a knot which hath entangled me!' -Thus I adjured him:--'ye foresee what time -(If rightly I have heard) will bring to pass, -But to the present, otherwise, are blind.' -"'We see, like him who hath an evil eye, -Far distant things,' said he; 'so highest God -Enlightens us: but yet, when they approach, -Or when they are, our intellect falls short; -Nor can we know, save by report from others, -Aught of the state of man beneath the sun. -Hence may'st thou comprehend how all our knowledge -Shall cease for ever from the point that shuts -The portal of the future.'[24] -"At that moment -Compunction smote me for my recent fault, -And I cried out--'Oh! tell that fallen one, -His son is yet among the living.--Say, -That if I falter'd to reply at first -With that assurance, 'twas because my thoughts -Were harass'd by the doubt which thou hast solved.'"[25] - - -The reader of these lines (however inferior the translation may be), -cannot have failed to perceive by what natural action and speech the -paternal anxiety of Cavalcante respecting his son is indicated. On his -bed of torture he hears a voice which he knows to be that of his son's -friend; he starts up, looks eagerly about, as expecting to see that son; -but observing the friend only, he at once interrupts the dialogue with -Farinata, and in broken exclamations enquires concerning him. Dante -happening to employ the past tense of a verb in reference to what his -"Guido" might have done, the miserable parent instantly lays hold of -that minute circumstance as an intimation of his death, and asks -questions of which he dreads the answers, precisely in the manner of -Macduff when he learns that his wife and children had been murdered by -Macbeth. The poet hesitating to reply. Cavalcante takes the worst for -granted, falls back in despair, and appears not again. Thus, - - -"Even from _his_ tomb the voice of Nature cries." - - -Dante, however, at the close of the scene, unexpectedly recurs to his -own fault with the tenderness of compunction and delicacy of respect due -to an unfortunate being, whom he had unintentionally agonised with his -silence, and sends a message to the old man that his son yet lives.[26] -Contrasted with this trembling sensibility of a father's affection, -stronger than death, and out-feeling the pains of hell, is the stern, -calm, patient dignity of Farinata, who, though wounded to the quick by -the retort of Dante at the moment when their discourse was broken upon, -stands unmoved in mind, in look, in posture, till the interlude is -ended; and then, without the slightest allusion to it, he takes up the -suspended argument at the last words of his opponent, as though his -thoughts had all the while been ruminating on the disgrace of his -friends, the afflictions of his family, and the inextinguishable enmity -of his countrymen against himself. His noble rejoinder, on Dante's -reference to the carnage at Monte Aperto as the cause of his people's -implacability, is above all praise. Indeed, it would be difficult to -point out, in ancient or modern tragedy, a passage of more sublimity or -pathos, in which so few words express so much, yet leave so much more to -be imagined by any one who has "a human heart," as the whole of this -scene in the original exhibits. - -Dante's poem is certainly neither the greatest nor the best in the -world; but it is, perhaps, the most extraordinary one which resolute -intellect ever planned, or persevering talents successfully executed. It -stands alone; and must be read and judged according to rules and -immunities adapted to its peculiar structure, plot, and purpose, formed -upon principles affording scope to the exercise of the highest powers, -with little regard to precedent. If these principles, then, have -intrinsic excellence, and the work be found uniformly consistent with -them, fulfilling to the utmost the aims of the author, the "Divina -Commedia" must be allowed to stand among the proudest trophies of -original genius, challenging, encountering, and overcoming unparalleled -difficulties. Though the fields of action, or rather of vision, are -nominally Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise,--the Paradise, Purgatory, and -Hell of Dante, with all their terrors, and splendours, and preternatural -fictions, are but representations of scenes transacted on earth, and -characters that lived antecedently or contemporaneously with himself. -Though altogether _out_ of the world, the whole is of the world. Men and -women seem fixed in eternal torments, passing through purifying flames, -or exalted to celestial beatitude; yet in all these situations they are -what they were; and It is their former history, more than their present -happiness, hope, or despair, which constitutes, through a hundred -cantos, the interest, awakened and kept up by the successive exhibition -of more than a thousand individual actors and sufferers. Of every one of -these something terrible or touching is intimated or told, briefly at -the utmost, but frequently by mere hints of narrative or gleams of -allusion, which excite curiosity in the breast of the reader; who is -surprised at the poet's forbearance, when, in the notes of commentators, -he finds complex, strange, and fearful circumstances, on which a modern -versifier or novelist would expend pages, treated here as ordinary -events, on which it would be impertinent to dwell. These, in the -author's own age, were generally understood; the bulk of the materials -being gathered up during a period of restlessness and confusion among -the republican states of Italy. - -Hence, though the first appearance of the "Divina Commedia," in any -intelligible edition, is repulsive from the multitude of notes, and the -text is not seldom difficult and dark with the oracular compression of -strong ideas in few and pregnant words, yet will the toil and patience -of any reader he well repaid, who perseveringly proceeds but a little -way, quietly referring, as occasion may require, from the obscurity of -the original to the illustrations below; for when he returns from the -latter to the former (as though his own eye had been refreshed with new -light, the darkness having been in it, and not in the verse), what was -colourless as a cloud is radiant with beauty, and what before was -undefined in form becomes exquisitely precise and symmetrical, from -comprehending in so small a compass so vast a variety of thought, -feeling, or fact. Dante, in this respect, must be studied as an author -in a dead language by a learner, or rather as one who employs a living -language on forgotten themes; then will his style grow easier and -clearer as the reader grows more and more acquainted with his subject, -his manner, and his materials. For whatever be the corruptions of the -text (which perhaps has never been sufficiently collated), the -remoteness of the allusions, and our countrymen's want of that previous -knowledge of almost every thing treated upon, which best prepares the -mind for the perception and highest enjoyment of poetical beauty and -poetical pleasure, Dante will be found, in reality, one of the most -clear, minute, and accurate writers in sentiment, as he is one of the -most perfectly natural and graphic painters to the life of persons, -characters, and actions. His draughts have the freedom of etchings, and -the sharpness of proof impressions. His poem is well worth all the pains -which the most indolent reader may take to master it. - -Ordinary poetry is often striking and captivating at first view, but all -its merit is at once elicited; and frequently that which charmed so much -at first becomes less and less affecting, less and less defined, the -more it is examined, till light turns to mist, and mist to shadow in the -end; whereas the highest order of poetry--that which is -_intellectual_--the longer it is dwelt upon, the lovelier, the nobler, -the more delightful it appears, and when fully understood remains -imperishable in its graces and effects; repetition a thousand times does -not impair it; its creations, like those of nature,--familiar, indeed, -as the sun and the stars,--are never less glorious and beautiful, though -daily before us. Dante's poetry (extravagant and imaginative as he often -may be) is thoroughly intellectual; there is no enthusiasm of feeling, -but there is much of philosophical and theological subtlety, and of -course much absurdity in some of his reveries; yet his passion is always -pure and unaffected, his descriptions are daylight realities, and his -heroes men of flesh and blood. Probably no other work of human genius so -far exceeds in its development the expectation of prejudiced or -unprepared readers, as the "Divina Commedia;" or performs, in fact, so -much more than it seems to promise. - -Dante has created a hell, purgatory, and paradise of his own; and, being -satisfied with the present world as a nursery for his personages, he has -peopled his ultramundane regions with these, assigning to all their -abodes "sulphureous or ambrosial," or refining those who were yet -corrigible after death, according to his own pleasure, his theological -views, and his moral feelings. It must be confessed that, whatever were -his passions, prejudices, or failings, his attachments or antipathies, -as an arbiter of fate he appears honestly to have distributed justice, -to the best of his knowledge, to all whom he has cited before his -tribunal, leaving in the case of every one (perhaps) a judgment -unimpeachable and unappealable; so forcibly does he impress the mind -with the truth and reality of the evidence of their merit or turpitude, -which he produces to warrant his sentences. As a man, he is, indeed, -fierce, splenetic, and indignant at times, especially in execrating his -countrymen for their profligacy and injustice towards himself; yet -(though there may have been primary motives less noble than the apparent -ones, at the bottom of his heart, unsuspected even by himself,) his -anger and his vengeance seem always directed against those who deserved -to be swept from the face of the earth, as venal, treacherous, -parricidal wretches. With the wonders which he beheld in his invisible -world, in his complicated travels through its triple round of -labyrinths;--as, in hell, wheel within wheel, diminishing downward to -the centre; in purgatory, circle above circle, terminating in the garden -of Eden; and, in his paradise, orb beyond orb, through the solar system -to the heaven of heavens, where he "presumed, an earthly guest, and drew -empyreal air;"--with these he has constructed a poem of a thousand -pages, exhibiting the greatest diversity of characters, scenes, -circumstances, and events, that were ever embraced in an equal compass; -while all are made perfectly to harmonise and conduce to one process, -carried on at every step of his pilgrimage, namely, the gradual -purification of the poet himself, by the examples which he sees and the -lessons which he hears; as well as by the toils he undergoes, the pains -he endures, and the bliss he partakes, in his long and dreary path down -into the nether regions, where there is no hope; up the steep hill, -where, though there is suffering, there is no fear of ultimate release; -and on his flight through the "nine-enfolded spheres," where all are as -happy as they can be in their present station, yet, as they pass from -stage to stage, rise in capacity and means of enjoyment to fulness of -felicity in the beatific vision. - -Dante was the very poet, and the "Divina Commedia" the very poem, to be -expected from the influence of all existing circumstances in church and -state at the time when he flourished. The poet and his age were -homogeneous, and his song was as truly in season as that of the -nightingale in spring; the winter of barbarism had broken up, the summer -heat of refinement had not yet come on: a century earlier there would -have been too much ignorance, a century later too much intelligence, to -form such a theme and such a minstrel; for though Dante, in any age, -must have been one of its greatest bards, yet the bard that he was he -could not have been in any other than that in which he lived. - -Dante, as hath already been intimated, is the hero of his own poem; and -the "Divina Commedia" is the only example of an attempt triumphantly -achieved, and placed beyond the reach of scorn or neglect, wherein, from -beginning to end, the author discourses concerning himself individually. -Had this been done in any other way than the consummately simple, -delicate, and unobtrusive one which he has adopted, the whole would have -been insufferable egotism, disgusting coxcombry, or oppressive -dulness,--whereas this personal identity is the charm, the strength, the -soul of the book: he lives, he breathes, he moves through it; his pulse -beats or stands still, his eye kindles or fades, his cheek grows pale -with horror, colours with shame, or burns with indignation; we hear his -voice, his step, in every page; we see his shape by the flames of hell, -his shadow in the land where there is no _other_ shadow ("Purgatorio"), -and his countenance gaining angelic elevation from "colloquy sublime" -with glorified intelligences in the paradise above. Nor does he ever go -out of his actual character;--he is, indeed, the lover from infancy of -Beatrice, the aristocratic magistrate of a fierce democracy, the valiant -soldier in the field of Campaldino, the fervent patriot in the feuds of -Guelfs and Ghibellines, the eloquent and subtle disputant in the schools -of theology; the melancholy exile, wandering from court to court, -depending for bread and shelter on petty princes who knew not his worth, -except as a splendid captive in their train; and, above all (though not -obtrusively so), he is the poet anticipating his own assured renown, and -dispensing at his will honour or infamy to others, whom he need but to -name, and the sound must be heard to the end of time, and echoed from -all regions of the globe. Dante, in his vision, is Dante as he lived, as -he died, and as he expected to live in both worlds beyond death,--an -immortal spirit in the one, an unforgotten poet in the other. Pride of -birth, consciousness of genius, religious feeling almost to fanaticism, -and the sense of wrongs, under which he is alternately inflamed with -rage, withered with disappointment, or saddened with despair,--these are -continually reminding the reader of the man as he was; stimulating his -jaded hope with the bitter sweet of revenge, which he could wreak at -will upon his enemies; and solacing a wounded spirit with the thought of -fame in possession, which his fellow-citizens could not confiscate, and -fame in _reversion_, of which contemporaries could not cut off the -entail. - -Yet while he is thus in every point an individual, he is at the same -time an exemplar of the whole species; and he may emphatically say to -the reader who can follow him in his journeys, receive his inspirations, -and share in his troubles, anxieties, joys, and disappointments:--"Am I -not a man and a brother?" Dante, though in this sense the hero of his -own poem, is any thing but a hero, either in the vulgar or the -chivalrous sense of the term. He is a human being, with all the faults, -frailties, and imperfections of our common nature, as they really -existed in himself, and as they more or less exist in every other -person; nor can a less sophisticated character be found in all the -volumes of prose and rhyme that have appeared since this -auto-biographical poem. He assumes nothing; he conceals nothing; his -fears, his ignorance, his loves, and his enmities, are all undisguisedly -set forth, as though he were all the while communing with his own heart, -without the cowardly apprehension of blame, or the secret desire of -applause from a fellow-creature. He is always, indeed, noble, manly, and -candid, but travelling continually in company of some superior -intelligence,--Virgil in hell and purgatory, and Beatrice in purgatory -and heaven,--he always defers to the one or the other in difficulty, -doubt, or danger, and clings for protection, as well as looks up for -instruction, with childlike simplicity and docility; returning with the -most reverent and affectionate gratitude every token of kindness -received from either. - -Marvellous and incredible, it must be confessed, are many of the stories -which he tells; but he tells them with the plainness and -straight-forwardness of a man who is speaking the truth, and nothing -else, of his own knowledge. - -In the last cantos of the "Purgatorio," and throughout the "Paradiso," -there is a prodigious putting forth of power to describe ineffable and -eternal things; with inexhaustible prodigality of illustration, and -transmutation of the same symbols, to constitute different gradations of -blessedness and glory. Of these, however, there are scarcely any types -except light, colour, sound, and motion, variously combined to represent -spiritual beings, their forms, their occupations, and manner of -discoursing; but even amongst such inexpressible, nay, unimaginable -scenes and passages, the human nature which cleaves to the poet, and -shows itself, under every transmigration, allied to flesh and blood, -gives an interest which allegorical pictures of invisible realities can -never keep up beyond the first brilliant impression. Yet the vitality -and strength of the poem reside chiefly in the first and second parts; -diminishing just in proportion as the author rises above the regions -which exhibit the sins and sufferings of creatures like ourselves, -punished with everlasting destruction in hell, or "burnt and purged -away," through the penal inflictions of purgatory. It may, however, be -said, with regard to the whole, that no ideal beings, ideal scenes, or -ideal occurrences, in any poem or romance, have ever more perfectly -_personified_ truth and nature than those in this composition, which, -though the theatre is figuratively beyond the limits of human action, is -nevertheless full of such action in its most common as well as its most -extraordinary forms. - -There is scarcely a decorous attitude of the human frame, a look -expressive of the most concealed sentiment, or a feeling of pain, -pleasure, surprise, doubt, fear, agony, hope, delight, which is not -described with a minuteness of discrimination alike curious and -admirable; the poet himself frequently being the subject of the same, -and exciting our sympathy by the lively or poignant remembrance of -having ourselves done, looked, felt like him, when we were far from -being ingenuous enough to acknowledge the weakness implied. There is -scarcely a phenomenon in the visible heavens, the earth, the sea, and -the phases of nature, which he has not presented in the most striking -manner. In such instances he frequently descends to the nicest -particulars, that he may realise the exact view of them which he wishes -to be taken; they being necessarily illustrations of invisible and -preternatural subjects. This leads to the remark, that the poem abounds -with similes of the greatest variety, beauty, and elegance; often, -likewise, of the most familiar, touching, or grotesque character. Among -these, birds are favourite images, especially the stork and the -falcon,--the two last that an English poet of the nineteenth century -would think of, but which happily remind us, as often as they are seen -here, of the country of the author, while they present pictures of times -gone by,--the stork having long ago deserted our shores, and falconry, -poetical and captivating as it is to the eye and the fancy, having been -abandoned in the fashionable rage for preserves, where game are bred -like poultry, and massacred by wholesale on field-days. Next to birds, -children are the darlings, in the similes, of this stern, and harsh, -and gloomy being, as he is often, though unjustly, represented to have -been. Amidst his most dazzling, terrific, or monstrous creations, these -little ones, in all their loveliness and hilarity, are introduced, to -re-invigorate the tired thoughts, and cool the over-heated imagination -with reminiscence of that which, in this world, may be looked upon with -the least pain, and which cannot be looked upon with pleasure without -our being the better for it; the love of children, and the delight of -seeing them happy, being a test of every other species of kindness -towards our fellow-creatures. - -It is unnecessary to pursue general criticism further. Any analysis of -the plot would be preposterous here; for nothing less than a progressive -abstract of the whole, with examples from every stage, would be -satisfactory, or indeed intelligible, to those who are not acquainted -with the original, or the translation into English by the Reverend H. F. -Cary, which may be said to fail in nothing except the versification--and -that, perhaps, only in consequence of the writer's attention to what -constitutes the chief merit of his performance, fidelity to the meaning -of the text. - -It was the purpose of the writer of the foregoing memoir to have -concluded his strictures on the "Divina Commedia" with a series of -newly-translated specimens from the same (like the foregoing ones), in -the various kinds of style for which the author was distinguished, in -order to give the English reader some faint idea of this poet's very -peculiar manner of handling his subject, and the general cast of his -mind and mode of thinking: but the limits of the present work precluding -any further extension of this article, these are reserved, and may be -laid before the public at some future opportunity. - - -[Footnote 1: The heaven of heavens.] - -[Footnote 2: The sun in the sign of the Twins.] - -[Footnote 3: "S' io torni mai, Lettore, a quel devoto -Trionfo, per lo quale io piango spesso -Le mie peccata, e 'l petto mi percuoto, -Tu non avresti in tanto tratto e messo -Nel fuoco il dito, in quanto io vidi 'l segno. -Che segue 'l tauro, e fui dentro da esso. -O gloriose stelle! O lume pregno -Di gran virtù, 'dal quale io riconosco -Tutto (qual che si sia) il mio ingegno; -Con voi nasceva, e s'ascendeva vosco -Quegli, ch' è padre d'ogni mortal vita, -Quand' io senti' da prima l'aer Tosco. -E poi quando mi fu grazia largita -D'entrar nell' alta ruota che vi gira, -La vostra región mi fu sortita. -A voi divotamente ora sospira -L' ánima mia, per aquistar virtute -Al passo forte che a se la tira."] - -[Footnote 4: In religious processions on saint-days.] - -[Footnote 5: This passage is remarkable for having been imitated by -Spenser in his personification of Forgetfulness: he, however, makes the -feet and face at variance, which Dante does not, reversing the aspect of -the one and the motion of the other:-- - - -"But very uncouth sight was to behold -How he did fashion his untoward pace; -For as he forward moved his footing old, -To backward still was turn'd his wrinkled face, -Unlike to men, who, ever as they trace -Both feet and face one way are wont to lead." - -_Færie Queene_, book I. canto VIII. st. 31. - -The latter clause of Dante's lines has been remembered by Milton;-- - -"Sight so deform, what heart of man could long -Dry-eyed behold?--Adam could not, but wept." - -_Paradise Lost_, book XI. ver. 495. - -"E vidi gente per lo vallon tondo -Venir, tacendo e lagrimando, al passo -Che fanno le letane in questo mondo. -Come 'l viso mi scese in lor più basso, -Mirabilmente apparve esser travolto -Ciascim dal mento al principio del casso: -Che dalle reni era tornato il volto, -Ed indietro venir li convenia. -Perchè 'l veder dinanzi era lor tolto. -Forse per forza gia di parlasia -Si travolse cosi alcún del tutto: -Ma io noi vidi, ne credo che sia. -Se Dio ti lasci, lettor, prender frutto -Di tua lezione, or pensa per te stesso -Com' io potea tener lo viso asciutto, -Quando la nostra imagine da presso -Vidi si torta, che 'l pianto degli occhi -Le natiche bagnava per lo fesso."] - -[Footnote 6: According to his own intimation in the _Purgatorio_, canto -XXXII. ver. 2., where he speaks of his "eyes" being eager to relieve -themselves of their "_ten_ years' thirst," on her spiritual appearance -to him;--the date of the visions being A. D. 1300, and the descent into -the lower regions represented as having been made on Good Friday, 1266 -years after the death of Christ. - ---_Inferno_, canto XXI.] - -[Footnote 7: "Di varii fiori ad un gran monte passa, -Ch' ebber già buono odore, or puzzan forte, -Questo era il dono (se però dir lece,) -Che Constantino al buon Silvestro fece." - -_Orlando Furioso_, canto XXXIV. - -Thus translated by Milton:-- - -"Then pass'd he to a flowery mountain green, -Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously -This was that gift (if you the truth will have) -That Constantine to good Silvester gave." - -Dante alludes, with bitterness, to the same unhappy gift, in three -lines, which Milton has also translated with more faithfulness than -felicity:-- - -"Ahi! Constantin, di quanto mal fu matre, -Non la tua conversion, ma quella dote, -Che da te prese il primo ricco patre." - ---_Dell' Inferno_, canto XIX. - -"Ah Constantine! of how much ill was cause -Not thy conversion, but those rich domains, -Which the first wealthy pope receiv'd of thee."] - -[Footnote 8: "I' vidi già cavalier muover campo, -E comminciare stormo, e far lor mostra, -E tal volta partir per loro scampo: -Corridor vidi per la terra vostra, -O Aretini! e vidi gir gualdane, -Ferir torneamenti, e correr giostra, -Quando con trombe, e quando con campane, -Con tamburi, e con cenni di castella, -E con cose nostrali, e con istrane: -Ne già con si diversa cennamella, -Cavalier vidi muover, ne pedoni, -Ne nave a segno di terra, o di stella. -Noi andavam con li dieci demoni; -Ah! fiera compagnia!--ma nella chiesa -Co' Santi, e in taverna co' ghiottoni."] - -[Footnote 9: "Perch' i' mi mossi, e a lui venni ratto: -E i diavoli si fecer tutti avanti, -Si ch' io temetti non tenesser patto. -E cosi vid' io già temer li fanti, -Ch' uscivan pattegiati di Caprona, -Veggendo se tra nemici cotanti. -I' m'accostai con tutta la persona -Lungo 'l mio duca, e non torceva gli occhi -Dalla sembianza lor, ch'era non buona."] - -[Footnote 10: "Tu lascerai ogni cosa diletta -Più caramente; e questo è quello strale, -Che l'arco dell' esilio pria saetta. -Tu proverai sì come sa di sale -Lo pane altrui, e com'è duro calle -Lo scendere, e 'l salir per l'altrui scale. -E quel, che più ti graverà le spalle, -Sarà la campagnia malvagia e scempia, -Con la qual tu cadrai in questa valle: -Che tutta ingrata, tutta matta ed empia -Si farà contra te: ma poco appresso -Ella, non tu, n'avrà rossa la tempia. -Di sua bestialitate il suo processo -Farà la pruova, sì ch' a te fia bello -Averti fatta parte per te stesso."] - -[Footnote 11: "Quando vivea più glorioso, disse, -Liberamente nel campo di Siena, -Ogni vergogna deposta, s'affisse: -Egli, per trar l'amico suo di pena, -Che sostenea nella prigion di Carlo, -Si condusse a tremar per ogni vena. -Più non dirò, e scuro so che parlo; -Ma poco tempo andià, che i tuoi vicini -Faranno sì che tu potrai chiosarlo."] - -[Footnote 12: See Goldsmith's Traveller, towards the end.] - -[Footnote 13: A silly practical joke, which has probably been often -repeated in such parties, as it much resembles one told by Josephus -respecting the young Hyrcanus. In fact, there is scarcely "a good thing" -of this base class, which, on investigation, does not become apocryphal -from too much evidence.] - -[Footnote 14: See the Edinburgh Review, vol. XXX. p. 319.] - -[Footnote 15: "Se mai continga che 'l poema sacro, -Al quale ha posto mano e cielo e terra, -Sì che m' ha fatto per più anni macro, -Vinca la crudeltà, che fuor mi serra -Del bello ovile, ov' io dormì' agnello -Nimico a' lupi, che gli danno guerra; -Con altra voce omai, con altro vello -Ritornerò poeta, ed in sul fonte -Del mio battemmo prenderò 'l capello; -Perocchè nella fede, che fa conte -L'anime a Dio."] - -[Footnote 16: "I' vidi per le coste, e per lo fondo, -Piena la pietra livida di fori -D'un largo tutti, e ciascuno era tondo. -Non mi parèn meno ampi, ne maggiori. -Che quei, che son nel mio bel San Giovanni, -Fatti per luogo de' battezzatori; -L'un degli quali, ancor non è molt' anni, -Rupp' io per un, che dentro v'annegava; -E questo sia suggel, ch' ogni uomo sganni."] - -[Footnote 17: "L'alba vinceva l'ora mattutina, -Che fuggia 'npanzi, sì che di lontang -Conobbi il tremolar della marina: -Noi andavam per lo solingo piano, -Com'uom, che torna alla smaritta strada, -Che 'nfino ad essa li pare ire in vano. -Quando noi fummo, dove la rugiada -Pugna col sole, e per essere in parte -Ove adorezza, poco si dirada, -Ambo le mani in su l'erbetta sparte -Soavemente 'l mio maestro pose; -Ond'io che fui accorto di su' arte, -Porsi ver lui le guance lagrimose; -Quivi mi fece tutto discoverto -Quel color, che l'inferno mi nascose."] - -[Footnote 18: "Deh, quando tu sarai tornato al mondo, -E riposato della lunga via, -* * * * -Ricorditi di me, che son la Pia: -Siena mi fé; disfecemi Maremma; -Salsi colui, che 'nnanellata pria, -Disposando m'avea con la sua gemma."] - -[Footnote 19: Canzoni are the larger odes of the Italians, composed -according to certain strict but exquisite rules; which, when rightly -observed, give admirable harmony and proportion to what may be called' -the architecture of the thoughts: the stanzas resembling columns of the -most perfect symmetry, which may be infinitely diversified, and of -considerable length, each new form constituting what may be termed a -different order.] - -[Footnote 20: Lord Byron, in his poem, "The Prophecy of Dante," (canto -II.) has the following noble apostrophe, which, as it refers to the -subject of the foregoing paragraph, and affords a fine English specimen -of the _terze rime_, in which the _Divina Commedia_ is composed, cannot -be more opportunely introduced than in this place:-- - -"Italia! ah! to me such things, foreshown -With dim sepulchral light, bid me forget -In thine irreparable wrongs my own: -We can have but one country.--and even yet -Thou'rt mine--my bones shall be within thy breast, -_My soul within thy language_, which once set -With our old Roman sway in the wide West; -_But I will make another tongue arise_ -_As lofty and more sweet,_ in which exprest -The hero's ardour, or the lover's sighs, -Shall find alike such sounds for every theme, -That every word, as brilliant as thy skies, -Shall realise a poet's proudest dream, -And make thee Europe's nightingale of song; -So that all present speech to thine shall seem -The note of meaner birds, and every tongue -Confess its barbarism when compared with thine. -This shalt thou owe to him thou didst so wrong. -The Tuscan Bard, the banish'd Ghibelline."] - -[Footnote 21: "Ma vedi là un'anima, ch'a posta, -Sola soletta verso noi riguarda; -Quella ne 'nsegnerà la via più tosta -Venimmo a lei:--O anima Lombarda! -Come ti stavi altera e disdegnosa, -E nel mover degli occhi onesta e tarda! -Ella non ci diceva alcuna cosa; -Ma lasciavane gir, solo guardando -A guisa di leon, quando si posa. -Pur Virgilio si trasse a lei, pregando, -Che ne mostrasse la miglior salita; -E quella non rispose al suo dimando, -Ma di nostro paese, e della vita -Cinchiese; e 'l dolce duca incominciava, -'Mantova'--e l'ombra tutta in se romita, -Surse ver lui del luogo, ove 'pria stava, -Dicendo, 'O Mantovano! io son Sordello -Della tua terra; e l'un l'altro abbracciava."] - -[Footnote 22: Alluding, it is supposed, to the fact that Guido had -forsaken poetry for philosophy, or preferred the latter so much above -the former, as to think lightly of Virgil himself in comparison with -Aristotle.] - -[Footnote 23: He foretells Dante's own expulsion from his country within -fifty months.] - -[Footnote 24: The end of time, when their tombs were to be closed up.] - -[Footnote 25: "'O Tosco! che per la città del foco -Vivo ten' vai così parlando onesto -Piacciati di restare in questo loco: -La tua loquela ti fa manifesto -Di quella nobil patria natio, -Alla qual forse fui troppo molesto.' -Subitamente questo suono uscìo -D'una dell' arche: pero m'accostai, -Temendo, un poco più al duco mio. -Ed ei mi disse: 'Volgiti, che fai? -Vedi là Farinata, che s' è dritto. -Dalla cintola 'n su tutto 'l vedrai.' -Jo avea già 'l mio viso nel suo fitto; -Ed ei s' ergea col petto, e con la fronte, -Come avesse lo 'nferno in gran dispitto; -E l' animose man del duca, e pronte, -Mi pinser tra le sepolture a lui; -Dicendo: 'Le parole tue sien conte.' -Tosto ch' al piè della sua tomba fui, -Guardommi un poco, e poi, quasi disdegnoso, -Mi dimandò:--'Chi fur li maggior fui?' -Jo, ch' era d' ubbidir desideroso, -Non gliel celai, ma tutto gliele apersi: -Ond' ei levò le ciglia un poco in soso: -Poi disse:--'Fieramente furo avversi -A me, e à miei primi, e à mia parte, -Sì che per due fiate gli dispersi.' -S' ei fur cacciati, e' tornar d' ogni parte,' -Risposi lui, l' una e l' altra fiata, -Ma i vostri non appresser ben quell' arte.' -Allor surse alla vista scoperchiata -Un' ombra lungo questo infino al mento; -Credo, che s' era inginocchion levata. -D' intorno mi guardò, come talento -Avesse di veder, s' altri era meco; -Ma, poi che 'l sospicciar fu tutto spento, -Piangendo disse;--'Se per questo cieco -Carcere vai per altezza d' ingegno, -Mio figlio ov' è, e perchè non è teco?' -Ed io a lui: 'Da me stesso' non vegno; -Colui, ch' attende là, per qui mi mena, -Forse cui Guido vostro ebbe a disdegno.' -Le sue parole, e' l modo della pena -M' avevan di costui già letto il nome; -Però fu la risposta così piena. -Di subito drizzato gridò;--'Come -Dicesti, egli ebbe? non viv' egli ancora? -Non fiere gli occhi suoi lo dolce lome?' -Quando s' accorse d' alcuna dimora, -Ch ' io faceva dinanzi alla risposta, -Supin ricadde, e più non parve fuora. -Ma quell' altro magnanimo, a cui posta -Restato m'era, non mutò aspetto, -Ne’ mosse collo, ne’ piegò sua costa: -'E se,' continuando al primo detto, -'Egli ban quell' arte, disse, male appresa -Ciò mi tormenta più che questo letto. -Ma non cinquanta volte fia raccesa -La faccia della donna, che qui regge, -Che tu saprai quanto quell' arte pesa. -E se tu mai nel dolce mondo regge, -Dimmi, perchè quel popol è si empio -Incontr' a' miei in ciascun sua legge?' -Ond' io a lui; 'Lo strazio e 'l grande scempio, -Che fece 'l Arbia colorata in rosso, -Tale orazion fa far nel nostro tempio.' -Poi ch' ebbe sospirando il capo scosso, -'A ciò non fu' io sol, disse, nè certo -Senza cagion sarei con gli altri mosso; -Ma fu' io sol colà, dove sofferto -Fu per ciascun di torre via Fiorenza, -Colui, che la difesi a viso aperto.' -'Deh! se riposi mai vostra semenza!' -Prega' io lui, solvetemi quel nodo -Che qui ha inviluppata mia sentenza; -E’ par, che voi vegliate, se ben odo, -Dinanzi quel, che 'l tempo seco adduce, -E nel presente tenete altro modo.' -Noi veggiam, come quei, ch' ha mala luce, -Le cose,' disse, 'che ne son lontano; -Cotaato ancor ne splende 'l sommo duce: -Quando 's appressano, o son, tutto è vano -Nostro 'ntelletto, e s' altri non ci apporta, -Nulla sapem di vostro stato umano. -Però comprender puoi, che tutta morta -Fia nostra conoscenza da quel punto, -Che del futuro fia chiusa la porta.' -Allor, come di mia colpa compunto, -Dissi; 'Or direte dunque a quel caduto, -Che 'l suo nato è coi vivi ancor congiunto; -E s' io io' dinanzi alla risposta muto, -Fat' ei saper, che 'l fei, perchè pensava -Già nell' error, che m' avete soluto."] - -[Footnote 26: There are few instances (notwithstanding his tremendous -denunciations against bodies of men, the inhabitants of whole cities or -states) in which Dante forgets courtesy towards individual sufferers; -and, in general, he expresses the most honourable sympathy towards his -very enemies, when he finds them such. In the case of Bocca degli Abati, -who, at the battle of Monte Aperto, traitorously smote off the right -hand of the Florentine standard-bearer, the patriotic poet shows no -mercy; but having accidentally kicked him in the face as he stood wedged -up to the chin in ice, he afterwards tears the locks from the wretch's -head to make him tell his name;--forgetting, by the way, that in every -other case the spirits were intangible by him, though they appeared to -be bodily tormented.--Dell' Inferno, XXXII. And towards the friar -Alberigo de' Manfredi, who, having quarrelled with some of his brethren, -under pretence of desiring to be reconciled, invited them and others to -a feast, towards the conclusion of which, at the signal of the fruit -being brought in, a band of hired assassins rushed upon the guests and -murdered the selected victims on the spot; whence arose a saying, when a -person had been stabbed, that he had been served with some of Alberigo's -fruit:--towards this wretch Dante (by an ambiguous oath and promise to -relieve him from a crust of tears which had been frozen like a mask over -his face), having obtained his name, behaves with deliberate inhumanity, -leaving him as he found him, with this cool excuse,-- - -"E cortesia fu lui esser villano." - -"'Twas courtesy to play the knave to him." - -_Dell' Inferno_, canto XXXIII.] - - - - -PETRARCH - - -Francesco Petrarca was of Florentine extraction, and sprung from a -respectable family. His progenitors had been notaries. His great -grandfather has been distinguished for his integrity, benevolence, and -long life: his youth had been active, his old age was serene; he died in -his sleep when more than 100 years old, an age scarcely ever heard of in -Italy. His father exercised the same profession as those who had gone -before him; and, being held in great esteem by his fellow citizens, he -had filled several public offices. When the Ghibellines were banished -Florence in 1302, Petraccolo was included in the number of exiles; his -property was confiscated, and he retired with his wife, Eletta -Canigiani, whom he had lately married, to the town of Arezzo in Tuscany. -Two years after, the Ghibelline exiles endeavoured to reinstate -themselves in their native city by force of arms, but they failed in -their enterprise, and were forced to retreat. The attempt took place on -the night of the 20th of July, 1304; and, on returning discomfited on -the morrow, Petraccolo found that during the intervening hours his wife -had, after a period of great difficulty and danger, given birth to a -son. The child was baptized Francesco, and the surname of di Petracco -was added, as was the custom in those days, to distinguish him as the -son of Petracco. Orthography, at that time, was very inexact; and the -poet's ear for harmony caused him to give a more euphonious sound to his -patronymic: he wrote his name Petrarca, and by this he was known during -his life, and to all posterity. - -When the child was seven months old his mother 1305. was permitted to -return from banishment, and she established herself at a country house -belonging to her husband near Ancisa, a small town fifteen miles from -Florence. The infant, who, at his birth, it was supposed, would not -survive, was exposed to imminent peril during this journey. In fording a -rapid stream, the man who had charge of him, carried him, wrapped in his -swaddling clothes, at the end of a stick; he fell from his horse, and -the babe slipped from the fastenings into the water; but he was saved, -for how could Petrarch die until he had seen Laura? His mother remained -for seven years at Ancisa. Petraccolo meanwhile wandered from place to -place, seeking to earn a subsistence, and endeavouring to forward the -Ghibeline cause. He visited his wife by stealth on various occasions, -and she gave birth during this period to two sons; one of whom died in -infancy, and the other, Gherardo, or Gerard, was the companion and -friend of Francesco for many years. - -[Sidenote: 1312. -Ætat. -8.] - -When Petrarch was eight years of age, his parents removed to Pisa, and -remained there for nearly a year; when, finding his party entirely -ruined, Petraccolo resolved to emigrate to Avignon; for, the pope having -fixed his residence in that city, it became a resort for the Italians, -who found it advantageous to follow his court. -[Sidenote: 1313. -Ætat. -9.] -Petraccolo embarked with his wife and two children at Leghorn, and -proceeded by sea to Marseilles. They were wrecked and exposed to great -danger when not far from port; but landing at last in safety, they -proceeded to Avignon. The eyes of the young Petrarch had become familiar -with the stately cities of his native country: for the last year he had -lived at Pisa, where the marble palaces of the Lung' Arno, and the free -open squares surrounded by majestic structures, were continually before -him. The squalid aspect of the ill-built streets of Avignon were in -painful contrast; and thus that veneration for Italy, and contempt for -transalpine countries, which exercised a great influence over his future -life, was early implanted in Petrarch's heart. - -The papal court, and consequent concourse of strangers, filled Avignon -to overflowing, and rendered it an expensive place of residence. -[Sidenote: 1315. -Ætat. -55.] -Accordingly Petraccolo quitted it for Carpentras, a small rural town -twelve miles distant. A Genoese named Settimo, lately arrived at Avignon -with his wife and young son, had formed an intimacy with Petraccolo, and -joined him in this fresh migration. - -The youth of Petrarch was obscure in point of fortune, but it was -attended by all the happiness that springs from family concord, and the -excellent character of his parents. His father was a man of probity and -talent, attentive to his son's education and improvement, and, at the -same time, kind and indulgent. His mother was distinguished for the -virtues that most adorn her sex; she was domestic, and affectionate in -her disposition; and he had two youthful friends, in his brother Gerard -and Guido Settimo, whom he tenderly loved. Add to this, he studied under -Convennole, a kind-hearted man, to whom he became warmly attached. Under -his care, and during several visits to Avignon, Petrarch learned as much -of grammar, dialectics, and rhetoric, as suited his age, or was taught -in the schools which he frequented; and how little that was, any one -conversant with the learning of those times can readily divine.[27] - -[Sidenote: 1319. -Ætat. -15.] - -At the age of fifteen Petrarch was sent to study at the university of -Montpellier, then frequented by a vast concourse of students. Petraccolo -intended his son to pursue the study of the law, as the profession best -suited to insure his reputation and fortune; but to this pursuit -Francesco was invincibly repugnant. "It was not," he tells us, in the -account he wrote for the information of Posterity, "that I was not -pleased with the venerable authority of the laws, full, as they -doubtless are, of the spirit of ancient Rome, but because their use was -depraved by the wickedness of man; and it was tedious to learn that by -which I could not profit without dishonour." Petraccolo was alarmed by -the dislike shown by his son for the career for which he destined him, -and by the taste he displayed for literature. He made a journey to -Montpellier, reproached him for his idleness, and seizing on the -precious manuscripts, which the youth vainly endeavoured to hide, threw -them into the fire: but the anguish and cries of Petrarch moved him to -repent his severity: he snatched the remnants of Virgil and Cicero from -the flames, and gave them back, bidding him find consolation in the one, -and encouragement in the other, to pursue his studies. - -[Sidenote: 1323. -Ætat. -19.] - -He was soon after sent to Bologna. The chairs of this university were -filled by the ablest professors of the age; and, under them, Petrarch -made considerable progress in the study of the law, moved to this -exertion, doubtless, by the entreaties of his excellent father. He -proved that indolence was not the cause of his aversion to this -profession. His master of civil law, Cino da Pistoia, gives most -honourable testimony of his industry and talents. "I quickly discovered -and appreciated your genius," he says, in a letter written some time -after, "and treated you rather like a beloved son than as a pupil. You -returned my affection, and repaid me by observance and respect, and thus -gained a reputation among the professors and students for morality and -prudence. Your progress in study will never be forgotten in the -university. In the space of four years you learned by heart the entire -body of civil law, with as much facility as another would have acquired -the romance of Launcelot and Ginevra." - -[Sidenote: 1326. -Ætat. -22.] - -After three years spent at Bologna, Petrarch was recalled to France by -the death of his father. Soon after his mother died also, and he and his -brother were left entirely to their own guidance, with very slender -means, and those diminished by the dishonesty of those whom their father -had named as trustees to their fortune. Under these circumstances -Petrarch entirely abandoned law, as it occurred to both him and his -brother that the clerical profession was their best resource in a city -where the priesthood reigned supreme. They resided at Avignon, and -became the favourites and companions of the ecclesiastical and lay -nobles who formed the papal court, to a degree which, in after-times, -excited Petrarch's wonder, though the self-sufficiency and ardour of -youth then blinded him to the peculiar favour with which he was -regarded. His talents and accomplishments were, of course, the cause of -this distinction; besides that his personal advantages were such as to -prepossess every one in his favour. He was so handsome as frequently to -attract observation as he passed along the streets: his complexion was -between dark and fair; he had sparkling eyes, and a vivacious and -pleasing expression of countenance. His person was rather elegant than -robust; and he increased the gracefulness of his appearance by a -sedulous attention to dress. "Do you remember," he wrote to his brother -Gerard, many years after, "our white robes; and our chagrin when their -studied elegance suffered the least injury, either in the disposition of -their folds, or in their spotless cleanliness? do you remember our tight -shoes and how we bore the tortures which they inflicted, without a -murmur? and our care lest the breezes should disturb the arrangement of -our hair?" - -Such tastes befit the season of youth, which, always in extremes, is apt -otherwise to diverge into negligence and disorder. But Petrarch could -not give up his entire mind to frivolity and the pleasures of society: -he sought the intercourse of the wise, and his warm and tender heart -attached itself with filial or fraternal affection to his good and -learned friends. Among these was John of Florence, canon of Pisa, a -venerable man, devoted to learning, and passionately attached to his -native country. With him Petrarch could recur to his beloved studies and -antique manuscripts. Sometimes, however, the young man was seized with -the spirit of despondency. During such a mood, he had one day recourse -to his excellent friend, and poured out his heart in complaints. "You -know," he said, "the pains I have taken to distinguish myself from the -crowd, and to acquire a reputation for knowledge. You have often told me -that I am responsible to God for the use I make of my talents; and your -praises have spurred me on to exertion: but I know not why, even at the -moment when I hoped for success in my endeavours, I find myself -dispirited, and the sources of my understanding dried up. I stumble at -every step; and in my despair I have recourse to you. Advise me. Shall I -give up my studies? shall I enter on another career? Have pity on me, my -father: raise me from the frightful condition into which I have fallen." - -Petrarch shed tears as he spoke; but the old man encouraged him with -sagacity and kindness. He told him that his best hopes for improvement -must be founded on the discovery he had made of his ignorance. "The veil -is now raised," he said, "and you perceive the darkness which was before -concealed by the presumption of youth. Embark upon the sea before you: -the further you advance, the more immense it will appear; but do not be -deterred. Follow the course which I have counselled you to take, and be -persuaded that God will not abandon you." - -These words re-assured Petrarch, and gave fresh strength to his good -intentions. The incident is worthy of record, as giving a lively picture -of an ingenuous and ambitious mind struggling with and overcoming the -toils of learning. - -At this period commenced his friendship with Giacomo Colonna, who had -resided at Bologna at the same time with him, and had even then been -attracted by his prepossessing appearance and irreproachable conduct, -though he did not seek to be acquainted with him till their return to -Avignon. - -The family of Colonna was the most illustrious of Rome: they had fallen -under the displeasure, and incurred the interdict, of pope Boniface -VIII. who confiscated their estates and drove them into exile. The head -of the family was Stefano, a man of heroic and magnanimous mind. He -wandered for many years a banished man in France and Germany, and a -price was set on his head. On one occasion, a band of armed men, -desirous of earning the ill reward attendant on delivering him up to his -enemies, seized on him, and asked his name, under the belief that he -would fear to acknowledge himself. He replied, "I am Stefano Colonna, a -citizen of Rome;" and the mercenaries into whose hands he had fallen, -struck by his majesty and resolution, set him free. On another occasion, -he appeared suddenly in Italy, on a field of battle, to aid his own -party against the papal forces. Being surrounded and pressed upon by his -foes, one of his friends exclaimed, "O, Stefano, where is your -fortress?" He placed his hand upon his heart, and with a smile replied, -"Here!" This illustrious man had a family of ten children, all -distinguished by their virtues and talents. The third among them was -Giacomo. Petrarch describes his friend in glowing colours. "He was," he -says, "generous, faithful, and true; modest, though endowed with -splendid talents; handsome in person, yet of irreproachable conduct: he -possessed, moreover, the gift of eloquence to an extraordinary degree; -so that he held the hearts of men in his hands, and carried them along -with him by force of words." Petrarch was readily ensnared in the net of -his fascinations. Giacomo introduced his new friend to his brother, the -cardinal Giovanni Colonna, under whose roof he subsequently spent many -years, and who acted towards him, not as a master, but rather as a -partial brother.[28] Petrarch records the kindness of his patrons, in -the language of enthusiastic gratitude. Doubtless, they deserved the -encomiums of his free spirit, a spirit to be subdued only by the power -of affection. We must, however, consider them peculiarly fortunate in -being able to command the society of one whose undeviating integrity, -whose gentleness, and fidelity, adorned talents which have merited -eternal renown. The peculiar charm of Petrarch's character is warmth of -heart, and a native ingenuousness of disposition, which readily laid -bare his soul to those around: there was nothing factitious, nothing put -on for show, in the temper of his mind; he desired to be great and good -in God's eyes, and in those of his friends, for conscience sake, and as -the worthy aim of a Christian man. He did not, therefore, wish to hide -his imperfections; but rather sought them out, that he might bring a -remedy; and betrayed the uneasiness they occasioned, with the utmost -simplicity and singleness of mind. When to this delightful frankness -were added splendid talents, the charm of poetry, so highly valued in -the country of the Troubadours, an affectionate and generous -disposition, vivacious and engaging manners, and an attractive exterior; -we cannot wonder that Petrarch was the darling of his age, the associate -of its greatest men, and the man whom princes delighted to honour. - -Hitherto the feelings of friendship had engrossed him: love had not yet -robbed him of sleep, nor dimmed his eyes with tears; and he wondered to -behold such weakness in others.[29] Now at the age of twenty-three, -after the fire of mere boyhood had evaporated, he felt the power of a -violent and inextinguishable passion. -[Sidenote:1327. -Ætat. -23.] -At six in the morning, on the 6th of April, A. D. 1327 (he often fondly -records the exact year, day, and hour), on occasion of the festival of -Easter, he visited the church of Sainte Claire at Avignon, and beheld, -for the first time, Laura de Sâde. She was just twenty years of age, -and in the bloom of beauty,--a beauty so touching and heavenly, so -irradiated by purity and smiling innocence, and so adorned by gentleness -and modesty, that the first sight stamped the image in the poet's heart, -never hereafter to be erased. - -Laura was the daughter of Audibert de Noves, a noble and a knight: she -lost her father in her early youth; and at the age of seventeen, her -mother married her to Hugh de Sâde, a young noble only a few years -older than his bride. She was distinguished by her rank and fortune, but -more by her loveliness, her sweetness, and the untainted purity of her -life and manners in the midst of a society noted for its -licentiousness.[30] Now she is known as the subject of Petrarch's -verses; as the woman who inspired an immortal passion, and, kindling -into living fire the dormant sensibility of the poet, gave origin to the -most beautiful and refined, the most passionate, and yet the most -delicate, amatory poetry that exists in the world. - -Petrarch beheld the loveliness and sweetness of the young beauty, and -was transfixed. He sought acquaintance with her; and while the manners -of the times prevented his entering her house[31], he enjoyed many -opportunities of meeting her in society, and of conversing with her. He -would have declared his love, but her reserve enforced silence. "She -opened my breast," he writes, "and took my heart into her hand, saying, -'Speak no word of this.'" Yet the reverence inspired by her modesty and -dignity was not always sufficient to restrain her lover: being alone -with her, and she appearing more gracious than usual, Petrarch, on one -occasion, tremblingly and fearfully confessed his passion, but she, with -altered looks, replied, "I am not the person you take me for!" Her -displeasure froze the very heart of the poet, so that he fled from her -presence in grief and dismay.[32] - -No attentions on his part could make any impression on her steady and -virtuous mind. While love and youth drove him on, she remained -impregnable and firm; and when she found that he still rushed wildly -forward, she preferred forsaking, to following him to the precipice down -which he would have hurried her. Meanwhile, as he gazed on her angelic -countenance, and saw purity painted on it, his love grew as spotless as -herself. Love transforms the true lover into a resemblance of the object -of his passion. In a town, which was the asylum of vice, calumny never -breathed a taint upon Laura's name: her actions, her words, the very -expression of her countenance, and her slightest gestures were replete -with a modest reserve combined with sweetness, and won the applause of -all.[33] - -The passion of Petrarch was purified and exalted at the same time. Laura -filled him with noble aspirations, and divided him from the common herd. -He felt that her influence made him superior to vulgar ambition; and -rendered him wise, true, and great. She saved him in the dangerous -period of youth, and gave a worthy aim to all his endeavours. The -manners of his age permitted one solace; a Platonic attachment was the -fashion of the day. The troubadours had each his lady to adore, to wait -upon, and to celebrate in song; without its being supposed that she made -him any return beyond a gracious acceptance of his devoirs, and the -allowing him to make her the heroine of his verses. Petrarch endeavoured -to merge the living passion of his soul into this airy and unsubstantial -devotion. Laura permitted the homage: she perceived his merit, and was -proud of his admiration; she felt the truth of his affection, and -indulged the wish of preserving it and her own honour at the same time. -Without her inflexibility, this had been a dangerous experiment: but she -always kept her lover distant from her: rewarding his reserve by smiles, -and repressing by frowns all the overflowings of his heart. - -By her resolute severity, she incurred the danger of ceasing to be the -object of his attachment, and of losing the gift of an immortal name, -which he has conferred upon her. But Petrarch's constancy was proof -against hopelessness and time. He had too fervent an admiration of her -qualities, ever to change: he controlled the vivacity of his feelings, -and they became deeper rooted. The struggle cost him his peace of mind. -From the moment that love had seized upon his heart, the tenor of his -life was changed. He fed upon tears, and took a fatal pleasure in -complaints and sighs; his nights became sleepless, and the beloved name -dwelt upon his lips during the hours of darkness. He desired death, and -sought solitude, devouring there his own heart. He grew pale and thin, -and the flower of youth faded before its time. The day began and closed -in sorrow; the varieties of her behaviour towards him alone imparted joy -or grief, he strove to flee and to forget; but her memory became, and -for ever remained, the ruling law of his existence.[34] - -From this time his poetic life is dated. He probably composed verses -before he saw Laura; but none have been preserved except such as -celebrate his passion. How soon, after seeing her, he began thus to pour -forth his full heart, cannot be told; probably love, which turns the man -of the most prosaic temperament into a versifier, impelled him, at its -birth, to give harmonious expression to the rush of thought and feeling -that it created. Latin was in use among the learned; but ladies, -unskilled in a dead language, were accustomed to be sung by the -Troubadours in their native Provençal dialect. Petrarch loved Italy, and -all things Italian--he perceived the melody, the grace, the earnestness, -which it could embody. The residence of the popes at Avignon caused it -to be generally understood; and in the language of his native Florence, -the poet addressed his lady, though she was born under a less favoured -sky. His sonnets and canzoni obtained the applause they deserved: they -became popular: and he, no doubt, hoped that the description of his -misery, his admiration, his almost idolatry, would gain him favour in -Laura's heart. - -Petrarch had always a great predilection for travelling: the paucity of -books rendered this a mode,--in his eyes, almost the only mode,--for the -attainment of the knowledge for which his nature craved. The first -journey he made after his return from Bologna, was to accompany Giacomo -Colonna on his visit to the diocese of Lombes, of which he had lately -been installed bishop. Lombes is a small town of Languedoc, not far from -Thoulouse; it had been erected into a bishopric by pope John XXII., who -conferred it on Giacomo Colonna, in recompence of an act of intrepid -daring successfully achieved in his behalf. -[Sidenote: 1330. -Ætat. -26.] -It was the summer season, and the travellers proceeded through the most -picturesque part of France, among the Pyrenees, to the banks of the -Garonne. Besides Petrarch, the bishop was accompanied by Lello, the son -of Pietro Stefani, a Roman gentleman; and a Frenchman named Louis. The -friendship that Petrarch formed with both, on this occasion, continued -to the end of their lives: many of his familiar letters are addressed to -them under the appellations of Lælius and Socrates; for Petrarch's -contempt of his own age gave him that tinge of pedantry which caused him -to confer on his favourites the names of the ancients. Lello was a man -of education and learning; he had long lived under the protection of the -Colonna family, by the members of which he was treated as a son or -brother. The transalpine birth of Louis made Petrarch call him a -barbarian; but he found him cultivated and refined, endowed with a -lively imagination, a gay temper, and addicted to music and poetry. In -the society of these men, Petrarch passed a divine summer; it was one of -those periods in his life, towards which his thoughts frequently turned -in after-times with yearning and regret.[35] - -On his return from Lombes, Petrarch became an inmate in the house of -cardinal Colonna. He had leisure to indulge in his taste for literature: -he was unwearied in the labour of discovering, collating, and copying -ancient manuscripts. To him we owe the preservation of many Latin -authors, which, buried in the dust of monastic libraries, and endangered -by the ignorance of their monkish possessors, had been wholly lost to -the world, but for the enthusiasm and industry of a few learned men, -among whom Petrarch ranks pre-eminent. He thought no toil burthensome, -however arduous, which drew from oblivion these monuments of former -wisdom. Often he would not trust to the carelessness of copyists, but -transcribed these works with his own hand. His library was lost to the -world, after his death, through the culpable negligence of the republic -of Venice, to which he had given it; but there still exists, in the -Laurentian library of Florence, the orations of Cicero, and his letters -to Atticus in Petrarch's handwriting. - -His ardour for acquiring knowledge was unbounded,--the society of a -single town, and the few hooks that he possessed, could not satisfy him. -He believed that travelling was the best school for learning. His great -desire was to visit Rome; and a journey hither was projected by him and -the bishop of Lombes. Delays intervening, which prevented their -immediate departure, Petrarch made the tour of France, Flanders, and -Brabant: -[Sidenote: 1331. -Ætat. -27.] -"For which journey," he says, "whatever cause may have been alleged, the -real motive was a fervent desire of extending my experience."[36] He -first visited Paris, and took pleasure in satisfying himself of the -truth or falsehood of the accounts he had heard of that city. His -curiosity was insatiable; when the day did not suffice, he devoted the -night to his enquiries. He found the city ill built and disagreeable, -but he was pleased with the inhabitants; describing them, as a traveller -might of the present day, as gay, and fond of society; facile and -animated in conversation, and amiable in their assemblies and feasts; -eager in their search after amusement, and driving away care by -pleasure; prompt to discover and to ridicule the faults of others, and -covering their own with a thick veil.[37] - -From Paris, Petrarch continued his travels through Liege, -Aix-la-Chapelle, and Cologne. In all places he searched for ancient -manuscripts. At Liege he discovered two orations of Cicero, but could -not find any one capable of copying them in the whole town: it was with -difficulty that he procured some yellow and pale ink, with which he -transcribed them himself.[38] From Cologne he turned his steps homeward, -passing through Ardennes on his way to Lyons. His heart warmed at the -expectation of returning to his friends; and the image of Laura took -possession of his imagination. Whilst wandering alone through the wild -forest, which armed men feared to traverse, no idea of danger occurred -to him; love occupied all his thoughts: the form of Laura flitted among -the trees; and the waving branches, and the song of birds, and the -murmuring streams, made her movements and her voice present to his -senses with all the liveliness of reality. Twilight closed in, and -imparted a portion of dismay, till, emerging from the dark trees, he -beheld the Rhone, which threaded the plains towards the native town of -the lady of his love; and at sight of the familiar river, a joyous -rapture took place of gloom. Two of the most graceful of his sonnets -were written to describe the fantastic images that haunted him as he -traversed the forest, and the kindling of his soul when, emerging from -its depths, he was, as it were serenely welcomed by the delightful -country and beloved river which appeared before him.[39] - -At Lyons a disappointment awaited him: he met, on his arrival, a servant -of the Colonna family, whom he eagerly questioned concerning his -friends; and heard, to his infinite mortification, that Giacomo had -departed for Italy, without waiting for his return. Deeply hurt by this -apparent neglect, he wrote a letter to the bishop, full of bitter -reproaches, which he enclosed to cardinal Colonna, to be forwarded to -his brother; while he delayed somewhat his homeward journey, spending -some weeks at Lyons. He was absent from Avignon, on this occasion, -scarcely more than three months. - -On his return, he found that Giacomo Colonna was not to blame; he having -repaired to Rome by command of the pope, that he might pacify the -discontented citizens, and quell the disturbances occasioned by the -insurgent nobles. Petrarch did not immediately join his friend: he had a -duty to perform towards cardinal Colonna; and the chains which Laura -threw around him, made him slow to quit a city which she inhabited. -[Sidenote: 1335. -Ætat. -31.] -At length he embarked, and proceeded by sea to Cività Vecchia. The -troubled state of the country around Rome rendered it unsafe for a -solitary traveller. Petrarch took refuge in the romantic castle of -Capranica, and wrote to his friends, announcing his arrival. They came -instantly to welcome and escort him. Petrarch at length reached the city -of his dreams. His excited imagination had painted the fallen mistress -of the world in splendid colours; and, warned by his friends, he had -feared disappointment. But the sight of Rome produced no such effect: he -was too real a poet, not to look with awe and reverence on the mighty -and beautiful remains which meet the wanderer's eye at every turn in the -streets of Rome. Petrarch's admiration grew, instead of diminishing. He -found the eternal city greater and more majestic in her ruins than he -had before figured; and, instead of wondering how it was that she had -given laws to the whole earth, he was only surprised that her supremacy -had not been more speedily acknowledged.[40] - -He found inexhaustible gratification in contemplating the magnificent -ruins scattered around. He was accompanied in his researches by Giovanni -da San Vito, brother of Stefano Colonna, who, enveloped in the exile of -his family, had wandered for many years in Persia, Arabia, and Egypt. -Stefano Colonna himself resided in the capital; and Petrarch found in -him an image of those majestic heroes who illustrated the annals of -ancient Rome. - -On leaving Italy, Petrarch gratified his avidity for travel by a long -journey through Spain to Cadiz, and northward, by the sea-shore, as far -as the coasts of England. He went to escape from the chains which -awaited him at Avignon; and, seeking a cure for the wounds which his -heart had received, he endeavoured to obtain health and liberty by -visiting distant countries. It is thus that he speaks of this tour in -his letters. But, though he went far, he did not stay long; for, on the -l6th of August of the same year, he returned to Avignon. - -He came back with the same feelings; and grew more and more dissatisfied -with himself, and the state of agitation and slavery to which the -vicinity of Laura reduced him. The young wife was now the mother of a -family, and more disinclined than ever to tarnish her good name, or to -endanger her peace, by the sad vicissitudes of illicit passion. -Disturbed, and struggling with himself, Petrarch sought various remedies -for the ill that beset him. -[Sidenote: April 20. -1336. -Ætat. -32.] -Among other attempts to divert his thoughts, he made an excursion to -Mont Ventoux, one of the highest mountains Europe; which, placed in a -country where every other hill is much lower, commands a splendid and -extensive view. There is a letter of his to his friend and spiritual -director, father Dionisio Robertis, of San Sepolcro, whom he knew in -Paris, giving an account of the expedition. It was a work of labour to -climb the precipitous mountain; with difficulty, and after many -fatiguing deviations from the right road, he reached its summit. He -gazed around on the earth, spread like a map below; he fixed his eyes on -the Alps, which divided him from Italy; and then, reverting to himself, -he thought--"Ten years ago you quitted Bologna: how are you changed -since then!" The purity of the air, and the vast prospect before him, -gave subtlety and quickness to his perceptions. He reflected on the -agitation of his soul, but not yet arrived in port, he felt that he -ought not to let his thoughts dwell on the tempests that shook his -nature. He thought of her he loved, not, as before, with hope and -animation, but with a sad struggling love, for which he blushed. He -would have changed his feeling to hate; but such an attempt were vain: -he felt ashamed and desperate, as he repeated the verse of Ovid-- - - -"Odero, si potero; si non, invitus amabo." - - -For three years this passion had reigned over him without control: he -now combated it; but his struggles saddened, while they sobered him. -Again he turned his eyes from his own heart to the scene around. As the -sun declined, he regarded the vast expanse of the distant Mediterranean, -the long chain of mountains which divides France from Spain, and the -Rhone which flowed at his feet. He feasted his eyes long on this -glorious spectacle, while pious emotions filled his bosom. He had taken -with him (for Petrarch was never without a book) the volume of St. -Augustin's Confessions: he opened it by chance, and his eyes fell on the -following passage:---"Men make journeys to visit the summits of -mountains, the waves of the sea, the course of rivers, and the immensity -of ocean, while they neglect their own souls." Struck by the -coincidence, Petrarch turned his thoughts inward, and prayed that he -might be enabled to vanquish himself. The moon shone upon their descent -from the mountain (he was accompanied by his brother Gerard, whom he had -selected from among his friends to join him in his excursion); and -arriving at Maulaçene, a town at the foot of Mont Ventoux, Petrarch -relieved his mind by pouring out his heart in a letter to Dionisio -Robertis. - -The immediate result of the reflections thus awakened, was his -retirement to Vaucluse. When a boy, he had visited this picturesque -valley and its fountain, in company with his father, mother, and -brother. He had then been charmed by its beauty and seclusion: and now, -weary of travelling, and resolved to fly from Laura, he took refuge in -the solitude he could here command. - -He bought a small house and field, removed his books, and established -himself. Since then Vaucluse has been often visited for his sake; and he -who was enchanted by its loneliness and beauty, has described, in -letters and verses, with fond and glowing expressions, the charm that it -possessed for him. The valley is narrow, as its name testifies--shut in -by high and craggy hills; the river Sorgue traverses its depth; and on -one side, a vast cavern in the precipitous rock presents itself, from -which the fountain flows, that is the source of the river. Within the -cave, the shadows are black as night; the hills are clothed by -umbrageous trees, under whose shadow the tender grass, starred by -innumerable flowers, offers agreeable repose. The murmur of the torrent -is perennial: that, and the song of the birds, are the only sounds -heard. Such was the retreat that the poet chose. He saw none but the -peasants who took care of his house and tended his little farm. The only -woman near was the hard-working wife of the peasant, old and withered. -No sounds of music visited his ears: he heard, instead, the carolling of -the birds, and the brawling waters. Often he remained in silence from -morning till night, wandering among the hills while the sun was yet low; -and taking refuge, during the heat of the day, in his shady garden, -which, sloping down towards the Sorgue, was terminated on one side by -inaccessible rocks. At night, after performing his clerical duties (for -he was canon of Lombes), he rambled among the hills; often entering, at -midnight, the cavern, whose gloom, even during the day, struck the soul -with awe. - -The peasantry about him were poor and hard-working. His food was usually -black bread; and he was so abstemious, that the servant he brought with -him from Avignon quitted him, unable to endure the solitude and -privations of his retreat. He was then waited on by the neighbouring -cottager, a fisherman, whose life had been spent among fountains and -rivers, deriving his subsistence from the rocks. "To call this man -faithful," says Petrarch, "is a tame expression: he was fidelity -itself." Without being able to read, he revered and cherished the books -his master loved; and, all rude and illiterate, his pious regard for the -poet raised him almost to the rank of a friend. His wife was yet more -rustic. Her skin was burned by the sun till it resembled nothing human. -She was humble, faithful, and laborious; passing her life in the fields, -working under the noonday sun; while the evening was dedicated to indoor -labour. She never complained, nor ever showed any mark of discontent. -She slept on straw: her food was the coarsest black bread; her drink -water, in which she mingled a little wine, as sour as vinegar. - -It was here that Petrarch hoped to subdue his passion, and to forget -Laura. "Fool that I was!" he exclaims in after-life, "not to have -remembered the first schoolboy lesson--that solitude is the nurse of -love!" How, with his thoughts for his sole companions, preying -perpetually on his own heart, could he forget her who occupied him -exclusively in courts and cities? And thus he tells, in musical and -thrilling accents, how, amidst woods, and hills, and murmuring waves, -her image was painted on every object, and contemplated by him till he -forgot himself to stone, more dead than the living rocks among which he -wandered. It is almost impossible to translate Petrarch's poetry; for -his subtle and delicate thoughts, when generalised, seem common-place; -and his harmony and grace, which have never been equalled, are -inimitable. The only translations which retain the spirit of the -original, are by lady Dacre; and we extract her version of one of the -canzoni, as a specimen of his style, and as affording a vivid picture of -his wild melancholy life among the solitary mountains. - - -"From hill to hill I roam, from thought to thought, -With Love my guide; the beaten path I fly, -For there in vain the tranquil life is sought: -If 'mid the waste well forth a lonely rill, -Or deep embosom'd a low valley lie, -In its calm shade my trembling heart is still; -And there, if Love so will, -I smile, or weep, or fondly hope or fear, -While on my varying brow, that speaks the soul, -The wild emotions roll, -Now dark, now bright, as shifting skies appear; -That whosoe'er has proved the lover's state -Would say, 'He feels the flame, nor knows his future fate.' - -"On mountains high, in forests drear and wide, -I find repose, and from the throng'd resort -Of man turn fearfully my eyes aside; -At each lone step thoughts ever new arise -Of her I love, who oft with cruel sport -Will mock the pangs I bear, the tears, the sighs; -Yet e'en these ills I prize, -Though bitter, sweet--nor would they were removed; -For my heart whispers me, 'Love yet has power -To grant a happier hour: -Perchance, though self-despised, thou yet art loved.' -E'en then my breast a passing sigh will heave, -Ah! when, or how, may I a hope so wild believe? - -"Where shadows of high rocking pines dark wave, -I stay my footsteps; and on some rude stone, -With thought intense, her beauteous face engrave: -Roused from the trance, my bosom bathed I find -With tears, and cry, 'Ah! whither thus alone -Hast thou far wander'd? and whom left behind?' -But as with fixed mind -On this fair image I impassion'd rest, -And, viewing her, forget awhile my ills, -Love my rapt fancy fills; -In its own error sweet the soul is blest, -While all around so bright the visions glide; -O! might the cheat endure,--I ask not aught beside. - -"Her form portray'd within the lucid stream -Will oft appear, or on the verdant lawn, -Or glossy beech, or fleecy cloud, will gleam -So lovely fair, that Leda's self might say, -Her Helen sinks eclipsed, as at the dawn -A star when cover'd by the solar ray: -And, as o'er wilds I stray, -Where the eye nought but savage nature meets, -There Fancy most her brightest tints employs; -But when rude truth destroys -The loved illusion of those dreamed sweets, -I sit me down on the cold rugged stone, -Less cold, less dead than I, and think and weep alone. - -"Where the huge mountain rears his brow sublime, -On which no neighbouring height its shadow flings, -Led by desire intense the steep I climb; -And tracing in the boundless space each woe, -Whose sad remembrance my torn bosom wrings. -Tears, that bespeak the heart o'erfraught, will flow. -While viewing all below, -From me, I cry, what worlds of air divide -The beauteous form, still absent and still near! -Then chiding soft the tear, -I whisper, low, haply she, too, has sigh'd -That thou art far away; a thought so sweet -Awhile my labouring soul will of its burden cheat. - -"Go thou, my song, beyond that Alpine bound, -Where the pure smiling heavens are most serene: -There, by a murmuring stream, may I be found, -Whose gentle airs around -Waft grateful odours from the laurel green; -Nought but my empty form roams here unblest. -There dwells my heart with her who steals it from my breast."[41] - - -Petrarch's Italian poetry, written either to please his lady or to -relieve the overflowing of his hearty bears in every line the stamp of -warm and genuine, though of refined and chivalric, passion. It has been -criticised as too imaginative, and defaced by conceits: of the latter -there are a few, confined to a small portion of the sonnets. They will -not be admired now, yet, perhaps, they are not those of the poems which -came least spontaneously from the heart. Those have experienced little -of the effects of passion, of love, grief, or terror, who do not know -that conceits often spring naturally from such. Shakspeare knew this; -and he seldom describes the outbursts of passion unaccompanied by -fanciful imagery which borders on conceit. Still more false is the -notion, that passion is not, in its essence, highly imaginative. Hard -and dry critics, who neither feel themselves nor sympathise in the -feelings of others, alone can have made this accusation: these people, -whose inactive and colourless fancy naturally suggests no new -combination nor fresh tint of beauty, suppose that is a cold exercise of -the mind, when - - -"The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling, -Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven." - - -As they with difficulty arrive at comprehending poetic creations, they -believe that they were produced by dint of hard labour and deep study. -The truth is the opposite of this. To the imaginative, fanciful imagery -and thoughts, whose expression seems steeped in the hues of dawn, are -natural and unforced: when the mind of such is calm, their conceptions -resemble those of other men; but when excited by passion, when love, or -patriotism, or the influence of nature, kindles the soul, it becomes -natural, nay, imperative to them to embody their thoughts, and to give -"a local habitation and a name" to the emotions that possess them. The -remarks of critics on the overflowings of poetic minds remind one of the -traveller who expressed such wonder when, on landing at Calais, he heard -little children talk French. - -Petrarch, on the other hand, would deceive us, or rather deceived -himself, when he alludes depreciatingly to his Italian poetry. Latin was -the language of learned men: he deemed it degrading to write for the -people; and, fancying that the difficulty of writing Latin was an -obstacle glorious to overcome, he treated with disdain any works -expressed in the vulgar tongue. Yet even while he said that these -compositions were puerile, he felt in his heart the contrary. He -bestowed great pains on correcting them, and giving them that polished -grace for which they are remarkable. Still his reason (which in this -instance, as in others, is often less to be depended upon than our -intuitive convictions,) assured him that he could never hold a high -place among poets till he composed a Latin poem. - -While living in solitude at Vaucluse, yet ambitious that the knowledge -of his name should pass beyond the confines of his narrow valley, and be -heard even in Italy, he meditated some great work worthy of the genius -he felt within him. He at first contemplated writing a history of Rome; -from Romulus to Titus; till one day the idea of an epic poem; on the -subject of his favourite hero. Scipio Africanus, struck him. He -instantly commenced it with all the ardour of a first conception, and -continued for some time to build up cold dull Latin hexameters. It is -curious to mark how ill he succeeded: but the structure and spirit of -the language he used was then totally unknown; so that, while we lament -the mis-spending of his time, we cannot wonder at his failure. - -He passed several years thus almost cut off from society: his books were -his great resource; he was never without one in his hand. He relates in -a letter, how, as a playful experiment, a friend locked up his library, -intending to exclude him from it for three days; but the poet's misery -caused him to restore the key on the first evening:--"And I verily -believe I should have become insane," Petrarch writes, "if my mind had -been longer deprived of its necessary nourishment." The friend who thus -played with his passion for reading, was Philip de Cabassoles, bishop of -Cavaillon. Cavaillon is a pretty but insignificant town, situated on the -slope of a mountain near the Durance, twelve miles distant from Avignon, -and six from Vaucluse. He became intimate with Petrarch here, and they -cemented a friendship which lasted his life. Sometimes Petrarch visited -Cabassoles at Cabrières, where he resided; often the bishop came to the -poet's cottage. They frequently passed the livelong day together in the -woods, without thinking of refreshment, or whole nights among their -books, when morning often dawned upon them unawares. After two years' -residence in this seclusion, Petrarch continued so pleased with it, that -he wrote to Giacomo Colonna, who had endeavoured, by promises of -preferment and advantage, to entice him from it, imploring him to let -him remain in a position so congenial to his disposition. "You know," he -says, "how false and vain are the enticements of a court; and that the -men most in favour there are the fools and rogues who attain dignities -and places through adulation and simony. Why, then, should you, a man of -honour, desire that I should return to a court? And even if it were -possible that I should obtain any thing from the munificence of the -pope, the detestable vices of the court are horrible to me. When I -quitted the papal residence, know that I sang the psalm 'In exitu Israel -ex Ægypto.' I enjoy, in the delightful solitude of Vaucluse, a sweet -and imperturbable tranquillity, and the placid and blameless leisure of -study. Any spare time I may have I go to Cabrières to amuse myself. Ah! -if you were permitted to take up your abode in this valley, you would -assuredly be disgusted, not only with the pope and cardinals, but the -whole world. I am firmly resolved never to behold the court again." - -In this letter, however, he but half expresses the cause of his hatred -to Avignon; for he does not allude to Laura, while it was the memory of -her that not only made him fly the city in which she lived, but tremble -at the mere thought of how near he still was. And while he describes the -heavenly tranquillity of his seclusion, and the beauty that adorned it, -he exclaims, "But the vicinity of Avignon poisons all." So deep was his -fear of reviving his passion by seeing its object, that he never even -visited that city for a few days. On one occasion, hearing that his -friend, William da Pastrengo, had arrived there, he repaired thither -instantly to see him: but, on his arrival within the precincts of the -fatal walls, he felt his chains fall so heavily around him, that, -resolved to cast them off at once, without tarrying an hour, without -seeing his friend, the same night he returned to Vaucluse, and then -wrote to excuse himself; alleging, as his motive, his desire to escape -from the net of passion that enveloped him in that town. At the same -time, with the contradictory impulses of a lover, he entreated the -painter, Simon Memmi, a pupil of Giotto, just arrived in Provence, and -in high esteem with the pope and cardinals, to execute for him a small -portrait of Laura.[42] Simon consented; and was so pleased with the -model thus presented him, that he frequently afterwards introduced her -face into his pictures of saints and angels. Petrarch repaid his -friend's complaisance by two sonnets of praise and commendation. - -In the imaginary conversations which Petrarch pictures himself to have -held with St. Augustin, the saint tells him that he is bound by two -adamantine chains--love and glory. To free himself from the first of -these he had retreated to Vaucluse, and found the attempt vain. The -second passion of his soul became even more strong, allying itself to -the first, for he wished Laura's lover to be renowned. This was also -more successful, as, beside the honour in which he was held by all who -knew him, it proved that his name was heard in distant countries, and -his merit acknowledged. -[Sidenote: 1340. -Ætat. -36.] -He had before entertained a vague wish for the laurel crown of poetry; -but it was beyond his hopes, when, on the same day, the 24th of August, -1340, while at Vaucluse, he received letters from the Roman senate, and -from the chancellor of the university of Paris, inviting him to receive -it. Hesitating to which city to yield the preference, he wrote to ask -the advice of cardinal Colonna; and, counselled by him, as well as -following his own predilection, decided in favour of Rome. - -Another circumstance influenced Petrarch in this choice. Not long -before, his friend Dionisio Robertis had visited him at Vaucluse on his -way to the court of Robert king of Naples. From him Petrarch heard of -the literary tastes and liberal disposition of this amiable monarch. He -had already meditated a visit to him, and letters had been interchanged -between them. The circumstance of his coronation gave him a fair excuse -for paying him a visit. In the ardour of an age scarcely yet mature; he -believed himself worthy of the honour conferred on him; but he tells us -that he felt ashamed of relying only on his own testimony and that of -the persons who invited him. Perhaps the desire of display, and of -proving to the world that he was no illiterate pretender, was the -stronger motive. However this might be; he made choice of the king of -Naples; more illustrious in his eyes for his learning than his crown, to -examine his claim to distinction, and be the judge of his deserts.[43] - -[Sidenote: 1341. -Ætat. -37.] - -He lost no time in repairing to the court of king Robert, who received -him with a warmth of friendship that excited his deepest gratitude. -Hearing the object of the poet's visit, he expressed great delight, and -considered the choice made of him, among all mortals, to be the judge of -his merits, as glorious to himself. During the many conversations they -held together, Petrarch showed the monarch the commencement of his poem -on Africa. Robert, highly delighted, begged that it might be dedicated -to him: the poet gladly assented, and kept his promise, though the king -died before it could be fulfilled. The examination of his acquirements -lasted three days, after which the king declared him worthy of the -laurel, and sent an ambassador to be present on his part when the crown -was conferred. -[Sidenote: April -17. -1341.] -Petrarch repaired to Rome for the ceremony, and was crowned in the -capitol with great solemnity, in presence of all the nobles and -high-born ladies of the city. "I then," writes Petrarch, "thought myself -worthy of the honour: love and enthusiasm bore me on. But the laurel did -not increase my knowledge, while it gave birth to envy in the hearts of -many."[44] - -Leaving Rome soon after his coronation, Petrarch intended to return to -Avignon, but passing t through Parma he was detained by his friend Azzo -Correggio, who ruled the city, governing it with incomparable wisdom and -moderation. The friendship between Azzo and Petrarch had commenced at -Avignon, where, for the first and only time, Petrarch had been induced -to take on himself the office of a barrister, and pleaded the cause of -the Correggii against their enemies the Rossi before the pope, and -succeeded in obtaining a decision in their favour. This, as is -mentioned, is the only occasion on which Petrarch played the advocate; -and he boasts of having gained the cause for his clients without using -towards their adversaries the language of derision and sarcasm. - -Petrarch, meanwhile, remembering the honour he had received, was -solicitous not to appear unworthy of it; and, on a day, wandering among -the hills and crossing the river Ensa, he entered the wood of Selva -Piana: struck by the beauty of the place, he turned his thoughts to his -neglected poem of Africa; and, excited by an enthusiasm for his subject -which had long been dormant, he composed that day, and on each following -one, some verses. On returning to Parma he sought and found a tranquil -and fit dwelling: buying the house that thus pleased him, he fixed -himself at Parma, and continued to occupy himself with his poem with so -much ardour, that he brought it to a conclusion with a speed that -excited his own surprise.[45] - -At this time Petrarch suffered the first of those losses which -afterwards cast such gloomy shadows over his life, in the death, first -of Thomas of Messina, and then of a dearer friend, Giacomo Colonna. -Tommaso Caloria of Messina had studied with Petrarch at Bologna, and -many of his letters are addressed to him. There existed a strict -friendship between them, both loving and cultivating literature. His -early death deeply affected the warm-hearted poet. The impression he -received was so melancholy and bitter, that he desired to die also; and -a fever, the consequence of his grief, made him imagine that in reality -his end was approaching. To add to his disquietude, he heard of the -illness of Giacomo Colonna. The bishop was at that time residing at -Lombes, apart from all his family, and Petrarch was about to join him to -fulfil his duties as canon. At this time he one night dreamt that he saw -Giacomo Colonna, in his garden at Parma, crossing the rivulet that -traversed it. He went to meet him, asking him, with surprise, whence he -came? whither he was going in such haste? and wherefore unattended? The -bishop replied, smiling, "Do you not remember when you visited the -Garonne with me, how you disliked the thunder-storms of the Pyrenees? -They now annoy me also, and I am returning to Rome." So saying he -hastened on, repelling with his hand Petrarch, who was about to follow -him, saying, "Remain, you must not now accompany me." As he spoke, his -countenance changed, and it was overspread with the hues of death. -Nearly a month after, Petrarch heard that the bishop had died during the -night on which this dream had occurred. The poet was a faithful and -believing son of the church of Rome, but he was not superstitious, and -saw nothing supernatural in this affecting coincidence. The loss of his -friend and patron grieved him deeply, and his mourning was renewed soon -after by the death of Dionisio Robertis. These reiterated losses made so -profound an impression, that he trembled and turned pale on receiving -any letter, and feared at each instant to hear of some new disaster. - -Satisfied with the tranquillity which he enjoyed at Parma, he resisted -the frequent and earnest solicitations of his friends at Avignon to -return among them. He did not forget Laura. Her image often occupied -him. It was here we may believe that he wrote the canzone before quoted, -and many sonnets, which showed with what lively and earnest thoughts he -cherished the passion which had so long reigned over him. He could not -write letters; but as it is a lover's dearest solace to make his -mistress aware that his attachment survives time and absence, Petrarch, -we may easily suppose, was glad, by the medium of his heartfelt poetry, -to communicate with her who, he hoped, prized his affection, even if she -did not silently return it. Still love, while far from her, did not so -pertinaciously and cruelly torment, and he was unwilling to trust -himself within the influence of her presence. It required a powerful -motive to induce him to pass the Alps; but this occurred after no long -period of time. Italy, and especially Rome, was torn by domestic faction -and the lawlessness of the nobles. Petrarch saw in the secession of the -popes to Avignon the cause of these disasters. His patriotic spirit -kindled with indignation, that the head of the church and the world -should desert the queen of cities, and inhabit an insignificant -province. He had often exerted all his eloquence to induce successive -popes to return to the palaces and temples of Italy. Pope Benedict XII. -died at this time, and Clement VI. was elected to fill the papal chair. -One of the first incidents of his reign was the arrival of an embassy -from Rome, soliciting the restoration of the papal residence. Petrarch, -having been already made citizen of that city, was chosen one of the -deputies.[46] -[Sidenote: 1342. -Ætat. -38.] -He and Rienzi (who afterwards played so celebrated a part) addressed the -pope. Their representations were of no avail; but Clement rewarded the -poet by naming him prior of Migliarino in the diocese of Pisa. - -Petrarch remained at Avignon. The sight of Laura gave fresh energy to a -passion which had survived the lapse of fifteen years. She was no longer -the blooming girl who had first charmed him. The cares of life had -dimmed her beauty. She was the mother of many children, and had been -afflicted at various times by illnesses. Her home was not happy. Her -husband, without loving or appreciating her, was ill-tempered and -jealous. Petrarch acknowledged that if her personal charms had been her -sole attraction he had already ceased to love her. But his passion was -nourished by sympathy and esteem; and above all, by that mysterious -tyranny of love, which, while it exists, the mind of man seems to have -no power of resisting, though in feebler minds it sometimes vanishes -like a dream. Petrarch was also changed in personal appearance. His hair -was sprinkled with grey, and lines of care and sorrow trenched his face. -On both sides the tenderness of affection began to replace, in him the -violence of passion, in her the coyness and severity she had found -necessary to check his pursuit. The jealousy of her husband opposed -obstacles to their seeing each other.[47] They met as they could in -public walks and assemblies. Laura sang to him, and a soothing -familiarity grew up between them as her fears became allayed, and he -looked forward to the time when they might sit together and converse -without dread. He had a confidant in a Florentine poet, Sennucio del -Bene, attached to the service of cardinal Colonna, to whom many of his -sonnets are addressed, now asking him for advice, now relating the -slight but valued incidents of a lover's life. - -He had another confidant into whose ear to pour the history of his -heart. This was the public. In those days, when books were rare, reading -was a luxury reserved for a few, and it was chiefly by oral -communication that a poet's contemporaries became acquainted with his -productions; and there was a class of men, not poets themselves, who -chiefly subsisted by repeating the productions of others:--"men," writes -Petrarch, "of no genius, but endowed with memory and industry. Unable to -compose themselves, they recite the verses of others at the tables of -the great, and receive gifts in return. They are chiefly solicitous to -please their audience by novelty. How often have they importuned me with -entreaties for my yet unfinished poems! Often I refused. Sometimes, -moved by the poverty or worth of my applicants, I yield to their -desires. The loss is small to me, the gain to them is great. Many have -visited me, poor and naked, who, having obtained what they asked, -returned, loaded with presents, and dressed in silk, to thank me." These -were the booksellers of the middle ages. It was thus that the Italian -poetry of Petrarch became known; and he, finding that it was often -disfigured in repetition, took pains at last to collect and revise it. -He performed the latter task with much care; and afterwards said, that -though he saw a thousand faults in his other works, he had brought his -Italian poetry to as great a degree of perfection as he was capable of -bestowing. - -He applied himself to Greek at this time under Bernardo Barlaam, a -Calabrian by birth, but educated at Constantinople. He had come to -Avignon as ambassador from the Greek emperor Andronicus, for the purpose -of reconciling the Greek and Roman churches. They read several of the -Dialogues of Plato together. The hook entitled "The Secret of Francesco -Petrarca" was written at this period. This work is in the form of -dialogues with St. Augustin. Petrarch, assisted by the questions and -remarks of the saint, examines the state of his mind, laying bare every -secret of his soul, its weaknesses and its fears, with the utmost -ingenuousness. He relates the struggles of his passion for Laura, and -accuses himself of that love of glory which was the spur of so many of -his actions. He speaks of the constitutional melancholy of his -disposition, which often rendered him gloomy and almost despairing; and -he is hid by the saint to seek a remedy for his sorrows, and make -atonement for his faults, by dedicating hereafter all his faculties to -God. - -His literary pursuits were interrupted by a public duty. His friend -Robert, king of Naples, died, and was succeeded by his daughter -Giovanna, married to Andrea, prince of Hungary. -[Sidenote: 1343. -Ætat. -39.] -The greatest dissension reigned between the royal pair; besides which, -the young queen was not of an age to govern, and the pope had -pretensions to supremacy during her minority. Petrarch was sent as -ambassador to establish the papal claim; and he was commissioned, also, -by cardinal Colonna, to obtain the release of some prisoners of rank -unjustly detained at Naples. - -During this mission he became attached to the party of queen Giovanna, -who inherited her father's love of letters; so that afterwards, when her -husband was murdered, he believed her to be innocent of all share in the -crime. He was displeased, however, with the court and the gladiatorial -exhibitions in fashion there. Having obtained the liberty of the -prisoners, and brought his mission from the pope to a successful -conclusion, he returned to Parma. This part of Italy was in a state of -dreadful disturbance, arising from the wars carried on by the various -lords of Parma, Verona, Ferrara, Bologna, and Padua. Petrarch, besieged, -as it were, in the first-named town, was obliged to remain. He had still -the house he had bought, and the books he had collected and left in -Italy. He loved his cisalpine Parnassus, as he named his Italian home, -in contradistinction to his transalpine Parnassus at Vaucluse; and, -occupying himself with his poem of Africa, he was content to prolong his -stay in his native country. -[Sidenote: 1345. -Ætat. -41.] -At length the roads became safe, and he returned to Avignon. - -And now an event occurred which electrified Italy, and filled the papal -court with astonishment and disquietude. Nicola di Rienzi, inspired by a -desire to free his townsmen from the cruel tyranny of the nobles, with -wonderful promptitude and energy, seized upon the government of Rome, -assumed the name of tribune, and reduced all the men of rank, with -Stefano Colonna at their head, to make public submission to his power. -The change he produced in the state of the country was miraculous. -Before, travellers scarcely ventured, though armed and in bodies, to -traverse the various states: under him the roads became secure; and his -emissaries, bearing merely a white wand in their hands, passed -unmolested from one end of Italy to the other. Order and plenty reigned -through the land. The pope and cardinals were filled with alarm; while -Petrarch hailed with glowing enthusiasm the restoration of peace and -empire to his beloved country. He wrote the tribune letters full of -encouragement and praise. His heart swelled with delight at the prospect -of the renewed glories of Rome; and such was his blind exultation, that -he scarcely mourned the death of several of the most distinguished -members of the Colonna family, who fell in the straggle between the -nobles and Rienzi. - -He desired to return to Italy to enjoy the triumph of liberty and law -over oppression and licence. More and more he hated Avignon. Pope -Clement VI. was a man of refinement, and a munificent prince: but he was -luxurious and dissolute; so that the vices of the court, which filled -the poet with immeasurable abhorrence, increased during his reign. He -had offered Petrarch the dignity of bishop, and the honourable and -influential post of apostolic secretary; but the poet declined to accept -the proferred rank. Love of independence was strong in his heart; and he -desired no wealth beyond competence, which was secured to him by the -preferment he already enjoyed. He was at this time archdeacon of Parma, -as well as canon of various cathedrals. He obtained with difficulty the -consent of his friends to abandon Avignon for Italy. Cardinal Colonna -reproached him bitterly for deserting him; and Laura saw him depart with -regret. When he went to take leave of her, he found her (as he describes -in several of his sonnets) surrounded by a circle of ladies. Her mien -was dejected; a cloud overcast her face, whose expression seemed to say, -"Who takes my faithful friend from me?" Petrarch was struck to the heart -by a sad presentiment: the emotion was mutual; they both seemed to feel -that they should never meet again. - -Yet, restless and discontented, he would not stay. He had no ties of -home. His brother Gerard had taken vows, and become a Carthusian monk: -he invited Petrarch to follow his example; but the poet's love of -independence prevented this, as well as every other servitude. Belonging -to the Romish church, he could not marry; and though he had two children -he was not attached to their mother, of whom nothing more is known -except the declaration, in the letters of legitimacy obtained afterwards -for her son, that she was not a married woman. Of these two children the -daughter was yet an infant. The boy, now ten years of age, he had placed -at Verona, under the care of Rinaldo da Villafranca. - -[Sidenote: 1347. -Ætat. -43.] - -Leaving Avignon, Petrarch passed through Genoa, where he heard of the -follies and downfall of Rienzi; instead, therefore, of proceeding to -Rome, he repaired to his house at Parma. - -[Sidenote: 1348. -Ætat. -44.] - -The fatal year now began which cast mourning and gloom over the rest of -his life. It was a year fatal to the whole world. The plague, which had -been extending its ravages over Asia, entered Europe. As if for an omen -of the greater calamity, a disastrous earthquake occurred on the 25th of -January. Petrarch was timid: he feared thunder--he dreaded the sea; and -the alarming concussion of nature that shook Italy filled him with -terror. The plague then extended its inroads to increase his alarm. It -spread its mortal ravages far and wide: nearly one half of the -population of the world became its prey. Petrarch saw thousands die -around him, and he trembled for his friends: he heard that it was at -Avignon, and his friend Sennucio del Bene had fallen its victim. A -thousand sad presentiments haunted his mind. He recollected the altered -countenance of Laura when he last saw her; he dreamed of her as dead; -her pale image hovered near his couch, bidding him never expect to see -her more. At last, the fatal truth reached him: he received intelligence -of her death on the 19th of May. By a singular coincidence, she died on -the anniversary of the day when he first saw her. She was taken ill on -the 3d of April, and languished but three days. As soon as the symptoms -of the plague declared themselves, she prepared to die: she made her -will, which is dated on the 3d of April[48], and received the sacraments -of the church. On the 6th she died, surrounded to the last by her -friends and the noble ladies of Avignon, who braved the danger of -infection to attend on one so lovely and so beloved. On the evening of -the same day on which she died, she was interred in the chapel of the -Cross which her husband had lately built in the church of the Minor -Friars at Avignon. With her was buried a leaden box, fastened with wire, -which enclosed a medal and a sealed parchment, on which was inscribed an -Italian sonnet. If the sonnet were the composition of Petrarch, as the -sense of it would intimate, although its want of merit renders it -doubtful, this box must have been placed in the grave at a subsequent -period. - -The sensitive heart of Petrarch had often dwelt on the possibility of -Laura's death. Although she was only three years his junior, he -comforted himself by the reflection that as he had entered life first so -he should be the first to quit it.[49] This fond hope was -disapappointed: he lost her who, for more than twenty years, had -continually been the object of all his thoughts: he lost her at a period -when he began to hope that, while time diminished the violence of his -passion, it might draw them nearer as friends. The sole melancholy -consolation now afforded him was derived from the contemplation of the -past. That at each hour of the day her memory might be more vividly -present to his thoughts, he fixed to the binding of his copy of Virgil a -record of her death, written in Latin, of which the following is a -translation:-- - -"Laura, illustrious through her own virtues, and long celebrated by my -verses, first appeared to me in my youth, in the year of our Lord 1327, -on the sixth day of April, in the church of Ste. Claire, at Avignon, at -the ninth hour[50] of the morning. And in the same city, during the same -month of April, on the same day of the month, and at the same early -hour, but in the year 1348, this light was withdrawn from the world; -while I, alas! ignorant of my fate, chanced to be at Verona. The unhappy -intelligence reached me through the letters of my friend Louis, at -Parma, in the same year, on the morning of the nineteenth of May. Her -chaste and beautiful body was deposited, on the evening of her death in -the church of the Minor Friars at Avignon.[51] Her soul, as Seneca says -of Africanus, I believe to have returned to the heaven whence it came. -To mingle some sweetness with the bitter memory of this miserable event, -I have selected this place to record it, which often meets my eyes; so -that by frequent view of these words, and by due estimation of the swift -passage of time, I may be reminded that nothing henceforth can please me -in life, and that, my chief tie being broken, it is time that I should -escape from this Babylon; and, by the grace of God, I shall find this -easy, while I resolutely and boldly reflect on the vain cares of years -gone by, on my futile hopes, and on their unexpected downfall."[52] - -Death consecrates and deepens the sentiment with which we regard a -beloved object; it is no wonder, therefore, that Petrarch, whose -sensibility and warmth of feeling surpassed that of all other men, -should have gone beyond himself in the poems he wrote subsequent to -Laura's death. Nothing can be more tender, more instinct with the spirit -of passionate melancholy, and, at the same time, more beautiful, than -the sonnets and canzoni which lament her loss. It was his only -consolation to recur to all the marks of affection he had ever received -from her, and to believe that she regarded him with tender interest from -her place of bliss in heaven. He indulged, also, in another truly -catholic mode of testifying his affection, by giving large sums in -charity for the sake of her soul, and causing so many masses to be said -for the same purpose, that, as a priest who was his contemporary, -informed his congregation, in a sermon, "they had been sufficient to -withdraw her from the hands of the devil, had she been the worst woman -in the world; while, on the contrary, her death was holy."[53] - -The death of Laura, overwhelming as it was, was but a prelude to -numerous others. Petrarch had lived among many dear friends; but the -plague appeared, and their silent graves were soon all that remained to -him of them. Cardinal Colonna died in the course of this same year. He -was the last surviving son of the hero Stefano, who lived to become -childless in his old age. Petrarch relates in a letter, that during his -first visit to Rome, he was walking one evening with Stefano in the wide -street that led from the Colonna palace to the Capitol, and they paused -in an open place formed by the meeting of several streets. They both -leant their elbows on an antique marble, and their conversation turned -on the actual condition of the Colonna family: after other observations -that fell from Stefano, he turned to Petrarch with tears in his eyes, -saying, "With regard to the heir of my possessions, I desire and ought -to leave them to my sons; but fate has ordered otherwise. By a reversal -of the order of nature, which I deplore, it is I--decrepit old man as I -am--who will inherit from all my children." As he spoke, grief seized -upon his heart, and interrupted further speech. Now this singular -prophecy was fulfilled; and Petrarch, in his letter of condolence, -reminds the unhappy father of this scene. The old man, however, survived -but a few months the last of his sons. - -Petrarch, during the autumn, visited Giacomo da Carrara, lord of Padua, -who had often invited him with a warmth and pertinacity, which he found -it at length impossible to resist. Pie passed many months in that town, -visiting occasionally Parma, Mantua, and Ferrara, being much favoured -and beloved by the various lords of these cities. -[Sidenote: 1350. -Ætat. -46.] -On occasion of the jubilee, he went to Rome in pilgrimage, to avail -himself of the religious indulgences afforded on that occasion. On his -way through Florence, which he visited for the first time, he saw -Boccaccio, with whom he had lately entered into a correspondence. -Continuing his journey, he met with a serious injury from the kick of a -horse on his knee, on the road near Bolsena, which occasioned him great -pain, and on his arrival at Rome confined him to his bed for some days. -As soon as he was able to rise, he performed his religious duties, and, -with earnest prayers and good resolutions, dedicated his future life to -the practices of virtue and piety. - -Returning from Rome, he passed through his native town of Arezzo. The -inhabitants received him with every mark of honour: they showed him the -house in which he was born, which they had never permitted to be pulled -down nor altered, and attended on him during his visit with zealous -affection. On his arrival at Padua he was afflicted by hearing of the -death of his friend and protector Giacomo da Carrara; who, but a few -days before, had been assassinated by a relative. The son of Giacomo -succeeded to him, and though the difference of age prevented the same -intimacy of friendship, the young lord loved and honoured Petrarch as -his father had done; so that he continued to reside in the city, over -which the youth ruled. Sometimes he visited Venice, to which beautiful -and singular town he was much attached. The doge, Andrea Dandolo, was -his friend; and he exerted his influence to put an end to the -destructive war carried on between Venice and Genoa, writing forcible -and eloquent letters to the doge. His endeavours were without success; -but the injuries which the republics mutually inflicted and received -might make them afterwards repent that they had not listened to the -voice of the peace-maker. - -Nor was the poet's heart wholly closed against the feelings of love; nor -could the image of the dead Laura possess all the empire which had been -hers, cold and reserved as she was, during her life. His sonnets give -evidence that passion had spread fresh nets to ensnare him, when the new -object of his admiration died, and death quenched and scattered once -again the fire which he was unable to resist.[54] Again, he could think -only of Laura; and, on the third anniversary of her death, exclaimed, -"How sweet it had been to die three years ago!" -[Sidenote: 1351. -Ætat. -47.] -It was on this anniversary that Boccaccio arrived at Padua, bringing the -decree of the Florentine republic, which reinstated him in his paternal -inheritance, together with letters inviting him to accept of a -professor's chair in their new university. - -Such an employment scarcely suited one, who, for the sake of freedom, -had declined the highest honours of the catholic church. Petrarch -testified great gratitude for the restitution of his property, but -passed over their offered professorship in silence. Instead of -repairing, as he had been invited, to Florence, he set out to revisit -Avignon and Vaucluse. "I had resolved," he writes, "to return here no -more; but my desires overcame my resolution, and, in justification of my -inconstancy, I have nothing to allege but the necessity I felt for -solitude. In my own country I am too well known, too much courted, too -greatly praised. I am sick of adulation; and that place becomes dear to -me, where I can live to myself alone, abstracted from the crowd, -unannoyed by the voice of fame. Habit, which is a second nature, has -rendered Vaucluse my true country." His son accompanied him on this -occasion. The boy was now fourteen years of age: he was quiet and -docile; but invincibly repugnant to learning, to the ne slight -mortification of his father, who vainly tried, by reprehension, -raillery, and sarcasm, to awaken emulation in his mind. - -When Petrarch arrived at Avignon, Clement VI, was very ill, and expected -to die. He asked the poet's opinion concerning his disorder; and -Petrarch wrote him a letter to give him his advice with regard to the -choice of a physician, entreating him to adhere to one, as affording a -better prospect, where all was chance, of having his malady understood. -The learned body of medical men was highly offended by this letter: they -attacked the writer with acrimony; and Petrarch replied in a style of -vituperation, little accordant with his usual mild manner. He was highly -esteemed in the papal court, and consulted by the four cardinals, -deputed to reform the government of Rome; and was again solicited to -accept the place of apostolic secretary, which he again refused. "I am -content," he said, in reply to his friend the cardinal Talleirand: "I -desire nothing more. My health is good; labour renders me cheerful; I -have every kind of book; and I have friends, whom I consider the most -precious blessing of life, if they do not seek to deprive me of my -liberty." - -This letter was written from Vaucluse, Petrarch's heart had opened to a -thousand sad and tender emotions, when he returned to the valley which -had so frequently heard his laments: his sonnets on his return to -Provence breathe the softest spirit of sadness and devoted love. He -gladly took refuge in his former home from the vices and turbulence of -Avignon. He renewed the wandering lonely life he had lived twelve years -before. The old peasant still lived with his aged wife; and the poet -amused himself with improvements in his garden, which an inundation of -the Sorgue overwhelmed and destroyed. - -On the death of Clement VI. he was succeeded by Innocent VI. He was an -ignorant man; and, from Petrarch's perpetual study of Virgil (who was -reputed to be an adept in the art magic), he fancied that the poet was a -magician also. -[Sidenote: 1352. -Ætat. -48.] -Petrarch was now most anxious to return to Italy, yet still lingered at -Vaucluse. He made an excursion to visit the Carthusian convent, where -his brother Gerard had taken the vows. Gerard had acted an admirable and -heroic part during the visitation of the plague, and survived the -dangers to which he fearlessly exposed himself. Petrarch was received in -his monastery with respect and affection; and, in compliance with the -request of the monks, wrote his treatise "On Solitary Life." - -Winter advanced, and he was most anxious to cross the Alps. He visited -his old friend, the bishop of Cavaillon, at Cabrières, and was entreated -by him to remain "one day more." Petrarch consented with reluctance; and -on that very night such storms came on, as impeded his journey for -several weeks. -[Sidenote: 1353. -Ætat. -49.] -At length he crossed the Alps, and arrived at Milan, on his way -southward, not having determined in his own mind in what town he should -fix his residence, wavering between Parma, Padua, Verona, and Venice. -While in this state of indecision, the hospitable reception and earnest -invitation of Giovanni Visconti, lord and bishop of Milan, induced him -to remain in that city. - -Louis of Baviere, emperor of Germany, had been deposed by pope John -XXII., and each succeeding pontiff confirmed the interdict. Clement VI. -raised Charles, the son of John of Luxembourg, king of Bohemia, to the -imperial throne, imposing on him, at the same time, rigorous and -disgraceful conditions with regard to his rights over Italy, forcing him -into an engagement never to pass a single night at Rome, but enter it -merely for the ceremony of his coronation. Charles and his father had -visited Avignon in the year 1346, to arrange the stipulations.[55] Some -time after, Petrarch wrote a long and eloquent letter to the emperor, -imploring him to enter Italy, and to deliver it from the disasters that -oppressed it. It is singular that two such lovers of their country, as -Dante and Petrarch, should both have invited German emperors to take -possession of it: but the emperor was then the representative of the -sovereigns of the Western empire, and they believed that, crowned and -reigning at Rome, that city would again become the capital of the world, -and Germany sink into a mere province. For though Petrarch earnestly -implores the emperor to enter Italy, various imprecations against the -Germans are scattered through his poems. - -[Sidenote: 1354. -Ætat. -50.] - -Charles did not answer the poet's letter immediately, but he entertained -a profound admiration for him; and when he entered Italy, being at -Mantua, he sent one of his esquires to Milan, to invite Petrarch to come -to him. The poet immediately obeyed, though frost and snow rendered his -journey slow and difficult. The emperor received him with the greatest -kindness and distinction. Petrarch used the utmost freedom of speech in -his exhortations to the emperor to deliver Italy. He made him a present -of a collection of antique medals, among which was an admirable one of -Augustus, saying to him, "These heroes ought to serve you as examples. -The medals are dear to me: I would not part with them to any one but -you. I know the lives and acts of the great men whom they represent: -this knowledge is not enough for you; you ought to imitate them." - -Petrarch's admonitions were vain. After a progress through Italy, and -the ceremony of his coronation at Rome; after having made a mere traffic -of his power and prerogatives, Charles hastened to repass the Alps, and -returned to Germany, as a contemporary historian observes "with a full -purse, but shorn of honour." - -After the death of the bishop-lord Giovanni Visconti, Petrarch continued -to reside at Milan under the protection of his nephew Galeazzo: he was -sent by him at one time to Venice to negotiate a peace, and on another -to Prague, on an embassy to the emperor Charles. -[Sidenote: 1355. -Ætat. -51.] -Afterwards he was sent to Paris to congratulate king John on his return -from his imprisonment in England: he was shocked, in travelling through -France, to find that it had been laid waste by fire and sword. -[Sidenote: 1360. -Ætat. -56.] -The invasion of the English had reduced the whole land to a frightful -state of solitude; the fields were desolate, and no house was left -standing, except such as were fortified. Paris presented a yet more -painful spectacle; grass grew in the deserted streets; the sounds of -gaiety and the silence of learning were exchanged for the tumult of -soldiery and the fabrication of arms. Petrarch was well received, -especially by the dauphin, Charles, who cultivated letters and loved -literary men. Here, as in every other court he visited, the poet was -solicited to remain; but he found the barbarism of Paris little -congenial to his habits, and he hastened back to Italy. - -When not employed on public affairs, Petrarch lived a life of peace and -retirement at Milan. In the summer, he inhabited a country-house three -miles from the city, near the Garignano, to which he gave the name of -Linterno: when in the city, he dwelt in a sequestered quarter near the -church of St. Ambrose. "My life," he says in a letter to the friend of -his childhood, Guido Settimo, "has been uniform ever since age tamed the -fervour of youth, and extinguished that fatal passion which so long -tormented me; and though I often change place, my mode of spending my -time is the same in all. Remember my former occupations, and you will -know what my present ones are. It seems to me that you ought not only to -know my acts, but even my dreams." - -"Like a weary traveller, I quicken my steps as I proceed. I read and -write day and night, one occupation relieving another. This is all my -amusement and employment: my eyes are worn out with readings my fingers -weary with holding the pen. My health is so good and robust that I -scarcely feel the advance of years. My feelings are as warm as in my -youth, but I control their vivacity, so that my repose is seldom -disturbed by them. One thing only is the source of disquietude: I am -esteemed more than I deserve, so that a vast concourse of people come to -see me. Not only am I honoured and loved by the prince of this city and -his court, but the whole population pays me respect: yet, living in a -distant quarter of the city, the visits I receive are infrequent, and I -am often left in solitude. I am unchanged in my habits as to sleep and -food. I remain in bed only to sleep, for slumber appears to me to -resemble death, and my bed the grave, which renders it hateful. The -moment I awake I hurry to my library. Solitude and quiet are dear to me; -yet I appear talkative to my friends, and make up for the silence of a -year by the conversation of a day. My income is increased, I confess, -but my expenditure increases with it. You know me, and that I am never -richer nor poorer: the more I have, the less I desire, and abundance -renders me moderate: gold passes through my fingers, but never sticks to -them." - -The literary work on which his busy leisure was employed, was "De -Remediis utriusque Fortunæ," which he dedicated to Azzo di Coreggio. -Azzo, who had formerly protected him, had been driven into exile, and, -alternately a prisoner and an outcast, was reduced to a state of the -heaviest adversity. Petrarch never ceased to treat him with respect; and -for his comfort and consolation composed this treatise, of how to bring -a remedy to the evils consequent on both prosperous and adverse fortune. - -Honoured by all men, beloved by his friends, with whom he kept up a -constant and affectionate correspondence, courted by monarchs, and -refusing the offers made him of the highest preferment in the church, -Petrarch spent his latter years in peace and independence. His chief -source of care was derived from his son. The youth was at first modest -and docile, but his disinclination to literature was so great, that he -abhorred the very sight of books. As he grew older he became rebellious, -and a separation ensued between him and his father, soon made up again -on the submission of the young man and his promises of amendment. The -poet's tranquillity was at last broken in upon by the wars of the -Visconti, and the plague, which again ravaged Italy. It had spared Milan -by a singular exemption in the year 1348, but during its second -visitation it was more fatal to this city than to any other. Petrarch -had to mourn the loss of many friends; and his son, who died at this -time, was probably one of its victims. Petrarch records his death in his -Virgil, in these words:--"He who was born for my trouble and sorrow, who -while he lived was the cause of heavy care, and who dying, inflicted on -me a painful wound, having enjoyed but few happy days in the course of -his life, died A. D. 1361, at the age of twenty-five."[56] - -[Sidenote: 1361. -Ætat. -57.] - -These combined causes induced Petrarch to take up his abode at Padua, of -whose cathedral he was a canon. During the remainder of his life he -usually spent the period of Lent there, and the summer at Pavia; which, -belonging to Galeazzo Visconti, he visited as his guest. A great portion -of his time also was passed at Venice: he had made the republic a -present of his library, and a palace was decreed to him for its -reception, in which he often resided. Andrea Dando was dead; his heart -had been broken by the reverses which the republic suffered in its -struggle with Genoa. Marino Faliero, who succeeded to him, had already -met his fate; but the new doge, Lorenzo Celsi, was Petrarch's warm -friend. - -During this year he gave his daughter Francesca, who was scarcely twenty -years of age, in marriage to Francesco Brossano, a Milanese gentleman. -She was gentle and modest, attached to her duties, and averse to the -pleasures of general society: in person she resembled her father to a -singular degree. Her husband had a pleasing exterior; his physiognomy -was remarkably placid, his conversation was unassuming, and his manners -mild and obliging. Petrarch was much attached to his son-in-law: the new -married pair inhabited his house at Venice, and the domestic union was -never disturbed to the end of his life. - -One of his principal friends at this period was Boccaccio. Boccaccio, in -the earnestness of his admiration and the singleness of his heart, sent -him a copy of Dante, transcribed by his own hand, with a letter inviting -him to study a poet whose works he neglected and depreciated. Petrarch, -in answer, endeavoured to exculpate himself from the charge of envying -or despising the father of Italian poetry. But his very excuses betray -a latent feeling of irritation; and he asks, how he could be supposed to -envy a man whose highest flights were in the vulgar tongue, while such -of his own poems as were composed in that language he regarded as mere -pastime. The poetry of Dante and Petrarch is essentially different. -There is more refinement in Petrarch, and more elegance of -versification, but scarcely more grace of expression. The force, beauty, -and truth, with which Dante describes the objects of nature, and the -sympathetic feeling that vivifies his touches of human passion, is of a -different style from the outpouring of sentiment, and earnest dwelling -on the writer's own emotions, which form the soul of Petrarch's verses. -The characters of the poets were also in contrast.[57] Dante was a -proud, high-spirited, unyielding man: his haughty soul bent itself to -God and the sense of virtue only; he loved deeply, but it was as a poet -and a boy; and his after-life, spent in adversity, is tinged only with -sombre colours. He possessed the essentials of a hero. Petrarch was -amiable and conciliating: he was incapable of venality or baseness; on -the contrary, his disposition was frank, independent, and generous; but -he was vain even to weakness; and there was a touch of almost feminine -softness in his nature, which was even accompanied by physical timidity -of temper. His ardent affections made him, to a degree, fear his -friends; he was versatile rather than vigorous in his conceptions; and -it was easier for him to plan new works, than to execute one begun, and -to persevere to the end. - -He wrote for the learned in Latin; he was averse to communicate with the -ignorant in Italian verse, yet he never made Laura the subject of poetry -except in his native tongue. Even to the last he wrote of her; and one -of his latest productions, chiefly in her honour, were the "Triumphs." -One of these, "The Triumph of Death," is among the most perfect and -beautiful of his productions. His description of Laura's death; the -assemblage of her friends who came to witness her last moments, and -asked what would become of them when she was gone; her own calmness and -resignation; her life fading as a flame that consumes itself away, not -that is violently extinguished; her countenance fair, not pale; her -attitude, reposing like one fatigued, a sweet sleep closing her -beautiful eyes; all is told with touching simplicity and grace. The -second part relates the imagined visit of her spirit to the pillow of -her bereaved lover on the night of her death. She approached him, and, -sighing, gave him her hand: delight sprung up in his heart at taking the -desired hand in his. "Recognise her," she said, "who abstracted you from -the beaten path when your young heart first opened itself to her." Then, -with a thoughtful and composed mien, she sat, and made him sit on a bank -shaded by a laurel and a beech. "How should I fail to know my sweet -deity!" replied the poet, weeping, and doubtful whether he spoke to one -alive or dead. She comforted and exhorted him to give up those mundane -thoughts which made death a pain. "To the good," she said, "death is a -delivery from a dark prison. I had approached near the last moment; the -flesh was weak, but my spirit ready, when I heard a low sad voice -saying, 'O miserable is he who counts the days; and one appears to -endure a thousand years--and who lives in vain--who wanders over earth -and sea, thinking only of her--speaking only of her!' Then," continues -Laura, "I turned my languid eyes, and saw the spirit who had impelled me -and checked you; I recognised her aspect; for in my younger days, when I -was dearest to you, she made life bitter, and death, which is seldom -pleasant to mortals, sweet; so that at that sad moment I was happy, -except for the compassion I felt for you."--"Ah! lady," said the poet, -"tell me, I beseech you, did love never inspire you with a wish to pity -my sufferings, without detracting from your own virtuous resolves? For -your sweet anger and gentle indignation, and the soft peace written in -your eyes, held my soul in doubt for many years." A smile brightened the -lady's countenance as she hastily replied, "My heart never was, nor can -be, divided from yours; but I tempered your fire with my coldness, for -there was no other way of saving our young names from slander,--nor is a -mother less kind because she is severe. Sometimes I said, 'He rather -burns than loves, and I must watch;' but she watches ill who fears or -desires. You saw my outward mien, but did not discern the inward -thought. Often anger was painted on my countenance, while love warmed my -heart;--but reason was never in me conquered by feeling. Then, when I -saw you subdued by grief, I turned my eyes tenderly on you, and saved -your life, and our honour. These were my arts, my deceits, my kind or -disdainful treatment; and thus, either sad or gay, I have led you to the -end, and rejoice, though weary."--"Lady," replied the poet, "this were -reward for all my devotion, could I believe you."--"Never will I say -whether you pleased my eyes in life," answered his visitant; "but the -chains which your heart wore pleased me, as well as the name which, far -and near, you have conferred on me. Your love needed moderation only; -our mutual affection might be equal; but you displayed yours, I -concealed mine. You were hoarse with demanding pity, while I continued -silent,--for shame or fear made much suffering appear slight in my eyes. -Grief is not decreased by silence, nor is it augmented by complaints; -yet every veil was riven "when alone I listened to you singing, 'Dir -più non osa il nostro amore.' My heart was with you, while my eyes were -bent to earth. But you do not perceive," she continued, "how the hours -fly, and that dawn is, from her golden bed, bringing back day to -mortals. We must part--alas! If you would say more, speak briefly."--"I -would know, lady," said the poet, "whether I shall soon follow you, or -tarry long behind." She, already moving away, replied, "In my belief, -you will remain on earth without me many years." - -Thus fondly, in age, and after the many years which Laura had prophesied -had gone over his head, Petrarch dwelt on the slight variations and -events that checkered the history of his love. It may be remarked, also, -that he grew to hold in slight esteem his Latin poetry; he could never -be prevailed upon to communicate his "Africa," and begged that after his -death it might be destroyed. - -To the last he interested himself deeply in the political state of his -country. He exceedingly exulted when, on the death of Innocent VI., pope -Urban V. removed his court to Rome. At the same time that he refused the -reiterated offer of the place of apostolic secretary, he asked his -friends to solicit church-preferment for him--he cared not what, so that -it did not demand the sacrifice of his liberty, nor include the -responsibility attendant on the care of souls. It would seem that his -income had become diminished at this time, for he often said that it was -not in old age that he should seek to increase his means; doubtless his -expenses increased on his daughter's account, and he had given up -several of his canonicates to his friends, lie was a generous man, and -had many dependents always about him; so that it is no wonder that he -wished not to find his capacity of benefiting others inconveniently -straitened. - -[Sidenote: 1363. -Ætat. -59.] - -Boccaccio became warmly attached to Petrarch; at one time he spent the -three summer months of June, July, and August, with him at Venice, in -company with a Greek named Leonzio Pilato--a singular man, of a sombre, -acid, and irritable disposition, but valuable to the friends as an -expounder of the Greek language. Pilato left them to return to -Constantinople; but his restless gloomy spirit quickly prompted him to -wish to revisit Italy. He wrote Petrarch a letter, "as long and dirty," -says the poet, as his own hair and beard. "This Greek," he continues, in -a letter to Boccaccio, "would be useful to us in our studies, were he -not an absolute savage; but I will never invite him here again. Let him -go, if he will, with his mantle and ferocious manners, and inhabit the -labyrinth of Crete, in which he has already spent many years." -[Sidenote: 1365. -Ætat. -61.] -This severity was tempered afterwards, when he heard of the death of -Pilato, who was struck by lightning during a storm on board ship, while -returning by sea to Italy. "This unhappy man," writes Petrarch, "died as -he lived, miserably. I do not think he ever enjoyed a tranquil hour: I -cannot imagine how the spirit of poetry contrived to enter his -tempestuous soul." - -[Sidenote: 1367. -Ætat. -63.] - -When Urban V. arrived at Rome, Petrarch wrote him a long letter, -expressive of the transport he felt on this auspicious event. He praised -his courage in having vanquished every obstacle; adding, "Permit me to -praise you; I shall not be suspected of flattery, for I ask nothing -except your benediction." The pope replied to this letter by an eulogium -on its eloquence; declaring, at the same time, that he had the greatest -desire to see and be of service to him. - -But old age had advanced on Petrarch. He had for several years suffered, -each autumn, the attacks of a tertian fever, probably the effect of the -climate of Lombardy, where that malady is prevalent; and this tended -rapidly to diminish his strength. -[Sidenote: 1369. -Ætat. -65.] -When Urban V. wrote to him with his own hand to reproach him for not -having come to Rome, and urging his instant journey, his letter found -Petrarch at Padua, recovering slowly from an attack of this kind. He was -unable to mount a horse, and was obliged to defer obeying the mandate. -Somewhat recovered during the following winter, he prepared for his -journey, making his will, which he wrote with his own hand. -[Sidenote: April -4. -1370. -Ætat. -66.] -He then set out, but got no further than Ferrara; he there fell into a -sort of swoon, in which he continued for thirty hours without giving any -sign of life. The most violent remedies were administered, and he felt -them no more than a marble statue. The report went abroad that he was -dead, and the city was filled with mourning and lamentation. As soon as -he was somewhat recovered, he would have proceeded on his journey, -notwithstanding the representations of the physicians, who declared that -he would not arrive at Rome alive: but he was too weak to get on -horseback; so he was carried back to Padua in a gondola, and was -received, on his unexpected arrival, with the liveliest demonstrations -of joy, by Francesco da Carrara, the lord of the town, and by its -inhabitants. - -For the sake of tranquillity, and to recover his health, he sought a -house in the country, and established himself at Arquà, a village -situated north of Padua, among the Euganean hills, not far from the -ancient and picturesque town of Este. The country around, presenting the -vast plains of Lombardy in prospect, and the dells and acclivities of -the hills in the immediate vicinity, is charming beyond description. -There is a luxuriance of vegetation, a richness of produce, which -belongs to Italy, while the climate affords a perpetual spring. Petrarch -built a small but agreeable house at the end of the village, surrounded -by vineyards and gardens. - -He busied himself in this retreat by finishing a work begun three years -before, which he had better have left wholly undone. It was founded on a -curious incident, of which he has preserved the knowledge, and which -otherwise would have sunk into oblivion. There were a set of young men -at Venice, disciples of Aristotle, or rather of his Arabian translator, -Averroes, who set up his philosophy as the law of the world, who -despised the Christian religion, and turned the apostles and fathers of -the church into ridicule: there was an open war of opinion between these -men and the pious Petrarch. Four among them, in the presumption and -vivacity of youth, instituted a kind of mock tribunal, at which they -tried the merits of their amiable and learned countryman; and pronounced -the sentence, that "Petrarch was a good sort of a man, but exceedingly -ignorant." He relates this incident in his treatise, "On my own -Ignorance and that of others," which he commences by pretending to be -satisfied with the decision. "Be it so," he says, "I am content; let my -judges be wise, while I am virtuous!" and then he goes on to prove the -fallacy of their judgment by a great display of erudition. - -[Sidenote: May -7. -1371. -Ætat. -67.] - -He continued to get weaker, and his illnesses were violent, though -transient. On one occasion he was attacked by a fever, and the physician -sent to him by Francesco da Carrara, declared that he could not survive -the night. The next morning he was found, apparently well, risen from -his bed and occupied by his books. "This," he says, "has happened to me -ten times in the course of ten years." The vital powers were thus -exhausted, and it was not likely that he could live to extreme age. - -[Sidenote: Padua, -Jan. -5. -1372. -Ætat. -68.] - -"You ask me how I am," he writes to a friend: "I am tranquil, and -liberated from the passions of youth. I enjoyed health for a long -time--during the last two years I am grown infirm. My life has been -declared to be in imminent danger, yet I am still alive. I am at present -at Padua, fulfilling my duties as canon. I have quitted Venice, and -rejoice to have done so, on account of the war between the republic and -the lord of this city. In Venice I should have been suspected; here I am -beloved. I pass a great part of my time in the country, which I always -prefer to town. I read, I write, I think. I neither hate nor envy any -man. During the early season of youth, I despised every one except -myself--in maturer years I despised myself only--in my old age I despise -almost all--and myself more than any. I fear only those whom I love, and -my desires are limited to the ending my life well. I try to avoid my -numerous visiters, and have a small agreeable house among the Euganean -hills, where I hope to pass the rest of my days in peace--with the -absent or the dead, perpetually in my thoughts. I have been invited by -the pope, the emperor, and the king of France, who have often and -earnestly solicited me to take up my abode at their several courts; but -I have constantly refused, preferring my liberty before all things." - -It is a singular circumstance that one of the last acts of Petrarch was, -to read the "Decameron." Notwithstanding his intimate friendship with -the author during twenty years, Boccaccio's modesty prevented his -speaking of the work, and it fell into Petrarch's hands by chance. -[Sidenote: June -8. -1374. -Ætat. -70.] -"I have not had time," he writes to his friend, "to read the whole, so -that I am not a fair judge; but it has pleased me exceedingly. Its great -freedom is sufficiently excused by the age at which you wrote it, the -lightness of the subject, and of the readers for whom it was destined. -With many gay and laughable things, are mingled many that are serious -and pious. I have read principally at the beginning and end. Your -description of the state of our country during the plague, appears to me -very true and very pathetic. The tale at the conclusion made so lively -an impression on me that I committed it to memory, that I might -sometimes relate it to my friends." - -This is the story of Griselda. Petrarch translated it into Latin for the -sake of those who did not understand Italian, and often read it and had -it read to him. He relates, that frequently the friend who read it broke -off, interrupted by tears. Among others to whom he communicated this -favourite tale was our English poet Chaucer, who in his prologue to the -story of Griselda says that he - - -"Learned it at Padowe of a worthy clerke, -Francis Petrarch." - - -Chaucer had been sent ambassador to Genoa just at this time. - -The letter to Boccaccio accompanying the Latin translation of the story -was probably the last that Petrarch ever wrote. The life of this great -and good man had nearly arrived at its conclusion. On the morning of the -19th of July, 1374, he was found by his attendants in his library, his -head resting on a book. As he often passed whole hours and even days in -this attitude, it at first excited no peculiar attention; but the -immovability of his posture at length grew alarming, and on inspection -it was found that he was no more. - -The intelligence of his death spread through Arquà, the Euganean hills, -and Padua, and occasioned general consternation: people flocked from far -and near to attend his funeral. Francesco da Carrara, with all the -nobility of the city of Padua, was present. The bishop, with the chapter -and clergy, performed the ceremony. The funeral oration was pronounced -by Bonaventura da Peraga, of the order of the hermits of St. Augustin. -The body was first interred in a chapel of the church at Arquà, -dedicated to the Virgin, which Petrarch had himself built. A short time -after, his son-in-law, Francesco Brossano, erected a marble monument -opposite the church, and caused the body to be transferred to it; -inscribing on the tomb four bad Latin verses, which it is said that -Petrarch himself composed, ordering that no epitaph of greater -pretension should record his death. - -Petrarch directed in his will that none should weep his death. "Tears," -he says, "are useless to the dead, and they injure the living:" he -requested only that alms should be given to the poor, that they might -pray for his soul. He continues, "Let them do what they will with my -body; it imports nothing to me." He left Francesco Brossano his heir, -and begs him, as his beloved son, to divide the money he should find -into two parts; to keep one himself, and to give the other to the person -he has mentioned to him. This is said to mean his daughter. He left -several legacies to hospitals and religious houses. He bequeathed his -good lute to Thomas Barbari, wherewith to sing the praises of God; and -to Boccaccio he left fifty golden florins, to buy a robe lined with fur, -for his winter studies; apologising at the same time for leaving so -trifling a sum to so great a man. - -This is a brief and imperfect sketch of Petrarch's life--drawn from the -ample materials which his Latin prose works afford, and the careful -researches of various biographers, particularly of the Abbé de Sâde, -who ascertained, by infinite labour and perseverance, several doubtful -facts concerning the persons with whom the poet's life is chiefly -connected. Much more might be said of one whose history is pregnant with -profound and various interest. It will be enough if these pages contain -a faithful portrait, and impress the reader with a just sense, of his -honest worth, his admirable genius, his high-toned feelings, and the -many virtues that adorned his long career. - - -[Footnote 27: Epist. ad Posterit.] - -[Footnote 28: Epist. ad Posterit.] - -[Footnote 29: Canzone IV.] - -[Footnote 30: Secretum Francaci Petrarchæ.] - -[Footnote 31: Abbé de Sâde.] - -[Footnote 32: Canzone IV. In this, one of the most beautiful of his -canzoni, Petrarch narrates the early story of his love. In it occur the -following lines:-- - -"I' seguii tanto avanti il mio desire, -Ch' un dì cacciando siccom' io solea, -Mi mossi; e quella fera bella e cruda -In una fonte ignuda -Si stava, quanto 'l Sol più forte ardea. -Io, perchè d' altra vista non m' appago, -Stetti a mirarla: ond' ella ebbe vergogna, -E per farne vendetta, o per celarse, -L' acqua nel viso con le mane mi sparse, -Vero dirò, forse e' parrà menzogna: -Ch' i, sentii trarmi della propria immago; -Ed un cervo solitario, e vago, -Di selva in selva ratto mi transformo; -Ed ancor de' miei can' fuggo lo stormo." - -The abbé de Sâde, commenting on this poem with true French dryness of -fancy, supposes that the scene actually occurred, and would point out -the very spot in the environs of Avignon; not perceiving that the poet, -in an exquisite allegory, founded on the story of Acteon, describes the -wanderings of his mind, and the reveries in which he indulged concerning -her he loved; and that both lady and fountain are the creations of his -imagination, which so duped and absorbed him; that passion changed him -to a solitary being, and his thoughts became the pursuers that -perpetually followed and tormented him.] - -[Footnote 33: I adopt Petrarch's own words, here and elsewhere, -translated from the "Secretum Francisci Petrarchæ."] - -[Footnote 34: Secretum Francisci Petrarchæ.] - -[Footnote 35: Epist. ad Posterit.] - -[Footnote 36: Ibid.] - -[Footnote 37: Epist. ad Posterit.] - -[Footnote 38: Epist. Fam.] - -[Footnote 39: Sonnets 53, 54. The Abbé de Sâde notices these sonnets. -They prove that the order of time is not preserved in the arrangement of -his sonnets; as his letters prove that this journey through the forest -of Ardennes preceded many events recorded in poems which are represented -as if of an earlier date.] - -[Footnote 40: Epist. Fam.] - -[Footnote 41: The envoy shows that this canzone was written in Italy, -probably when Petrarch was residing at Parma, a few years after. Yet -being able to quote only a poem of which there exists a worthy -translation, I could not refrain from extracting it; and though alluding -to another country, and finished there, it is almost impossible not to -believe that it was conceived at Vaucluse, and that it breathes the -spirit that filled him in that solitude.] - -[Footnote 42: This was not a painting, but a small marble medallion. It -has been, since the fourteenth century, in possession of the Peruzzi -family at Florence. Behind the portrait of Laura are four Italian -verses, not inserted in any editions of Petrarch:-- - -"Splendida luce cui chiaro se vede -Quel bel che può mostrar nel mondo amore, -O vero exemplo del sopran valore -E d'ogni meraviglia intiera fede." - -There is a medallion also of Petrarch, similar in form to the other, -behind which is inscribed-- - -"Simion de Senis me fecit, -Sub Anno Domini MCCCXLIII." - -The authenticity of these bas-reliefs is acknowledged in Italy; a -pamphlet, giving an account of them, was published in Paris, 1821, -written by one of the Peruzzi family.] - -[Footnote 43: Epist. ad Posterit.] - -[Footnote 44: Ibid.] - -[Footnote 45: Epist. ad Posterit.] - -[Footnote 46: Abbé de Sâde.] - -[Footnote 47: Abbé de Sâde.] - -[Footnote 48: Abbé de Sâde.] - -[Footnote 49: Secretimi Francisci Petrarchæ.] - -[Footnote 50: Petrarch uses church time, in which the ninth hour -answers to six A. M.] - -[Footnote 51: The perfect accord between this record in Petrarch's -handwriting, and the inscription on the coffin of Laura de Sâde, -discovered in the church of the Minor Friars at Avignon, puts the -identity of the lady beyond all doubt. This seems to have taken place -for the very purpose of informing posterity of who she was whom the poet -had celebrated, yet whose actual name he never mentioned.] - -[Footnote 52: "The Virgil to which this note is appended is preserved in -the Ambrosian library at Milan. In 1795, a part of the leaf on which it -was written became detached from the cover, and the librarians perceived -other writing beneath. Curiosity engaged them to take off the entire -leaf, in which process, the parchment being tightly glued, the writing, -nearly effaced, remained on the wood of the binding. They found beneath -a note in the handwriting of Petrarch, containing the dates of the loss -he had once suffered of the book itself, and its restitution. There is, -in addition, a record of the dates of the death of various of his -friends, mingled with exclamations of regret and sorrow, and complaints -of the increasing solitude to which he finds himself reduced through -these reiterated bereavements."--_Ginguene._] - -[Footnote 53: Tiraboschi.] - -[Footnote 54: "Morte m'ha liberato un'altra volta, -E rotto 'l nodo, e'l foco ha spento, e sparso, -Contra la qual non vai forza nè 'ngegno." - -_Part II, Sonnet III._] - -[Footnote 55: The Abbé de Sâde attributes to this prince the kiss -bestowed on Laura at a ball, by one of royal blood. The prince with his -hand beckoned aside every other elder or more noble lady, and kissed her -on her brow and eyelids. Petrarch, who was present, was filled at once -with envy and triumph (Sonnet CCI.). If her beauty, and not the -celebrity conferred on her by the poet, was the occasion of this -compliment, it is difficult not to believe that it was bestowed before -she had lost the bloom of youth, especially as it is mentioned that the -prince put aside all ladies older than herself.] - -[Footnote 56: Ugo Foscolo.] - -[Footnote 57: Essays on Petrarch, by Ugo Foscolo.] - - - - -BOCCACCIO - - -The family of Giovanni Boccaccio derived itself originally from the -Ardovini and Bertaldi, of the castle of Certaldo, a fortress of Val -d'Elsa, ten miles distant from Florence. His progenitors migrated to -that town, and became citizens of the republic. His father's name was -Boccaccio di Chellino, derived from that of his father Michele, -diminished to Michellino or Chellino; such, as in the Highlands of -Scotland and other places in the infancy of society, was the mode by -which the Italians formed their names; with the exception of a few, who -retained the appellation of some illustrious ancestor. The son of -Boccaccio was named Giovanni, and he always designated himself at full -length, as Giovanni di Boccaccio da Certaldo. - -Little is known of the early life of Boccaccio, except the slender and -vague details which he has interspersed in his works. His father was a -merchant; he was a man in good repute, and had filled several offices -under the Florentine government. His commercial speculations caused him -to make frequent journeys, and he lived at one time for some years at -Paris. Boccaccio was most probably born in that city. His mother was a -French girl of highly respectable family, though not noble. It has been -disputed whether in the sequel Boccaccio di Chellino married her; but it -seems likely that she died soon after the birth of her son, and never -became his wife. It is certain that Giovanni was illegitimate; as he was -obliged to obtain a bull to legitimise himself, when late in life he -entered the ecclesiastical profession. - -[Sidenote: 1313.] - -Boccaccio was born in the year 1313, and at the age of seven accompanied -his father to Florence. He tells us of himself that he gave early tokens -of his future inventive and romantic talents. When seven years old a -desire of inventing fictions seized him, and he even then fabricated -tales, childish and inartificial it is true, though he had never heard -any stories or fables, nor frequented the society of literary men; and -though he was scarcely acquainted with the first elements of -letters.[58] His father had, however, plans with regard to him wholly at -variance with these tastes. -[Sidenote: 1323. -Ætat. -10.] -For a short time he gave him Giovanni da Strada, father of the poet -Zenobio, for an instructor in the rudiments of learning, and then placed -him under the charge of a merchant, from whom he was to learn -arithmetic, and to be initiated in other parts of knowledge appertaining -to commerce. In this way, to use his own words, he lost six valuable and -irrecoverable years. Some friends then assured his father that he was -better fitted for literature than trade, and his parent yielded so far -to these remonstrances, as to permit him to enter on the study of the -canonical law, placing him under a celebrated professor. -[Sidenote: 1329. -Ætat. -16.] -It is very uncertain in what country he resided during this time. He -travelled a good deal, and we have evidence of his visiting Ravenna, -Naples, and Paris, both while he was with his mercantile instructor, and -afterwards. It has been conjectured that at the former place he, as a -child, knew Dante, who discovered and cherished his infant talents. But -this idea rests on a very slender foundation, arising from Boccaccio -speaking of him as his guide from whom he derived all good; and -Petrarch, alluding to him in a letter to Boccaccio, as "he who was in -your youth the first leader, the first torch that led you to study." -Dante died in 1321, when Boccaccio was only eight years old; it seems -probable, therefore, that Boccaccio looked on Dante as his master and -guide from the reasons that made Dante give those names to Virgil; and -the works of the Italian poet formed the torch that lighted his -countryman in his search after knowledge. Another discussion has arisen -concerning who his master of canonical law was; it is known that he -passed much time in Paris, and was familiar with the language, manners, -and customs of the French; and as he was intimate with Dionisio -Robertis, the friend of Petrarch, it is supposed that he studied under -him.[59] It is certain, from his own words, that he was at that time at -a distance from home, and that his father, discontented with the career -he was pursuing, vexed him with reproachful letters. It would seem that -Boccaccio di Chellino was a penurious and ill-tempered man. - -The project of making him a lawyer did not succeed better than the -former one. The imaginative youth was disgusted with the hard dry study; -nor could the counsels of his preceptor, nor the continual admonitions -of his parent, nor the reproaches of his friends, induce him to pursue -his new career with any industry. -[Sidenote: 1333. -Ætat. -20.] -Displeased by the little progress he made, his father put an end to the -experiment, and bringing him back to his commercial pursuits, sent him -to Naples, ordering him there to remain; or, as it would appear, from -some allusions in his works, recalled him to his home, which was then in -that city; as at one time it is certain Boccaccio lived under the -paternal roof at Naples; and it is also known that at a later period he -continued there, while his father lived at Florence. - -Boccaccio describes himself as very happy at this time, associating on -equal terms with the young nobles, with whom he practised a system of -great reserve, fearing to have his independence infringed upon. But his -society was courted, and his disposition and manners were formed by a -familiar intercourse with the licentious but refined nobility of king -Robert's court. Yet he had better thoughts and more worthy talents -dormant in his heart, which only required a slight spark to kindle into -an inextinguishable flame. One day, by chance, he visited the tomb of -Virgil.[60] The tomb of the Mantuan poet is situated on the height of -Pausilippo: it consists of a small structure shaped, like a rude hut, -but evidently of ancient date. -[Sidenote: 1338. -Ætat. -25.] -It is overgrown with rich vegetation; the wild aloe and prickly pear -issue from its clefts, and ivy and other parasites climb up its sides -and cling thickly to its summit. A dark rock rises immediately before; -it is shut in, secluded and tranquil: but at the distance of only a few -yards, a short ascent leads to the top of the hill, where the whole of -the hay of Naples opens itself to the eye. The exceeding beauty of this -scene fills every gazer with delight; the wide-spread sea is adorned by -various islands, and by picturesque promontories, which shut in secluded -bays; the earth is varied by hills, dells, and lakes, by towering -heights and woody ravines; the sky, serenely though darkly blue, imparts -matchless hues to the elements beneath. Nature presents her most -enchanting aspect; and the voice of human genius breathing from the -silent tomb, speaks of the influence of the imagination of man, and of -the power which he possesses to communicate his ideas in all their -warmth and beauty to his fellow creatures. Such is the tomb of Virgil -now--such was it five hundred years ago, when Boccaccio's heart glowed -with new-born enthusiasm as he gazed upon it. He remained long -contemplating the spot, and calling to mind with admiration the fame of -him whose ashes reposed in the structure before him: then he began to -lament his evil fortune, which obliged him to give up his faculties to -baser pursuits. Touched suddenly and deeply by an ardent desire of -cultivating poetry, he, on his return home, cast aside all thoughts of -business, and eagerly gave himself up to the Muses. And thus, at nearly -mature age, impelled by his own wishes only, excited and led by none, -his father averse, and always vituperating literature, he, untaught by -any, applied to the cultivation of his understanding, devoting himself -to the study of such authors as he could comprehend, with the greatest -avidity and delight.[61] His genius and fervour conjoined to facilitate -his progress; and his father, become aware of the inutility of -opposition, at length consented that he should follow his own -inclinations, and gave him the necessary assistance. - -Another circumstance occurred not long after to confirm his predilection -for literature, and to exalt it in his eyes. He was present when -Petrarch was examined by Robert, king of Naples, previous to his -coronation in the Capitol. -[Sidenote: 1341. -Ætat. -28.] -King Robert was a philosopher, a physician, and an astrologer, but -hitherto he had despised poetry, being only acquainted with some -Sicilian rhymes, and a few of the compositions of the Troubadours. -Petrarch, discovering the ignorance of his royal patron, took an -opportunity, at the conclusion of his examination, to deliver an oration -in praise of poetry, setting forth its magical beauty and its beneficent -influence over the minds and manners of men; and so exalted his art, -that the king said, in Boccaccio's hearing[62], that he had never before -suspected that the foolish rind of verse enclosed matter so lofty and -sublime; and declared that now, in his old age, he would learn to -appreciate and understand it, asking Petrarch, as an honour which he -coveted, to dedicate his poem of Africa to him. From this time the lover -of Laura became the Magnus Apollo of the more youthful Boccaccio: he -named him his guide and preceptor, and became, in process of time, his -most intimate friend. - -The liberal tastes and generous patronage of king Robert drew to his -court many of the most illustrious men of the age. Boccaccio was -exceedingly desirous, from boyhood, of seeing men celebrated for -learning[63], and he cultivated a friendship with many of those who -lived at Naples. Under the Calabrian Barlaam he studied Greek. Barbato, -the chancellor of the king, Dionisio Robertis, bishop of Monopoli, Paolo -Perugini, royal librarian, Giovanni Barrili,--these were all his -particular friends; conversing with whom, he cultivated the literary -tastes to which he entirely devoted himself. - -An ardent love of poetry, and an assiduous cultivation of his -imagination, made the study of his own nature and its impulses a -principal subject of contemplation; and thus softening his heart, opened -an easy entrance to the passion of love. He became attached to a lady of -high rank at Naples, whom he has celebrated in many of his works. - -He relates the commencement of this attachment in various and -contradictory ways; on which account a celebrated Italian critic has -doubted whether the truth is contained in any of his narrations[64]; it -is more credible that they are founded on fact. The object of his -passion, as is proved by a variety of circumstances, and by his own -express declaration[65], was a natural daughter of Robert king of -Naples. To prevent the injury which would have accrued to her mother's -name, had her parentage been avowed, her royal father caused her to be -adopted by a noble of the house of Achino. She was educated with extreme -care, and married, when very young, to a Neapolitan noble. -[Sidenote: April -7. -1341. -Ætat. -28.] -They first saw each other at the church of San Lorenzo, on a day of high -festival. She was in all the bloom of youth and beauty, dressed with -splendour, and surrounded by all that rank and prosperity can impart of -brilliancy. The passion was sudden and mutual.[66] - -But it is in vain that he endeavours to engage our sympathy. In spite of -all the interest which he tries to throw over their attachment, it bears -the appearance of a mere intrigue. The lady Mary was a wife, and, in all -probability, a mother. Her lover makes her relate, in one of his -works[67], that she was married to a noble of equal age; that until she -saw Boccaccio, they were happy in each other; her husband adoring her, -and she affectionately attached to him. A passion which could disturb -such an union appears a phrensy as well as a crime. That the lovers -suffered great misery, may serve as a warning, as well as an example, of -how such attachments, from their very nature, from the separations, -suspicions, and violations of delicacy and truth entailed upon them, -must, under the most favourable auspices, be fruitful of solicitude and -wretchedness. An adherence to truth is the noblest attribute of human -nature. The perpetual infringement which results from a secret intrigue -degrades in their own eyes those who practise the falsehood. In the -details which Boccaccio has given of his passion, we perceive the -violation of the most beautiful of social ties; while deceit is -substituted for sincerity, and mystery for frankness. The lover -perceived a perpetual lie on the lips of her he loved; and, had his -attachment been of an ennobling nature, he would rather have given up -its gratification, than have sought it in the humiliation and error of -its object. - -The lady Mary was eminently beautiful. Her hair, of the palest gold, -shaded a forehead remarkable for its ample proportion; her brows were -black and delicately marked; her eyes bright and expressive; her -beautiful mouth was terminated by a small, round, and dimpled chin; her -complexion was brilliant, her person well formed and elegant. She -excelled in the dance and song, and, above all, in the vivacious, airy -spirit of conversation. Her disposition was generous and magnificent. -Boccaccio himself was handsome: his good looks were too early injured by -plumpness; but, at this time, being only twenty-eight years of age, he -was in the pride of life. His eyes were full of vivacity; his features -regular; he was peculiarly agreeable and lively in society; his manners -were polite and noble; he was proud, taking his origin from a republic -where equality of rank prevailed; but, frequenting the society of the -Neapolitan nobility, he preserved a dignified independence and courteous -reserve, which commanded respect. - -Hitherto Boccaccio had been collecting materials, by study, for future -composition; but he had written nothing. According to his own -declaration, his mind had become sluggish and debased through frivolity -and indolence, when his love for the lady Mary awoke him to -exertion[68], and incited him to pursue that career which has caused his -name to be numbered among the illustrious writers of his country. His -first work, written at the request of his fair mistress, in the early -days of their passion, was the "Filocopo." The foundation of this tale -resembles St. John's tales--those of "The Seven Wise Masters," &c., -which were adopted from Arabia, and coloured, in their details, by -descriptions of Eastern manners, with which the conquest of Granada by -the Moors, and the expeditions of the crusaders, varied the rude -chivalry of the North. A Roman noble and his wife make a pilgrimage to -Spain. The husband dies fighting against the Mahometan Felix, king of -Marmorina. His wife fell into the hands of the victor, and died at the -court of Felix, on giving birth to her daughter Biancafiore, on the very -day on which Florio, the son of Felix, was born. The children were -educated together. The parentage of Biancafiore was unknown, her parents -having died without declaring their names and descent from the Scipios -and Cæsars; but, despite her obscure origin. Florio becomes enamoured -of his lovely companion; and his father, enraged by this ill-assorted -attachment, separates them; and, after cruelly persecuting the -unfortunate girl, at last sells her to a merchant, who takes her to -Alexandria, where she is bought by a noble, who shuts her up in a tower. -Florio wanders into various countries to seek her; they go through a -variety of disasters, which end in their happy marriage; and, the birth -of Biancafiore being discovered, they are converted to the Christian -faith. The story is long drawn out and very unreadable; though -interspersed by traits of genius peculiar to Boccaccio, natural touches -of genuine feeling, and charming descriptions. Florio, during his -erratic travels in search of Biancafiore, arrives at Naples: the author -introduces him into the company of his lady and himself, under the names -of Fiammetta and Caleone. - -Having once engaged in writing, Boccaccio became very diligent: his next -work was a poem, entitled the "Teseide," or the "Thesiad." The subject -is familiar to the English reader, as the "Knight's Tale" in Chaucer, -modernised by Dryden, under the title of "Palamon and Arcite." Boccaccio -was, if not the inventor of the _ottava rima_, or octave stanza (some -Sicilian and French poets are supposed to have preceded him in the use -of it), yet the first to render it familiar to the Italians. It has been -duly appreciated by them, and used, as peculiarly adapted to narrative -poetry. The ease with which the Italian language lends itself to rhythm -and to rhyme, enabled Boccaccio to dress his thoughts in the guise of -poetry; but he was, essentially, not a poet. It were too long to enter -here into the distinction between the power of the imagination which -creates fable and character, and even produces ideal imagery, and the -peculiar attributes of poetry, which consists in a greater force and -concentration of language, and an ear for the framing poetic numbers. -The sublimity, yet delicacy, of Dante, the grace and harmony of -Petrarch, are quite unapproached by Boccaccio: nor, indeed, can he -compete with even the second and third rate of Italian poets. His style -is diffuse and incult, and altogether wanting in the higher graces of -poetic diction. Still, there is nature, pathos, and beauty in the -narration. The story of the "Thesiad," if unborrowed,--and there is no -previous trace of it,--is worthy of the author of the "Decameron:" it is -full of passion and variety. He had the merit, also, of discarding the -machinery of dreams and visions, then so much in vogue among his -countrymen, which took from their compositions all reality and truth of -feeling--giving us empty personifications, instead of fellow-creatures, -formed of flesh and blood. - -[Sidenote: 1342. -Ætat. -29.] - -Boccaccio had not long enjoyed the favour of his lady, when he was -obliged to return to Florence. His father had lost his wife and -children, and recalled his son, to be the companion of his declining -years. He separated himself from the lady Mary with infinite regret; a -feeling which she so fully shared, that he afterwards wrote a work, -entitled "La Fiammetta," in which she, as the narratress, gives the -history of their attachment, and complains bitterly of the misery they -suffered during their separation. There is less of redundancy, and more -unaffected nature in this work than in his former; and the commencement -calls up forcibly the author of the "Decameron," from the vividness and -strength of the language. In one respect, his visit to Florence, at this -time, was evidently beneficial: it familiarised him with the pure and -elegant language of Tuscany: he does not allude to it; but the barbarous -dialect of Naples must have injured his style; and we cannot doubt that -he recognised at once, and adopted, the expressive idiom of his native -town. The "Decameron" is a model of the Tuscan dialect, if such a name -can be given to a tongue differing from the Italian spoken in every -other portion of the peninsula, and infinitely superior to all in grace, -energy, and conciseness. - -He found his home, with his father, sufficiently disagreeable.[69] The -house was gloomy and silent; nor was the sound of gaiety ever heard -within its walls. His father was far advanced in years, and had grown, -if he had not always been, avaricious and discourteous, discontented and -reproachful; so that the necessity of seeing him every day, of each -evening returning to his melancholy abode, cast a shadow over -Boccaccio's life. "Ah!" he exclaims, "how happy are the independent, who -possess themselves in freedom!" To add to his dissatisfaction, Florence -was suffering under the oppression of Walter de Brienne, duke of Athens; -whom the people had, in a moment of despondency, set over themselves, -and who proved a cruel and gloomy tyrant; till, unable to endure any -longer his sanguinary despotism, the citizens rose against him, and -regained their liberty. - -Boccaccio's chief amusement was derived from his pen. He wrote the -"Ameto," a composition of mingled prose and verse, the first of a kind, -since adopted by Sannazaro and sir Philip Sidney. The "Ameto" is a story -somewhat resembling "Cymon and Iphigenia," in which he again introduces -himself and his lady, as he informs the reader, bidding those attend who -have a clear understanding, and they will find a hidden truth disclosed -in his verses. But a more agreeable change was at hand, to relieve him -from his painful position. His father married again, and he was -permitted to return to Naples. - -[Sidenote: 1344. -Ætat. -31.] - -He found great alterations in this city. King Robert was dead. His -daughter Jane succeeded to him: her dissentions with her husband -produced a violent party spirit among the courtiers, while the pursuit -of pleasure was the order of the day. A Court of Love, in imitation of -those held in Provence, was instituted, over which the lady Mary -presided. The lovers continued fondly attached to each other, though -jealousies and trifling quarrels somewhat diversified the otherwise even -course of their loves. The lady passed several months each summer at -Baiæ, amidst a society given up to amusement, and to the indulgence of -the greatest libertinism. From some unknown cause, Boccaccio did not -accompany her on these occasions, and he was tormented by a thousand -doubts, fearing that the dissolute manners of the court would corrupt -her, whom he calls a mirror of chaste love, and injure her faith towards -him. During one of these absences he wrote his poem of "Filostrato," on -the subject of Troilus and Cressida, which he dedicated as a kind of -peace-offering to his lady. He wrote also the "Amorosa Fiammetta," which -is her fancied complaint, while he was at Florence, and the "Amorosa -Visione," or Vision of Love; which is more poetic in its diction than -any of his previous works in verse, though it labours under the -disadvantage of being an acrostic; the initial letters of each verse -forming a series of sonnets and canzoni, addressed in the same initials -to "Madonna Maria." - -[Sidenote: 1345. -Ætat. -35.] - -During the period when the plague desolated the world, Boccaccio -occupied himself by writing the "Decameron," to amuse, it is said, queen -Jane and her court. He gives a somewhat different account in the -preface. He tells us in it: "From my youth until the present time, I -have been inflamed by an aspiring love for one more noble perhaps than -befitted my obscure birth; for which passion I was praised even by the -more discreet among those who knew of it, and held in high repute; and -yet it was the cause to me of much trouble and suffering,--not certainly -through the cruelty of the lady I loved, but from the pain I endured -when separated from her. During which time I enjoyed so much relief from -the agreeable conversation and kind consolations of a friend, that I -truly believe, that but for them I had died. But it has pleased him, who -decreed that all earthly things should have an end, that my attachment, -which no fear, shame, nor advice could lessen, has by course of time so -abated, that, while I still love, I am no longer the victim of -uncontrollable passion. Yet I still remember the benefits I formerly -received from those who sympathised in my pains; and I propose to -myself, as a mark of gratitude to them, to afford to others, labouring -as I once did, the same relief which was before bestowed upon me. And -who will deny that this book belongs rather to women than men. Fearfully -and with shame they conceal within their tender hearts that flame which -is fiercer when hidden; and who, besides this, are so restrained from -the enjoyment of pleasure by the will of those around them, that they -most frequently struggle with their feelings, and revolve divers -thoughts, which cannot be all gay, within the little circuit of their -chamber, which must occasion heavy grief and melancholy, if unrelieved -by conversation. All which things do not happen to men; who, if -afflicted, can frequent society--hunt, shoot, ride, and play--and have a -thousand modes of amusing themselves. And, therefore, to counterbalance -the unequal award of fortune, who gives most to bear to those who are -weakest, I intend to relate, for the amusement and refuge of gentle -ladies who love, one hundred stories, fables, parables, or histories, or -whatever you please to call them, narrated, during the course of ten -days, by seven ladies and three cavaliers, who assembled together at a -villa during the late pestilence." - -His description of the plague in Florence, in the introduction, is the -finest piece of writing that Boccaccio ever composed: it presents a -pathetic, eloquent, and vivid picture of the sufferings induced by that -remorseless malady. It is a curious fact, that there is every proof that -Boccaccio was residing at Naples during the visitation of the plague in -1348; but it required no violent effort of the imagination to paint the -disasters of his native city, as Naples itself presented a similar -tragedy: nor is there any thing in the description that stamps it as -peculiarly belonging to Florence. - -The seven young ladies of the tales meet on a Wednesday morning in the -church of Santa Maria Novella, and there agree to leave the miserable -city, and to betake themselves, with three gentlemen from among their -friends, to one of the villas in the environs, and, shutting out all -sight and memory of the frightful disasters they had witnessed, to -strive, in the enjoyment of innocent pleasures, to escape from -danger.--"Nor," the lady says, who proposed this plan, "can we be said -to abandon any one, for it is we who are abandoned; and remember, that -our innocent flight is less blamable than the guilty remaining of -others." - -The Italians have taken great pains to discover the exact spots to which -the company of the Decameron retreated. They are found not far from -Florence.[70] The father of Boccaccio possessed a small villa in the -village of Majano, and his son pleased himself by describing the -adjacent country; and in particular, the pleasant uplands and fertile -valleys of the hills around Fiesole, which are in the neighbourhood. It -is said that Villa Gherardi was the first place to which the ladies -betook themselves; and Villa Palmieri is recognised in the description -of the sumptuous abode to which they afterwards removed, to escape being -disturbed by visiters. In the exquisite description of the narrow valley -to which Eliza conducts her companions; and where they bathe; we discern -the little plain surrounded by hills; through which the Affrico flows; -when; after having divided two hills; and descended from the rocky -heights, it collects itself into a gentle stream; under the Claustro -della Doccia of Fiesole. - -The assembly being gathered together in this delightful spot; among -other modes of amusing themselves; they agree that each one should -narrate a tale every day; and during the ten days which form the -"Decameron," a hundred tales are thus related. They give some kind of -rule to their amusement; by fixing on a subject for each tale; as for -instance, on one day each person is to tell a story in which, after much -suffering, the disasters of the hero or heroine come to a happy -conclusion. In another, the tale is to end unhappily. The stories vary -from gay to pathetic, and in the last, Boccaccio is inimitable in -delicacy and tenderness of feeling. - -All the other works of Boccaccio would have fallen into oblivion, had he -not written the "Decameron:" they are scarcely read, even though bearing -his name; they are heavy and uninteresting; his poetry is not poetry; -his prose is long-winded; but the "Decameron;" bears the undoubted stamp -of genius. His language is a "well of Tuscan undefiled," whence, as from -its purest source, all future writers have drawn the rules and examples -which form the correct and elegant Italian style. It possesses, to an -extraordinary degree, the charm of eloquence. It imports little whence -he drew the groundwork of his tales; yet, as far as we know, many of -them are original, and the stories of Griselda and Cymon, of the pot of -Bazil, and the sorrows of Ghismonda, are unborrowed from any other -writer. The tenderness, the passion, the enthusiasm, the pathos, and -above all, the heartfelt nature of his best tales, raise him to the -highest rank of writers of any age or country. His defects were of the -age. Boccaccio's mind was tarnished by the profligacy of the court of -Naples. He mirrors the licentious manners of the people about him in his -"Decameron:" it were better for human nature, that neither the reality -nor the reflection had ever existed. - -The faults of the hook rendered it obnoxious, especially to the priests, -whom he, in common with all the novelists of his time, treats with -galling ridicule. Salvanorola preached against it, and so excited the -minds of his fellow citizens, that they brought all their copies of the -"Decameron," as well as of, it may be remarked, the blameless poetry of -Petrarch and Dante, into the Piazza de' Signori on the last day of the -carnival of 1497, and made a bonfire of them: on which account the -earlier editions of these books are very rare. After Salvanorola, it -continued on the list of prohibited books. This occasioned emended -editions to be published,--some of which were so altered as scarcely to -retain any thing of the original. It was after many years and with great -industry, that the "Decameron" was restored. The first entire edition -was published through the care of a society of young Florentines, who -were ashamed of the disgraceful condition to which this celebrated work -was reduced: this was published in 1527, and goes by the name of the -"Ventisettana," or twenty-seventh, and of the "Delphin." After this, -however, only mutilated editions were printed, and even now, as it still -continues a prohibited book, any perfect edition bears on the title-page -the name of some protestant town, London or Amsterdam, as the place -where it is printed. - -[Sidenote: 1350. -Ætat. -37.] - -To return to the author. During the year of the jubilee Boccaccio -returned to Florence, and the lady Mary was spoken of no more, except in -a sonnet, written many years after, on the death of Petrarch, which -alludes to her death. He addresses his lost friend as having entered -that heavenly kingdom after which he had long aspired, that he might -again see Laura, and where his beautiful Fiammetta sat with her before -God. Whether the lady died, therefore, before or after his removal to -Florence cannot be told; we have his own authority for knowing, that by -this time his ardent passion was subdued into calm affection. His father -as well as his mother-in-law was dead, and they had left a young son -Jacopo, to whom Boccaccio became guardian. His pecuniary resources had -been derived through his father from Florence, and it became necessary -to take his place in that city. From this time he continued to reside in -Tuscany, and to fulfil the duties of a citizen. One of the occurrences -that marked his return, was a visit from Petrarch, who passed through -Florence on his return from his pilgrimage to Rome, on occasion of the -jubilee. They were already in correspondence; and Boccaccio had seen the -poet in his glory nine years before at Naples. But now they met for the -first time as friends, and that intimacy commenced which lasted till the -end of their lives. - -Boccaccio, on returning to his native city, entered on a busier scene of -life from that which he led among the Neapolitan nobles. He was sent -almost immediately on various embassies to the Ordelaffi, to Malalesta, -and to Polenta, lords of various towns of Romagna, for the purpose of -engaging them in a league against the Visconti, who, being lords of the -powerful city of Milan, and having lately acquired the signorship of -Bologna, were desirous of extending their princely dominions beyond the -Apennines. - -He had soon after the happiness of being the bearer to Petrarch of the -decree of the republic of Florence, which restored his patrimony, and -the letters which invited him to fill a professor's chair in their new -university. -[Sidenote: 1351. -Ætat. -38.] -During this visit they cemented their friendship. Petrarch was then -residing at Padua, and his friend remained some weeks in his house. -Boccaccio read or copied Petrarch's works, while the other pursued his -ordinary studies; and in the evening they sat in the poet's garden, -which was adorned with the flowers and verdure of spring, and spent -hours in delightful conversation. Their hearts were laid bare to each -other, they sympathised in their taste for ancient learning, in their -love for their country, and in the views they entertained for the -welfare of Italy.[71] Boccaccio brought back to Florence Petrarch's -expressed intention to visit his native city. But other feelings -interposed--probably the poet was averse to mingle too nearly with the -violent factions that agitated the republic. He soon after made a -journey to Vaucluse, and never again entered Tuscany. - -Boccaccio was more of a citizen than his friend, and he fulfilled -several offices intrusted to him by the government. Florence was at that -time a little empire in itself, agitated by tumults, divided by -intestine quarrels, and disturbed by wars with the neighbouring states. -Scarce a day passed without an event. The citizens were full of energy -and fire; volatile and rash, sometimes they acted a cowardly, sometimes -a magnanimous part. They were restless and versatile--but ambitious, and -full of that quick intuitive genius which, even now, in their fallen -state, belongs to them. They were at enmity with the Visconti, who -incited against them the hostility of the great company, a band of -mercenary troops, the off-pourings of the invasion of France by the -English, which had entered Italy, and sold their services to different -standards, or made war on their own account for booty only. The peasants -of the Florentine territory had gone out valiantly against them, and -afterwards, assisted by the whole forces of the state, they attacked and -destroyed these pernicious bandits. Still the Visconti continued -powerful and implacable enemies. -[Sidenote: 1353. -Ætat. -40.] -Boccaccio was sent to Bohemia to invite Louis of Bavaria, Marquis of -Brandenburgh, to come to the assistance of Florence and its league. -[Sidenote: 1354. -Ætat. -41.] -At another time he was despatched to Avignon, on occasion of the -entrance of the emperor Charles into Italy, to discover the intentions -of the pope with regard to this monarch. - -These political negotiations could not be carried on by Boccaccio -without inspiring him with violent party feelings: he hated the Visconti -as tyrants, and as disturbers of the peace of Italy. He heard with pain -and indignation that Petrarch had taken up his abode at Milan, under the -protection of its archbishop and lord, Giovanni Visconti. He wrote to -his friend to express his regret and disapprobation. "I would be -silent," he wrote, "but I cannot; reverence restrains, but indignation -impels me to speak. How has Petrarch forgotten his dignity, the -conversations which we have held together concerning the state of Italy, -his hatred of the archbishop, his love of solitude and independence, so -far as to imprison himself at the court of Milan? As easily could I -believe that the wolf fled the lamb, and the tiger became the prey of -the fawn, as that Petrarch should act against the dictates of his -conscience; and that he who called the Visconti a Polyphemus, and a -monster of pride, cruelty, and despotism, should place himself under his -yoke. How could Visconti win that which no pontiff, which neither Robert -of Naples nor the emperor could obtain? Have you done this because the -citizens of your native town have treated you with contempt, and taken -back the patrimony which they at one time restored?"[72] - -Petrarch's answer was moderate; his habits were peaceful and recluse, -and he preferred trusting an absolute prince who was attached to him, -with his safety, to confiding to the caprice of a mob. Personal -intercourse also had shown him that the man whom he had denounced so -bitterly from political animosity, was worthy of private friendship: he -Avas unwilling to enter the very focus of dissention, such as Florence -then was, and he sacrificed his public hatred to the gentler feelings of -personal friendship and gratitude. "It is not likely," he says in his -answer, "that I should learn servitude in my old age; but if I become -dependent, is it not better to submit to one, than, like you, to a whole -people of tyrants?" Petrarch was a patriot in an elevated sense of the -word: he exerted himself to civilise his country, and to spread abroad -the blessings of knowledge; peace was his perpetual cry; but in the -various tyrannies that distracted Italy, he saw the same ambition under -different forms; and taking no part with one against the other, but with -the general good against them all, he held himself free to select his -friends as sympathy and kindness dictated. - -Boccaccio continued to correct and add to his Decameron, which it is -conjectured was published at this time. It spread rapidly through Italy; -its popularity astounded even the author, and must have gratified him, -though aware of its errors, and tendency to injure the principles of -social life. This sentiment increased in after-times, so that he -reproached his friend Mainardo de' Cavalcanti, a Florentine by birth, -but living at the court of the queen of Naples, for having promised his -wife and other ladies of his house that they should read the Decameron. -He entreats him to revoke this promise for his own sake, and theirs, -that their minds might not be contaminated by narrations in which -delicacy and even decency were forgotten; "and if not for their sake," -he continues, "for the sake of my honour. They will, on reading it, -think me the most wicked and licentious of men; for who will be near to -allege in my excuse that I wrote it while young, and urged to the work -by commands not to be disobeyed?" - -Worse for the fame of Boccaccio than the blots that slur the beauty of -the Decameron, is a work, which it is to be lamented fell from his pen. -This was entitled the "Corbaccio." He fell in love with a beautiful and -noble widow of Florence, who treated him with scorn and derision, and he -revenged himself by this production, in which he vilifies the whole sex -in general, and this lady in particular, in a style that prevents any -one of the present day from attempting to read it. - -While we lament such gross ill taste, it is agreeable to forget it, and -to record and remember the vast benefits which Boccaccio bestowed on -mankind, through his ardent and disinterested love of letters, and -especially his extraordinary efforts to create and diffuse a knowledge -of the Greek language and writers. In this labour he far excelled -Petrarch, who possessed a Homer, but was unable to read it. - -He proved his enthusiasm in the most undeniable manner. He was born -poor, even to privation; yet he spent large sums of money in the -acquisition of ancient manuscripts: he transcribed many with his own -hand. His labours in this way were immense: many volumes of the poets, -orators, and historians, were copied by him: among these are mentioned -the whole of the works of Tacitus and Livy, Terence and Boetius, with -various treatises of Cicero and Varro, besides many of the productions -of the fathers. He made journeys in search of manuscripts, and records -one anecdote, which shows how often disappointment must have attended -his labours. He visited the celebrated convent of Monte Cassino, under -the idea that he might find some ancient manuscripts, hitherto unknown. -He asked for the library, and was taken up a ladder into a loft, exposed -to the weather, where the books were lying on the floor moth-eaten, and -covered with damp mould. While he indignantly regarded the materials of -learning which lay desolate before him, he was told, to add to his -horror, that the monks were in the habit of effacing the writing from -their venerable parchments, and of replacing it by scraps from the -ritual, for which they found a ready sale among the neighbouring -villagers. - -Nor was his enthusiasm, like Petrarch's, confined to the ancients. He -could not only feel and appreciate the genius of Dante, but exerted -himself to inspire others with the admiration with which he was filled. -He awoke the Florentines to a just sense of the merits of this sublime -poet, and persuaded them to erect a professorship in their university -for the explanation of the Divina Commedia. He himself first filled the -chair, and wrote a commentary on several of the books, besides a Life of -Dante. This has been usually considered unauthentic, but it is difficult -to see on what grounds this judgment rests. He takes the account of -Dante's love of Beatrice from his own work of the Vita Nuova; and in all -other particulars of his life the information he gives is slight; but, -as far as we are enabled to form an opinion, correct. His genuine -enthusiasm for the beauties of his favourite author led him to regret -that Petrarch did not sufficiently admire him. He copied for his use the -whole of his poem with care and elegance, and sent it to the laureate, -with a poetic epistle, in which he besought him to bestow more attention -and admiration on their illustrious countryman. Petrarch was bigoted to -the notion that any thing written in the vulgar tongue was beneath the -regard of a learned man; and received his present with a coldness that -penetrates through his assumed praises. This celebrated manuscript -belongs to the Vatican library. The epistle mentioned is addressed "To -Francis Petrarch, illustrious and only poet," and is subscribed "thy -Giovanni da Certaldo." The manuscript is illuminated, and the arms of -Petrarch, consisting of a gold bar in an azure field, with a star, -adorns the head of each canto. There are a few notes of emendation, and -the whole is written in a clear and beautiful hand. By a strange -oversight, no care has been taken to collate any modern edition of Dante -with this celebrated copy. - -Boccaccio's endeavours to promote the study of Greek were still more -eminent and singular. At a time when literature was just struggling into -notice, it was not strange that a foreign tongue should be entirely -forgotten. The knowledge of Greek had been slightly spread during the -crusades, when the inhabitants of the West frequently visited -Constantinople; and afterwards the commercial relations of Venice and -Genoa prevented it from being wholly extinguished. But the language thus -brought into use was merely colloquial, and was to a great degree -superseded by the Lingua Franca. Petrarch had read a few of the -dialogues of Plato with bishop Barlaam, but his knowledge was very -slight. To Boccaccio the praise is due of unwearied and successful -labour in the cause of Hellenic literature. He had studied, while at -Naples, under Barlaam and Paolo Perugino; but his chief efforts had -their date from the period of his establishing himself at Florence. Poor -as he was, he spared no expense in collecting manuscripts, so that it is -suspected that all the Greek books possessed by the Tuscans, and all the -knowledge of them diffused through Europe, before the taking of -Constantinople, which was extensive, at least in Italy, was derived from -the labours, and procured at the expense, of Boccaccio. When he visited -Petrarch at Milan, the laureate mentioned to him incidentally, one -Leonzio Pilato, a Calabrian, who, having spent almost all his life in -Greece, called himself a native of that country. This man possessed a -perfect knowledge of the language: Petrarch had met him at Verona, and -they read a few passages of Homer together. Boccaccio saw in this a -favourable opportunity for facilitating his laudable attempt to make the -Greek language a part of the liberal education of his countrymen. Pilato -was at Venice: Boccaccio obtained a decree from the Florentine -government for the erection of a Greek professorship in their -university, carried it to Venice, and persuaded Pilato to accept the -office, and to return with him to Florence, where he lodged him at his -own house.[73] They laboured together to make a Latin translation of -Homer, which Boccaccio transcribed with his own hand. The total want of -lexicons and grammars rendered the undertaking inconceivably arduous; -and not least among the difficulties with which Boccaccio had to -struggle was the violent, untameable, and morose disposition of his -guest. This was the man whom Petrarch supposed could never have smiled, -and whose manners were so savage, that he declared that not even his -love of Greek could induce him to invite him a second time to his house. -His aspect was repulsive, his habits disgusting, his conversation gloomy -and unsocial. He was proud and violent, and, detesting the Italians, -made no secret of his abhorrence; and, discontented with himself and -others, he was always wishing himself elsewhere than where he was. Yet -the courteous and amiable Boccaccio, who was accustomed to the -refinement of a court, and who loved the elegance and gaiety of society, -kept him under his roof for three years, humouring his whims, and -studying in his company. - -Meanwhile his moral habits underwent a beneficial change, owing to the -admonitions and example of Petrarch. -[Sidenote: 1359. -Ætat. -46.] -He visited this excellent man at Milan, and spent several weeks in an -intimate intercourse, which was of the greatest service to him to the -end of his days. Petrarch, whose soul was purified by the struggles of -his passion for a noble-minded woman, taught him that learning was of -small avail to its possessor, unless combined with moral principle and -virtuous habits. These conversations awoke in Boccaccio's mind a desire -to vanquish his passions. He saw and loved the example of delicacy and -honour set him by his friend; and although he could not all at once -succeed in imitating him, he became aware of what his duties were: his -conscience awoke, and a love of right was engendered, which enabled him, -in process of time, to triumph over the habits and vices by which he had -hitherto been enslaved. - -A singular circumstance achieved the work begun by his inestimable -friend. Boccaccio's vivacious and sensitive mind could with difficulty -be brought to act from the mere influence of reason. But the change -which a love of moral truth and the dictates of good taste were -inefficacious to operate, was brought about by the agency of -superstition and fear. -[Sidenote: 1361. -Ætat. -48.] -One day a Carthusian monk arrived at Certaldo, and demanded an interview -with Boccaccio, who received him with kindness, and listened to him with -attention. The monk first related, that there had lately lived in his -convent at Siena a brother named Pietro Petroni, a man of singular -piety, who was accustomed to pray with extreme fervour for the -conversion of the wicked. On his death-bed he had called his companion, -Giovacchino Ciani, to his bedside, and gave him various messages, to be -delivered to a number of persons, to the purport that they should change -their lives, and study how to be saved. As soon as the monk was dead, -Ciani departed to fulfil his commission, and in the first place came to -Certaldo. He then made an exposition of Boccaccio's errors, and above -all of the wide-spreading evils occasioned by his writings, and which -were a snare and a temptation to the young, imploring him to turn his -talents, which he had hitherto exerted in the service of the spirit of -evil, to the glory of God and the saints; telling him that he had been -incited by a vain glory, which made him rather seek the applause of the -world than the favour of his Creator; and what reward could he expect, -except eternal punishment hereafter? "I do not spare your ears," -continued the zealous Ciani, "and am the less scrupulous, because -Petroni speaks through me, who is now looking down from heaven upon us. -Therefore, in the words of that blessed man, I exhort, entreat, and -command you to change your sinful course of life, to cast aside your -poetical studies, and to become a disciple and inculcator of divine -truth. If you refuse to obey my voice, I predict, in his name, a -miserable end to your depravity, and a speedier death than you -anticipate; so that your profane studies and life shall at once be -brought to an end;" and to add the force of supernatural revelation to -his words, he communicated to Boccaccio several events of his life, -which he presumed to be only known to himself, but which had been -revealed to the monk by Petroni; and then he took his leave, saying, -that he was about to fulfil a similar mission to several others, and -that among them he should visit Petrarch. - -Boccaccio was aghast. Superstitious fear shook his soul; he gave -credulous ear to what he was told, and resolved to give himself up to -sacred studies and penitence. His first impulse was to sell his library -and to abandon poetry altogether: meanwhile he communicated the visit he -had received, and the effect that it had on him, to his dear friend and -monitor, Petrarch. - -Petrarch had subjected himself, during all his life, to moral -discipline; he was a self-seeker and a self-reprover. He was not so -easily shaken from the calm tenor of his piety and faith by prognostics -and denunciations; he replied to his friend in a letter full of good -sense and kind feeling. In those days a letter was a treatise; ancient -history was ransacked, and the whole learning of the writer poured out -in a torrent. But there are passages which deserve to be quoted. -"Falsehood and imposture," he wrote, "often disguise themselves in the -habit of religion; but I will not pronounce any decided opinion till I -have seen the messenger. The age of the man, his countenance, eyes, -manners, gestures, his voice and words, and, above all, the sum and -purport of what he says, will serve to enlighten me. It is announced to -you that you have but a short time to live, and that you must renounce -poetry and profane literature. These words at first filled me with -consternation and grief. How could I anticipate your death without -tears? But, on further reflection, I am led to consider that you look -with terror and regret on what ought really to be a matter of rejoicing, -for thus you are detached from the world, and brought, as we all ought, -to meditate upon death, and to aspire to that height where no worldly -temptation intrudes to contaminate the soul. You will learn from these -admonitions to control your passions, and to reform your habits of life. -But I exhort you not to abandon hooks and learning, which nauseate and -injure the weak only, but which invigorate and comfort the -strong-minded." - -After placing these considerations in various and strong lights, -Petrarch concludes by saying, "If you continue to adhere to your -purpose, and determine not only to relinquish study, but to cast aside -the instruments of learning, I shall be delighted to possess your books; -and I would rather buy them, than that the library of so great a man -should be scattered abroad in the world.[74] I cannot name a price, not -knowing their value nor number. Think of these things, and reflect -whether you cannot, as I have long wished, pass the remainder of your -days with me. As to your debt to me, I do not know of it, nor understand -this foolish scruple of conscience. You owe me nothing except love; nor -that, since each day you pay me: except, indeed, that, receiving -continually from me, you still continue to owe. You complain of poverty. -I will not bring forward the usual consolations, nor allege the examples -of illustrious men, for you know them already. I applaud you for having -preferred poverty, combined with independence, to the riches and slavery -that were offered you; but I do not praise you for refusing the -solicitations of a friend. I am not able to enrich you; if I were I -should use neither words nor pen, but speak to you in deeds. But what is -sufficient for one is enough for two; one house may surely suffice for -those who have but one heart. Your disinclination to come injures me, -and it is more injurious if you doubt my sincerity." - -Boccaccio was convinced by his friend, and the excess of his penitence -and zeal died away; but the reform of his moral character was permanent. -He adopted the clerical dress, and endeavoured to suppress those -writings which scandalised the pious. - -He was very poor: his patrimony was slender, and shared with his brother -Jacopo, and diminished also by various expenses incurred in his zeal to -procure books and advance learning. He had passed a life of freedom, -however, and shrunk from servitude. The passage in Petrarch's letter -which refers to this, concerns his having refused the honourable and -lucrative, but onerous post, of apostolic secretary; nor was he tempted -by Petrarch's invitation, being unwilling to burthen one whose means -were very limited. He, however, fell into a most painful mistake when he -accepted the offer of a wealthy patron, which originated pride, and not -affection. - -The seneschal Acciajuolo was a Florentine, settled at Naples; he had -long been the counsellor and friend of Louis, prince of Tarento, second -husband of queen Jane. He had accompanied him in his flight to France, -and stood by him during his adversity. When the affairs of Naples were -settled, and Jane and Louis restored to the throne, Acciajuolo became -the first man in the kingdom: he was made seneschal; but his power and -influence were limited by no mere place. -[Sidenote: 1363. -Ætat. -50.] -He had pretensions to learning, and was the friend and correspondent of -Petrarch: he was proud and arrogant, and wished to be esteemed a -munificent man. He invited Boccaccio to come and take up his abode in -his palace at Naples, and to employ himself in writing a history of the -seneschal's life. Boccaccio was seduced, by a belief in the reality of -his friendship and the nobleness of his generosity, to accept his offer. -He was received by the great man with apparent pleasure, and with many -promises of future benefit; but he was undeceived as to the kindness of -his welcome, when he was led to the chamber destined for his -accommodation. The seneschal lived in a magnificent palace, adorned with -all the luxuries known in those days: the room assigned to Boccaccio was -mean and squalid; it contained one dirty, ill-furnished bed, for himself -and his brother Jacopo, and he was placed at the same table with the -stable boys and the lower servants of the house, together with a whole -host of needy hangers-on. Boccaccio's necessities were not so great as -to force him to endure this unworthy treatment, and his spirit revolted -against it. He removed at once to the house of his friend, Mainardo de' -Cavalcanti, by whom he was cordially and honourably received; and -finding, on a second trial, to which he was urged by the servile advice -of some friends, that Acciajuolo was wholly ignorant of the duties of -hospitality, and totally deficient in generosity and delicacy, he left -Naples and proceeded to Venice. - -He here passed three happy months with Petrarch. The Greek, Leonzio -Pilato, joined them. Their society consisted of either learned men, or -the Venetian nobility; and the friends reaped great enjoyment from the -intimacy and unreserve of their intercourse. After the lapse of three -months Boccaccio returned to Florence, though the plague was raging -there, and Petrarch entertained a thousand fears on his account. - -An abode in Florence was nevertheless ill suited to the new course of -life which he proposed to himself. The city was perpetually disturbed by -domestic strife, or the treachery of the foreign princes, whom they -called in to their assistance in time of war. Boccaccio retreated from -this scene of discord, and took up his abode at the castle of Certaldo, -where he gave himself entirely up to study: his house there is still to -be seen. Certaldo is situated on a hill, and looks down on the fertile -valley watered by the river Elsa.[75] The country around is picturesque, -adorned by various castles and rustic villages. The culture of corn, -vines, and olives, adorns the depth of the valley and the uplands; and -three successive harvests are brought in by the husbandman. Here -Boccaccio composed most of his later works, and the influence of -Petrarch is perceptible in his choice of subjects and language. This is -to be greatly lamented, since his desertion of Italian was founded upon -a mistake, which has given us, instead of works of imagination and -genius, heavy treatises and inaccurate histories. Boccaccio's Latin is -bald and tame; he knew nothing of the structure, and was unable to -clothe his thoughts with the eloquence natural to him: he rattled the -dry bones of the skeleton of a dead language, instead of making use of -the young and vigorous tongue to which he had given birth. - -His first work, under this new direction, was one of great labour and -erudition for those times, and was entered upon at the suggestion of Ugo -IV., king of Cyprus and Jerusalem. It treats of the genealogy of the -gods, and relates the connection between the various deities of the -beautiful Greek mythology. For many years it continued to be a standard -book, whence the Italians drew all their knowledge of the subject; and -it was doubtless a useful production. In pursuance of his plan of being -the schoolmaster of his age, and introducing his countrymen to the -knowledge of forgotten lore, he afterwards composed a dictionary of -ancient rivers, mountains, and forests. His active mind was always -finding new subjects for his pen. He discovered that the female sex -possessed no historian, and he dedicated himself to their service by -writing the lives of illustrious women. In this he describes the ideal -of a virtuous matron, and goes to the extreme usual to a reformed -libertine. Her conduct must not only be strictly correct, but she must -not even look about her; she must speak little, eat little, and avoid -singing and dancing. Given up to domestic cares, she must be simple in -her dress, and even love her husband moderately. He wrote after this a -work entitled, "De Casibus Virorum et Fæminarum Illustrium," in which -he records the disasters and adversity which history relates to have -befallen royal or noble personages. Thus his time was entirely spent -among his books, and he acquired a reputation for learning and purity of -life, which raised him high in the opinion of his fellow citizens. - -He was, in consequence, appointed, on two occasions, ambassador to pope -Urban V. -[Sidenote: 1365. -Ætat. -52.] -In fulfilment of the first mission, he went to Avignon, where he was -honourably received, especially by Philip de Cabassoles, the intimate -and beloved friend of Petrarch. On his return, he was very desirous of -passing from Genoa to Pavia, to see the laureate; but the duties of his -embassy forbade. To indemnify himself, he projected a visit to him at -Venice. There is a Latin letter of his extant, which gives an -interesting account of this latter journey: it is addressed to Petrarch, -whom he missed, as he was again gone to Pavia. Boccaccio did not hear of -this circumstance till he reached Bologna; and it almost made him give -up his journey. "On my road," he writes, "I encountered Francesco (_the -son-in-law of Petrarch_), to my great delight. After a glad and friendly -meeting, I began to observe the person of this man. His placid -countenance, measured language, and mild manners pleased me: I praised -your choice, as I praise all you do." On his arrival at Venice, "I -received," he says, "many invitations, and accepted that of Francesco -Allegri. I would not avail myself of your kind offer, and take up my -abode under your daughter's roof, during the absence of her husband. I -should have preferred going to an inn to being the cause of the scandal -that might have arisen, despite my grey hairs and fat unwieldy figure." - -"I went, however, to see Francesca; who, when she heard of my arrival, -came to meet me with gladness, as if you yourself had returned: yet, -when she saw me, she was abashed, blushed, and cast down her eyes; and -then, after a timid welcome, she embraced me with filial and modest -affection. After conversing together some little time, we went into your -garden, and found several of your friends assembled. Here, in explicit -and kind terms, she offered me your house, your books, and every thing -belonging to you, in a matronly and becoming manner. While we were -conversing, your beloved little granddaughter came up: she looked -smilingly at me, and I took her with delight in my arms. At first, -methought I saw my own child[76]: her face resembles hers--the same -smile, the same laughing eyes; the gestures, gait, and carriage of her -person, though a little taller--for mine was only five years and a half -old when I last saw her--were all similar: if their dialect had been the -same, their expressions would have resembled in their simplicity. I saw -no difference, except that yours has golden hair, and that of mine was -black. Alas! while caressing and charmed by her talk, the recollection -of my loss drew tears from my eyes; so that I turned my face away, to -conceal my emotion." - -"I cannot tell you all that Francesco said and did upon his return; his -frequent visits when he found that I would not remove to his house; and -how hospitably he entertained me. One incident will suffice: knowing -that I was poor, which I never denied, on my departure from Venice, at a -late hour, he withdrew with me into another part of his house; and, -after taking leave, he stretched out his long arms, and, putting a purse -into my hands, made his escape, before I could expostulate with or thank -him." - -After having been gratified by these tokens of real friendship, -Boccaccio suffered one of those mortifying disappointments which too -often occur to those who are ready to trust to the good-will and offers -of assistance of men who call themselves their friends. Niccolo di -Montefalcone, abbot of the celebrated Carthusian monastery of San -Stefano in Calabria, invited him to take up his abode with him, -describing the agreeable situation of his house, its select library, and -the leisure to be enjoyed there. -[Sidenote: 1370. -Ætat. -57.] -Boccaccio accepted the invitation, and made the journey. He arrived late -at night before the gates of the secluded monastery; but, instead of the -welcome he expected, he found that the abbot had left the convent -hastily, in the middle of the night, on purpose to avoid him. Boccaccio, -justly indignant, wrote an angry letter, and, leaving the inhospitable -retreat, repaired to Naples, where he was again cordially received by -his friend Mainardo de' Cavalcanti. - -During his visit to Naples, Boccaccio received many offers of -hospitality and patronage: among others, queen Jane of Naples, and -Giacomo king of Majorca, endeavoured to persuade him to enter into their -service; but Boccaccio was naturally proud and independent: he had been -duped by an appearance of friendship, but recoiled from a state of -servitude: he preferred his quiet home at Certaldo to the favours of the -great; nor could the renewed solicitations of Petrarch induce him to -change his mind; and he returned to Tuscany. -[Sidenote: 1372. -Ætat. -59.] -[Sidenote: 1373. -Ætat. -60.] -When he visited Naples again, it was merely for the sake of seeing his -friends, without any ulterior view, and he quickly returned to the quiet -of Certaldo, where he busied himself in the publication of his work of -the "Genealogy of the Gods." - -Age and infirmity advanced on him before their time: he was attacked by -a painful and disagreeable disease, which rendered life a burthen to -him. He lost his strength, and the powers of his understanding; his -limbs became heavy, and the light of heaven intolerable; his memory was -impaired, and his books no longer afforded him any pleasure. His -thoughts were fixed upon the tomb, towards which he believed himself to -be rapidly approaching. After having continued in this state for several -months, he was one day seized with a violent fever, which increased -towards night. His disturbed thoughts turned towards the past: his life -appeared to him to have been wasted, and fruitful only of remorse. No -friend was near him: his sole attendant was an old nurse, who, unable to -penetrate the cause of his disquietude, annoyed him by her meaningless -and vulgar consolations. His fever increased; he believed himself to be -dying, and he feared to die. His courage, which had until now sustained, -all at once deserted him. Hitherto he had avoided physicians, having no -faith in the art: he was now driven to send for one, whose remedies -afforded him relief, and restored him to some portion of health.[77] - -The energy of his mind returned with his bodily strength. He had -laboured long to induce the Florentine government to bestow some -honourable testimonial on the memory of the illustrious Dante. At -length, a decree was promulgated, instituting a professorship for the -public explanation of the "Divina Commedia," so to promote, as it was -expressed, the advancement of learning and virtue among the living and -their posterity. The professorship was bestowed upon Boccaccio: he -received a salary of one hundred florins a year, and delivered his -lectures in the church of San Stefano. The result was his commentary on -the first seventeen cantos of the "Inferno," written in a clear, simple, -and elegant style, full of excellent criticism and valuable -illustrations. - -Thus the remnants of his failing strength were spent upon doing honour -to the memory of the celebrated poet, whose genius he so warmly and -generously admired, and a depreciation of whom is the sole blot on the -otherwise faultless character of Petrarch: but, while he roused his -intellects to understand and comment upon the delicate and sublime -beauties of Dante, his physical strength decayed, and his sensibility -received a severe shock from the death of his beloved friend Petrarch. -[Sidenote: 1374. -Ætat. -61.] -He heard it first by public report; and it was afterwards confirmed to -him in a letter from Francesco Brossano, the laureate's son-in-law, who -transmitted to him the legacy of fifty florins, for the purchase of a -fur dress for his winter studies. Boccaccio wrote, in return, a letter -full of grief and admiration. "He did not mourn," he said, "for the -dead, who was receiving the reward of his virtues, but for those who -survived him, and were abandoned to the tempestuous sea of life without -a pilot." He would have visited his tomb had his health permitted; and -he besought Brossano to take care of his posthumous reputation, and to -publish his poem of "Africa," which was only known to the world in -fragments. In compliance with his request, Brossano had the poem copied, -and sent it to him; but he did not live to receive it. - -He felt his end approaching, and Petrarch's death loosened his last tie -to earth. He made his will, and named the sons of his brother Jacopo his -heirs. He left legacies to those to whom he owed return for friendship -and services; and he concluded, by leaving his library, in the first -instance, to his spiritual director, Martino da Signa, to go, after his -death, to the convent of the Spirito Santo, at Florence, for the benefit -of the studious. - -He survived Petrarch one year only, and died at Certaldo, on the 21st -December, 1375, in the 63d year of his age. His death was occasioned by -a malady of small moment in itself, but fatal in his debilitated state, -and aggravated by his continual application. He was buried at Certaldo, -in the church of SS. Jacopo and Filippo. His son presided at his -funeral, and erected a tomb, on which was inscribed a Latin epitaph, -composed by Boccaccio himself, in which he mentions that honourable love -of literature which characterised him through life:--"_Patria Certaldum; -studium fuit alma poesis._" He was lamented throughout Italy; but his -loss was chiefly deplored in his native city, as, during his residence -there, he had redeemed his early follies by a course of life devoted to -the cultivation of literature and religion, and the duties of a citizen. -While all read with delight the purer productions of his imaginative -genius, the learned of every age must feel grateful to his unwearied -labours in the preservation of the ancient manuscripts, many of which, -but for him, had been lost for ever to the world. - - -[Footnote 58: Genealogia Deorum.] - -[Footnote 59: Baldelli.] - -[Footnote 60: Filippo Villani.] - -[Footnote 61: Geneal. Deor.] - -[Footnote 62: Geneal. Deor.] - -[Footnote 63: Ibid.] - -[Footnote 64: Tiraboschi.] - -[Footnote 65: Filocopo.] - -[Footnote 66: This lady Mary cannot be the princess Mary, an -acknowledged natural daughter of king Robert. The latter was beheaded -during the troubles at Naples, a year after Boccaccio's death. The poems -of Boccaccio declare that he outlived his lady Mary, Fiammetta, as he -called her, many years; and his writings give proof that her royal and -illegitimate origin was always preserved a secret.] - -[Footnote 67: La Fiammetta.] - -[Footnote 68: Rime.] - -[Footnote 69: Ameto.] - -[Footnote 70: Baldelli.] - -[Footnote 71: Petrarch's Letters.] - -[Footnote 72: This singular circumstance is not noticed by Petrarch in -any of his letters. Did the Florentines act thus to punish him for his -journey to Avignon, at the time they had invited him to take up his -abode among them? Yet, on another occasion, the citizens petitioned the -pope to give the poet a benefice within their walls, and so induce him -to inhabit their city. Perhaps the expression used in Boccaccio's letter -is ironical.] - -[Footnote 73: Guignenè.] - -[Footnote 74: It is not creditable to the learning of those times to -learn, that the libraries of these two great revivers of knowledge were -lost to the world soon after their deaths. Boccaccio's, it is true, was -destroyed by an accident, being burnt when the convent to which he had -left it was consumed by fire. But Petrarch's mouldered away in the -palace given by the republic of Venice for its reception and -preservation, so that dusty fragments were afterwards found to be all -that remained of the venerable parchments which the laureate had -expended so much time and labour in collecting.] - -[Footnote 75: Baldelli.] - -[Footnote 76: It is unknown who was the mother of this child, or -grandchild, who died so young. Boccaccio had, besides, one son -established at Florence, whom he does not mention in his will, but who -presided at his funeral, and erected a tomb over his remains.] - -[Footnote 77: Baldelli, Cod. San. Epist. I.] - - - - -LORENZO DE' MEDICI - -(considered as a poet); - -FICINO, PICO DELLA MIRANDOLA, POLITIAN, -THE PULCI, etc. - - -After the deaths of Petrarch and Boccaccio, the cause of learning was, -to a certain degree, lost. The study of Greek and the search for -manuscripts was discontinued. The first person who brought that language -again into notice, was Emanuel Chrysoloras, a noble Greek, who was -frequently sent into Italy on embassies by the emperor of -Constantinople, and employed his leisure in teaching his native tongue -in Florence. His disciples were numerous: among these. Poggio -Bracciolini was the most distinguished. He discovered and collected a -vast number of the most valuable manuscripts. Besides the philosophic -and beautiful poem of Lucretius, we owe to him the complete copies of -Quintilian, Plautus, Statius, Silius Italicus, Columella, and many -others. Several of these exist only from the copy found by him, and were -thus rescued from certain destruction. "I did not find them in -libraries," he says, "which their dignity demanded, but in a dark and -obscure dungeon at the bottom of a tower, in which they were leading the -life of the damned." Filelfo was also an ardent collector. The -discussions between the Roman and Greek churches brought several Greek -scholars and philosophers into Italy, and through them the Platonic -doctrines were known to the Italians. -[Sidenote: 1438.] -Gemisthus Pletho, who had been master of Chrysoloras, but who survived -him many years, was their chief promulgator. They were in opposition to -the Aristotelian philosophy, which had so long been the only one taught -in the schools of Italy; but their glowing beauty and imagination were -adapted to enchant all who heard them. Cosmo de' Medici became their -convert, and resolved to establish an academy at Florence for their -study and propagation. He caused Marsiglio Ficino, the son of his -favourite physician, to be educated for this purpose by the teachers of -Platonic philosophy. -[Sidenote: 1453.] -Cosmo was also the founder of the Medicean library. The taking of -Constantinople by the Turks aided the advancement of learning; and while -Cosmo protected many learned Greeks who took refuge at Florence, they -spread refinement and knowledge throughout the peninsula. - -[Sidenote 1464.] - -Cosmo died soon after; and as his son Piero did not long survive him, -Lorenzo succeeded to his wealth and political influence. Lorenzo had -been brought up with solicitous attention. He was fortunate in his -mother. Madonna Lucretia, a lady of considerable talents and -accomplishments, a lover of learning, and patroness of learned men. He -was first the pupil of Gentile d' Urbino, bishop of Arezzo; and -afterwards of Christofero Landino; and a warm attachment subsisted -between master and pupil. He soon gave manifestations of the -magnificence of his disposition; and his love of poetry developed itself -at an early age. After the death of Cosmo, and his father Piero, -however, his life was no longer one of studious leisure or youthful -enjoyment; but visited by many disastrous occurrences. -[Sidenote 1478.] -The conspiracy of the Pazzi was directed against his life and that of -his brother. Giuliano was its victim; while he with difficulty escaped -from the poniard of the assassin. He was scarcely free from these -domestic dangers, when he encountered greater foreign ones, from the -implacable enmity of Sixtus VI. This pope leagued almost all Italy -against Florence, declaring at the same time that Lorenzo was the object -of their attack; and that if he were sacrificed, Florence should obtain -peace. Lorenzo maintained the weight of this coalition with firmness and -dignity. -[Sidenote 1479.] -With heroic gallantry he took the whole responsibility on his own -person, and threw himself into the hands of the king of Naples. -[Sidenote 1480.] -His firmness and talents enabled him to induce this monarch to conclude -a treaty beneficial and honourable to Florence, and his authority in the -republic was thus confirmed greater than ever. From this time he -occupied himself by establishing an enduring peace in Italy; not -pursuing his object by pusillanimous concessions, but by an unremitted -attention to the course of events, and sound policy in preserving the -balance of power among the Italian states. - -From the anxieties and cares attendant on his public life, he was glad -to find relaxation in the cultivation of poetry and the pursuits of -philosophy. He loved literature and the fine arts, and devoted much of -his time and fortune to their cultivation. He encouraged Greek learning, -and was an enthusiastic Platonist. His chief friends were literary -men--Politian, Marsiglio Ficino, and the three brothers of the name of -Pulci. He busied himself in raising and giving reputation to the -university of Pisa. He instituted a yearly celebration of the -anniversary of Plato's birth and death, and was the cause that his -refined philosophy became the fashion in Italy. All the learned wrote -and spoke Plato; and in Florence in particular, classic learning was an -indispensable qualification in a well-educated man. - -One of the chief merits of Lorenzo is derived from the revival of his -native language. A century had elapsed since the golden age of Petrarch -and Boccaccio, but the Italian language, instead of redeeming the -promise of its birth, had remained mute and inglorious. The neglect -which so speedily darkened the native literature, may be attributed to -these very men, and especially to Petrarch, who cast disgrace over what -he called the vulgar tongue, and taught that Latin was the only worthy -medium by which learned men should communicate their ideas--and such -Latin! However, the spirit of improvement, which is the most valuable -attribute of human nature, led the students who succeeded him to -cultivate and understand the implement he placed in their hands. They -applied themselves to a critical examination of Latin; and after all, it -is perhaps, to the bald, unformed Latinity of Petrarch, that we owe the -knowledge which the scholar of the present day possesses of the -construction and delicacies of that language. If he had not taught the -world, that the object chiefly worthy of their ambition was to imitate -the works of Virgil and Cicero, no one had spent the labour necessary to -the entire understanding of the language of the Romans. - -Yet, while this advantage was derived from his mistake, imagination and -genius were silenced; little prose and no poetry, either in Latin or the -vulgar tongue, appeared in Italy. The writers educated by Cosmo, -Politian, and Ficino, still adhered to the hereditary error, and wrote -in Latin. Lorenzo first broke through these rules, and expressed in his -native language the fragile and delicate ideas inspired by a poetic -imagination. He ranks high as a poet: he does not possess the sublimity -and grace of Dante, nor the elegance, tenderness, and incomparable -sweetness of Petrarch; but his merits are original and conspicuous: -simplicity and vivacity adorn his verses. His love poems are full of -fire, and come from the heart; his descriptions are delightful, from -their truth, elegance, and flow of fancy throughout; his diction is that -of a genuine poet. - -It is singular, that although Lorenzo possessed the germ of real poetry -in his mind, he began to work himself up to writing verses in a manner -that appears cold to our northern imaginations: he resolved to love, and -resolved to write verses on her he loved; yet, being a poet, and a man -whose heart easily opened itself to the warmer affections, no doubt a -great deal of real feeling accompanied his aspirations. He himself gives -the account of all these circumstances in a commentary written on his -first sonnets. - -His brother Guiliano had been deeply attached to a lovely girl named -Simonetta, who died in the bloom of beauty: it is supposed, that he -alludes to her when he describes the excitement caused by the public -funeral of a beautiful young lady, whose admirers crowded round her open -bier, and gazed, for the last time, on the pallid face of the object of -their adoration, which was exposed uncovered to their view, accompanying -the funeral with their tears. All the eloquence and talent of Florence -were exerted to pay honour to her memory in prose and verse. Lorenzo -himself composed a few sonnets, and to give them greater effect, he -tried to imagine that he also was a lover, mourning over the untimely -end of one beloved, and then again he reflected that he might write -still more feelingly, if he could discover a living object, to whom to -address his homage. He looked round among the beauties of Florence, to -discover one whose perfections should satisfy his judgment, as worthy of -inspiring a sincere and constant attachment. At last, at a public -festival, he beheld a girl so lovely and attractive in her appearance, -that, as he gazed on her, he said to himself, "If this person were -possessed of the delicacy, the understanding, and accomplishments of her -who is lately dead, most certainly she excels her in personal charms." -On becoming acquainted with her, he found his fondest dreams realised: -she was perfectly beautiful, clever, vivacious, yet full of dignity and -sweetness. It is a pity that this account rather chills us as we read -his sonnets, and we feel them rather as coming from the head than heart: -yet they are tender and graceful; and it is not difficult for a youth of -an ardent disposition, and an Italian, to love a beautiful girl, even at -the word of command. - -One of these sonnets possesses the simplicity and grace which -distinguish Lorenzo's poetry: we give Mr. Roscoe's translation of it, -and yet are not satisfied. Mr. Roscoe wrote at a time when the -common-places of versification, brought in by the imitators of Pope, -were still in vogue; but this observation applies chiefly to the -beginning of the sonnet; the conclusion is better, yet the whole wants -the brightness and spring of the original. Happy are those who can refer -to that.[78] - - -"Seek he who will in grandeur to be blest, -Place in proud halls, and splendid courts, his joy; -For pleasure or for gold his arts employ, -Whilst all his hours unnumber'd cares molest. -A little field in native flowrets drest, -A rivulet in soft numbers gliding by, -A bird, whose love-sick note salutes the sky, -With sweeter magic lull my cares to rest. -And shadowy woods, and rocks, and towering hills, -And caves obscure, and nature's freeborn train, -And some lone nymph that timorous speeds along, -Each in my mind some gentle thought instils -Of those bright eyes that absence shrouds in vain; -Ah, gentle thoughts! soon lost the city cares among." - - -Many sonnets and canzoni were written to celebrate this lady's -perfections and his passion, but he never mentions her name. From -contemporary poets, Politian and Verini, who addressed her, and Valori, -who wrote a life of Lorenzo, we learn, that her name was Lucretia, of -the noble family of Donati; an ancestor of whom, Cuzio Donato, had been -celebrated for his military enterprises. But it is mutual love that -excites our sympathy, and there is no token that Lucretia regarded her -lover with more fervour than he deserved; for, however Verini may -undertake to prove that he was worthy of a return for his attachment, a -different opinion must be formed, when we find that he married a short -time after, not the sighed for Lucretia, but Clarice degli Orsini; and -although the usual excuse is given, that this marriage was consented to -by him to please his relatives, and as he expresses it, "I took for a -wife, or rather was given me;" yet as Lucretia must have been the victim -of his obedience, it is agreeable to find that she gave slight ear to -his empty or deceptive protestations. - -His other poems were composed as recreation during a busy life, and many -of them are animated by glowing sensibility or light-hearted hilarity. -Among them the most celebrated is "La Nencia da Barbarino," where he -makes a swain praise his mistress in rustic phrase; this is a dangerous -experiment, but Lorenzo perfectly succeeded. His poem is totally devoid -of affectation, and is so charming for its earnestness and simplicity, -that it was repeated and sung by every one in Florence. Many tried to -imitate the style, but vainly; and they complained that, though many -peasant girls were celebrated, La Nencia da Barbarino was the only -rustic beauty who could gain the popular favour. - -His Canzoni Carnaleschi are animated and original; he was the inventor -of this style of song. He exerted himself, on all occasions, to vary and -refine the public amusements of Florence, and during the carnival, the -period of gaiety and pleasure in Catholic countries, introduced -processions and dances of a novel and delightful description. It was the -custom of the women to form themselves into bands of twelve, and, linked -hand with hand, to sing as they danced in a circle. Lorenzo composed -several canzoni a ballo, which became favourites for these occasions. -One of these,-- - - -"Ven venga Maggio -E 'l Gonfalon selvaggio," &c. - -"Welcome, May, -And the rustic banner," &c.-- - - -is the prettiest and most spirited song for May ever written. His -processions and masquerades afforded also subjects for verse. Bands of -people paraded the city in character, personating triumphs, or -exhibitions of the arts; and Lorenzo wrote songs, which they chanted as -they passed along. It is singular, that, free and energetic as the -Florentines were, yet the songs composed for them never spoke of -liberty, but turned upon love only: love was all their theme--love that -was often licentiousness, and yet described with such truth and beauty, -as must have tended greatly to enervate, and even to vitiate, the -various persons that formed these gay companies. Lorenzo's canzoni are -tainted with this defect. - -Lorenzo was a faithful and kind, though not a fond husband. His feelings -were always held in discipline by him; and if he were too sensitive to -the influence of beauty, yet his actions were all regulated by that -excellent sense of justice and duty which is his admirable -characteristic. There are some elegiac stanzas preserved of his, which -prove that he suffered at one time the struggles and errors of passion, -and was subdued by it to other thoughts than those which his reason -approved. How different is this poem to those addressed to Lucretia -Donati. There is no Platonic refinement, no subtlety, no conceit, no -imitation of Petrarch; its diction is clear and sweet; truth and -strength of feeling animate each expression; it bears the stamp of -heartfelt sincerity, and is adorned by all the delicacy which real -passion inspires. "Ah!" he exclaims, "had we been joined in marriage! -Had you been earlier born, or had I come later into the world!" These -stanzas are even left unfinished, and probably were concealed, as -revealing a secret which it would have been fatal to have discovered to -the world. - -Besides the animated and gay songs, and choruses, in which Lorenzo is -unrivalled, he wrote several descriptive poems: one long one relates the -history of how his favourite country house, named Ambra, was carried -away by the overflowing of the Ombrone. He figures the villa to be a -nymph, of whom the river god is enamoured, and, like one of Ovid's -heroines, she falls a victim to his pursuit. The descriptions in this -poem are lively, true, and graceful. The "Caccia di Falcone" gives a -spirited detail of the disasters that befall falconers: he bring in -several of his friends by name. "Where is Luigi Pulci," he cries, "that -we do not hear him? He is gone before in that grove, for some whim has -seized him, and he has retreated to meditate a sonnet." - -[Sidenote: April -8. -1492] - -Lorenzo died at the early age of forty-four, of a painful and -inexplicable disorder, which, attacking his stomach, gave rise to the -idea that he was poisoned. He was considerate and affectionate to the -last; endeavouring to impress his system of policy on his son's mind, -and exerting himself to lighten the grief of those around him. Potents -and wonders followed his death, which even Machiavelli, then a very -young man, deemed miraculous. He was universally lamented; and the -downfall of his family, which occurred soon after, through the -misconduct of his eldest son, Piero, renewed the grief of the friends -who survived him. - - - - -MARSIGLIO FICINO - - -The literary tastes of Cosmo, the talents and admirable qualities of -Lucretia, the mother of Lorenzo, and the example and protection of -Lorenzo himself, rendered his a golden era for poets and philosophers. -It has been already mentioned, that for the sake of spreading abroad a -knowledge of the Platonic doctrines, Cosmo had caused the son of his -favourite physician to be educated in the study and cultivation of them. -Marsiglio Ficino was born at Florence, on the 18th of October, 1433. His -first studies were directed by Luca Quarqualio, with whom he read -Cicero, and other Latin authors; applying his attention principally to -the mention made of Plato, and already admiring and loving his -philosophy. His father, being poor, sent him to study at Bologna, to the -discontent of Marsiglio; but fortunately, one day, during a casual visit -to Florence, his father led him to Cosmo de' Medici, who, struck with -the intelligence exhibited in his countenance, chose him at once, young -as he was, to be the future support of his Platonic academy; and, -turning to the father, said, "You were sent us by heaven to cure the -body, but your son is certainly destined to cure the mind."[79] He -adopted him in his house; and Marsiglio never ceased to testify his -gratitude, and to declare that he had been to him a second father. He -was given up henceforth to Platonism. At the age of twenty-three he -wrote his "Platonic Institutions." Plato was his idol; he talked Plato, -thought Plato, and became almost mad for Plato, and his deepest and most -wonderful mysteries. The celebrated Pico della Mirandola shared his -studies and enthusiasm. It was not, however, till after having written -his "Institutions," that, at the advice of Cosmo, he learnt Greek, the -better to understand his favourite author. He translated, as the first -fruits of this study, the "Hymns of Orpheus" into Latin; he translated, -also, the "Treatise on the Origin of the World," attributed to Hermes -Trismegistus; and, presenting it to Cosimo, he was rewarded by him by -the gift of a _podere_, or small farm, appertaining to his own villa of -Caneggi near Florence, and a house in the city, besides some magnificent -manuscripts of Plato and Plotinus. -[Sidenote: 1468. -Ætat. -35.] -After this Ficino occupied himself by translating the whole of Plato's -works into Latin, which he completed in five years. He afterwards -assumed the clerical profession, and Lorenzo bestowed on him the cure of -two churches, and made him canon of the cathedral of Florence, on which -he gave up his patrimony to his brothers. -[Sidenote: 1475. -Ætat. -42.] -He was a disinterested and blameless man: gentle and agreeable in his -manners, no violent passions nor desires disturbed the calm of his mind. -He loved solitude, and delighted to pass his time in the country, in the -society of his philosophic friends. His health was feeble, and he was -subject to severe indispositions, which could not induce him to diminish -the ardour with which he pursued his studies. Sixtus IV., and Mathew -Corvino, king of Hungary, tried to induce him, by magnificent offers, to -take up his abode at their several courts, but he would not quit -Florence. Many foreigners, particularly from Germany, visited Italy for -the express purpose of seeing him, and studying under him. He died on -the first of October, 1499, at the age of sixty-six. In the year 1521, a -marble statue was erected in Florence to his memory. - - - - -GIOVANNI PICO DELLA MIRANDOLA - - -As the name of Pico della Mirandola has been mentioned, it is impossible -not to bestow some attention on a man who was the glory and admiration -of Italy. Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, Conte della Concordia, was born -in the year 1463; his father, Gian Francesco Pico, was lord of Mirandola -and Concordia; his mother's name was Julia Boiarda. From his earliest -years he manifested an extraordinary understanding and memory: he was -naturally disposed to literary and poetic pursuits; but at the age of -fourteen, being destined, as a younger son, for the church, he was sent -to Bologna to study canon law. After two years spent in this way, he -resolved to give himself up to philosophy, and visited the most -celebrated schools of France and Italy, in which, studying under and -disputing with the professors of highest reputation, he acquired an -erudition that made him the wonder and delight of his contemporaries. To -Greek and Latin he added a knowledge of Hebrew, Chaldaic, and Arabic. He -relates how he was enticed by an impostor to purchase, at a high price, -seventy Hebrew manuscripts, which he was told were genuine, and composed -by order of Esdras, and contained the most recondite mysteries of -religion. These were the books of the Cabala, or of the Traditions, -which the Jews believe to have been collected at the command of Esdras. -At the age of twenty-three Pico visited Rome, during the reign of -Innocent VIII.; and here he published 900 propositions--dialectic, -moral, physical, mathematical, theological, &c. &c.--offering to -dispute with any one concerning them. These propositions still exist -among his works, a sorrowful monument of the pedantry of the age, which -could turn aside so admirable an understanding, from loftier and more -useful studies, to the subtilties and frivolities of scholastic -arguments. But, in those days, they caused Pico to be considered -something wonderful, and almost divine. Yet they led him into annoyance, -as envy caused other learned men to denounce thirteen among the -propositions to be heretical, and he wrote a long apology to clear -himself. This rather increased his difficulties; twice he was cited -before the papal tribunal, but was each time pronounced innocent. This -persecution caused him to reform his life. Handsome, young, rich, and of -attractive manners, he had hitherto enjoyed the pleasures usual to his -period of life; but henceforth he gave himself up to piety, burning his -love verses, and devoting himself to theology and philosophy. He spent -the last years of his life at Florence, in the society of Lorenzo and -his friends. He was beside Lorenzo at his last moments; and, in a -cheerful conversation with him, that amiable man spent his last hours, -saying, that he should meet death with more satisfaction after this -interview. Pico has been praised by every writer for his beneficence and -generosity; he died in the year 1494, in his thirty-second year only. - - - - -ANGELO POLIZIANO - - -Politian formed a third, and was the dearest of Lorenzo's friends. He -was born at Monte Pulciano, a small town not far from Florence; he was -named Angelo, and his father was called Benedetto di Cini. The son -adopted the place of his birth for a surname, changing Pulciano into the -more euphonic appellation of Poliziano. He was born on the 24th of July, -1454: his father was poor, which occasioned him in his youth to call -himself Angelo Basso. Brought to Florence during his childhood, he -studied under the most celebrated scholars of the day, Cristofero -Landino, and Giovanni Agyropylo. It is uncertain whether he derived this -advantage from his father's care, or from the kindness of Lorenzo de' -Medici, as it is not known at what age he first became known to that -munificent patron. His own words are, "From boyhood almost I was brought -up in that asylum of virtue, the palace of the great Lorenzo de' Medici, -prince of his flourishing republic of Florence."[80] These words -coincide with the general idea, that at a very early age he attracted -the notice of Lorenzo by his poem entitled, "Giostra di Giuliano de' -Medici," written to celebrate the first tournament of Giuliano, as Luca -Pulci had composed another in honour of that of Lorenzo. This poem -consists of 1400 lines, and yet is left unfinished; breaking off at the -moment that the tournament is about to begin. It commences by an address -to Lorenzo, and then goes on to describe the youthful occupations of -Giuliano, his carelessness of female beauty, and the subduing of his -heart by the lovely Simonetta. A description of Venus and the island of -Cyprus is introduced: it concludes abruptly, as is often the case with -youthful attempts. Yet the beauty and variety of the ideas, and -smoothness and elegance of the versification, render it doubtful to -critics whether it was written at so early an age as fourteen. At least -it must cause regret that he afterwards applied himself to compositions -in Latin: for though his poetry in that language has a life and vigour -which distinguishes it from any other of his age, yet it must always -fall short of the genuine flow of thought, in which a poet so easily -indulges when he adopts his native tongue. - -From the period that he took up his abode in Lorenzo's palace, he -received the instructions of the most celebrated men of the age, and his -progress showed his aptitude to learn. He enjoyed here also the society -of Lorenzo's accomplished mother, Lucretia Tornabuoni, a lover of -poetry, and herself a poetess. Lorenzo afterwards appointed him tutor to -his children; but he did not agree so well with Mona Clarice. When -Lorenzo was engaged in the hazardous war that disturbed the beginning -of his political life, he sent his wife and children to Pistoia, with -Politian as tutor, who wrote frequent letters to Lorenzo, with accounts -of the well-being and occupations of his family. "Piero," he writes, -"never leaves my side, nor I his. I should like to be useful to you in -greater things; but since this is entrusted to me, I willingly undertake -it."--"All your family are well. Piero studies moderately; and we wander -through the town to amuse ourselves. We visit the gardens, of which this -city is full, and sometimes the library of Maestro Zambino, where I have -found several good Greek and Latin books. Giovanni[81] rides on his pony -all day long, followed by numbers of people. Mona Clarice is well in -health; but takes pleasure in nothing but the good news she receives -from you, and seldom quits the house." In another letter he asks, that -more power may be given to him over the studies of the boys:--"As for -Giovanni, his mother employs him in reading the Psalter, which I by no -means commend. Whilst she declined interfering with him, it is wonderful -how he got on." Monna Clarice was not better pleased with the tutor than -he with her. She writes to her husband--"I wish you would not make me -the fable of Francho, as I was of Luigi Pulci; and that Messer Angelo -should not say that he remains in my house in spite of me. I told you, -that if you wished it, I was satisfied that he should stay, though I -have suffered a thousand impertinences from him. If it is your will, I -am patient; but I cannot believe that it should be so." Thus situated, -Politian lamented the absence of Madonna Lucretia from Pistoia, and -complained to her of the solitude he endured there. "I call it -solitude," he says, in a letter written at this time to Lucretia, "for -Monsignore shuts himself up in his room, with thought for his only -companion; and I always find him so sorrowful and anxious, that it -increases my melancholy to be with him: and when I remain alone, weary -of study, I am agitated by the thoughts of pestilence and war, regret -for the past and fear for the future; nor have I any one with whom to -share my reveries. I do not find my dear Mona Lucretia in her room, to -whom I could pour forth my complaints, and I die of ennui."[82] - -At the age of twenty-nine, he was appointed to the professorship of -Greek and Latin eloquence in the university of Florence. Happy in the -friendship of his patron, his life was disturbed only by literary -squabbles, in which he usually conducted himself with forbearance and -dignity. He was held in high repute throughout Italy, and received -preferment in the church, and on one occasion was sent ambassador to the -papal court. - -His life for many years was one of singular good fortune and happiness: -adversity ensued on the death of Lorenzo. -[Sidenote: 1492. -Ætat. -38.] -There is a long letter of his to Jacopo Antiquario[83], which describes -the last days of his beloved patron in affecting and lively terms. He -speaks of the counsels he gave his son, and his interview with his -confessor, during which he prepared himself for death with astonishing -calmness and fortitude. On one occasion he made some enquiry of the -servants, which Politian answered,--"Recognising my voice," he writes, -"and looking kindly on me, as he ever did, 'O Angelo,' said he, 'are you -there? and stretching out his languid arms, clasped tightly both my -hands. I could not repress my sobs and tears, yet, trying to conceal -them, I turned my face away; while he, without being at all agitated, -still held my hands: but when he found that I could not speak for -weeping, by degrees and naturally he set me free, and I hurried into the -near cabinet, and gave vent to my grief and tears." - -The disasters that befel the Medici family after the death of Lorenzo, -are supposed to have broken Politian's heart. The presumption and -incapacity of Piero caused him and all who bore his name to be exiled. -The French troops at that time invaded Italy under Charles VIII.: they -entered Florence, and, in conjunction with the ungrateful citizens, -plundered and destroyed the palace of the Medici; and the famous -Laurentian library was dispersed and carried off in the tumult. Politian -had composed a pathetic Latin monody on Lorenzo.[84] - - -"Who from perennial streams shall bring, -Of gushing floods a ceaseless spring? -That through the day in hopeless woe, -That through the night my tears may flow. -As the reft turtle mourns his mate, -As sings the swan his coming fate, -As the sad nightingale complains, -I pour my anguish and my strains. -Oh! wretched, wretched past relief; -O grief! beyond all other grief!" - - -While singing these verses, after Lorenzo's death, afflicted at the sad -loss they commemorated, and by the adverse events which followed, a -spasm of grief seized him, his heart suddenly broke from excess of -feeling, and he died on the spot. He died on the 24th of September, -1494, having just completed his 40th year, and having survived his -illustrious friend little more than two years. - - - - -BERNARDO PULCI - - -More celebrated as an Italian poet than Politian, is Luigi Pulci, author -of "Morgante Maggiore." Very little is known of his private history. -There were three brothers of this family, which is one of the most -ancient in Florence, since it carried back its origin to one of the -French families who settled in that city in the time of Charlemagne: -their fortunes, however, were decayed. Bernardo, the elder, wrote an -elegy on Cosimo de' Medici; and another very sweet and graceful sonnet -on the death of Simonetta, whom Giuliano de' Medici loved. He translated -the Eclogues of Virgil into Italian, and wrote other pastoral poetry. - - - - -LUCA PULCI - - -Luca Pulci wrote the "Giostra di Lorenzo," before mentioned; various -poetic epistles, and two longer poems; one called the "Driadeo d' -Amore," a pastoral founded on mythological fables; and the other, the -"Ciriffo Calvaneo," a romantic narrative poem, deficient in that -interest and poetic excellence necessary to attract readers in the -present day. - - - - -LUIGI PULCI - - -Luigi Pulci is the most celebrated of the brothers. It was at the -instigation of Lucrezia Tornabuoni, mother of Lorenzo de' Medici, who -has been before mentioned for her talents and love of literature, that -he wrote the "Morgante Maggiore;" and Bernardo Tasso, father of the -great poet, relates that he read the cantos, as they were written, at -the table of Lorenzo.[85] Nothing is known of the latter part of Luigi -Pulci's life. Alessandro Zilioli, in his inedited "Memoirs of Italian -Poets," cited by Apostolo Zeno, narrates that Pulci died in a state of -penury at Padua, and that, from the impiety of his writings, he was -denied the rites of Christian burial; but he is the only writer who -mentions this, and no great faith can be reposed in him. - -The poem of "Morgante Maggiore" has excited much discussion, as to -whether it is intended to be considered a burlesque or serious poem. -There is little of what is absolutely tragic; but much that is romantic -and interesting, mingled, as in the tragedies of Shakspeare, with -comedy. It is true that Pulci, while he relates wonders, does so in a -language so colloquial, as to detract from the dignity of his heroes and -the majesty of the adventures recounted; but in this he rather imitates -than travesties real life, and especially the life of the chivalrous -ages, during which there was so strange a mixture of the grand and the -ridiculous. While reading the poem, it seems difficult to understand the -foundation of the dispute, of whether it be impious, and whether it be -burlesque: it is at once evident that the serious parts are intended to -be elevated and tragic. Dr. Panizzi's essay is clear and decisive on -this point; and with him we may quote Ugo Foscolo, who says, that "the -comic humour of the Italian narrative poems arises from the contrast -between the constant endeavours of the writers to adhere to the forms -and subjects of the popular story-tellers, and the efforts made, at the -same time, by the genius of those writers, to render these materials -interesting and sublime." Yet, doubtless. Pulci, as well as other -writers of romantic narrative poems, introduces comedy, or, rather, -farce, designedly. Tasso alone, in his "Gerusalemme," adhered to classic -forms, and preserved the elevation of epic majesty, unmingled with wit -and ridicule. - -The origin of the romantic tales of Charlemagne and his Paladins, made -so popular by Ariosto, and celebrated by Pulci, Boiardo, and other -poets, has been much treated of. Earlier than these were "The Adventures -of the Knights of the Round Table of King Arthur." French authors have -asserted that these also are founded on stories of Charlemagne; but Dr. -Panizzi asserts them to be of Welsh origin: he quotes Marie de France, -who declares that she translated several _fabliaux_ from British -originals; and Chaucer, who, in the "Franklin's Tale," says-- - - -"These olde gentil Bretons in hir dayes -Of diverse adventures maden layes, -Rimeyed in hir firste Breton tongue; -Which layes with hir instruments they songe, -Or elles redden him for hir pleasure." - - -The long narrative romances of Amadis of Gaul and Palmerin of England -(which the curate saved out of the general burning of Don Quixote's -library) are supposed to be founded on various old lays and tales put -together in regular narration. In the same way, the adventures of the -French knights may be supposed to be founded on songs and romances -composed to celebrate favourite heroes. The authority perpetually quoted -by them all is archbishop Turpin. This romance is supposed to have been -written during the time of the first crusade: pope Calistus II. quotes -it in a bull dated 1122, and pronounces it to be genuine. From this, as -from one source, the Italians drew, or pretended to draw, the various -adventures of their heroes. In all their poems these are the same, and -their peculiar characters are preserved; yet many of these personages -are not even mentioned by Turpin: the events of his book are the wars of -Charlemagne in Spain against the Saracens, and the defeat of the -Paladins at Roncesvalles, through the treachery of Gano. - -Milone, a distant relative of Charlemagne, and Bertha, the emperor's -sister, were the parents of Orlando. His childhood was spent in -obscurity and hardships, owing to the banishment of Milone and his wife -when their marriage was discovered. He was clothed by the charity of -four young friends, who brought cloth to cover him: two bought white, -and two red; whence Orlando adopted his coat of arms, del quartiere. -Charlemagne saw him on his road to Rome, Orlando introducing himself to -his imperial uncle's notice by stealing a plate of meat for his mother. -On this he was recognised; castles and lands were bestowed on him, he -became the prop of the throne, and married Alda, or Aldabella, who was -also connected with the royal family. - -The personage who ranks next to him in celebrity is his cousin Rinaldo -of Montalbano. Montalbano, or Montauban, is a city on the banks of the -Tarn, near its junction with the Garonne. It is said to have been built -in 1144, after the date of archbishop Turpin's book, who makes no -mention of it or its lord. It is a stronghold; and, even now, an old -fortress, in the most ancient part of it, is called le Chateau de -Renaud. Aymon, duke of Dordona, had four sons; the eldest was Rinaldo, -who, having, in a transport of rage, killed Charlemagne's nephew -Berthelot with a blow of a chess-board, was, with all his family, except -his father, banished and outlawed. They betook themselves to the forests -and the lives of banditti; and, proceeding to Gasgony, Yon, king of -Bordeaux, gave his sister Clarice in marriage to Rinaldo, and permitted -him to build the castle of Montauban. After several disasters, he went -to the Holy Land, and, on his return, made peace with the emperor. The -machinery of these poems is chiefly conducted, in the first place, by -the treachery of Gano of Mayence, who is perpetually trusted by -Charlemagne, and perpetually betrays him, turning his malice principally -against the celebrated warriors of his court, while they are protected -by Rinaldo's cousin Malagigi, or Maugis, son of Beuves, or Buovo, of -Aygremont. Malagigi was brought up by the fairy Orianda, and became a -great enchanter. To vary the serious characters of the drama, Astolfo, -the English cousin of Orlando, being equally descended with him from -Charles Martel, is introduced. Astolfo is a boaster: he is perpetually -undertaking great feats, which he is unable to perform; but he is -generous, and brave to foolhardiness, courteous, gay, and singularly -handsome. - -The family of the heroes of romance has been the more dilated upon, as -it serves as an introduction to all the poems. But to return to Pulci, -who is immediately before us. - -His poem wants the elevation, the elegance, and idealism of Boiardo and -Ariosto; but it is not on that account merely burlesque: it has been -supposed to be impious, on account of each chapter being addressed to -the Divinity, or, more frequently, to the Virgin. But in those days men -were on a much more familiar footing than now with the objects of their -worship; and, even at present, in purely catholic countries,--in Italy, -for example,--the most sacred names are alluded to in a way which sounds -like blasphemy to our ears, but which makes an integral part of their -religion. There is but one passage in the "Morgante," hereafter to be -noticed, which really savours of unbelief. Thus, as seriously, or, at -least, with as little feeling of blasphemy, as an alderman says grace -before a turtle feast. Pulci begins his poem[86]:-- - - -"In the beginning was the Word next God; -God was the Word, the Word no less was he: -This was in the beginning, to my mode -Of thinking, and without him nought could be. -Therefore, just Lord! from out thy high abode, -Benign and pious, bid an angel flee, -One only, to be my companion, who -Shall help my famous, worthy, old song through. - -"And thou, O Virgin! daughter, mother, bride -Of the same Lord, who gave to you each key -Of heaven and hell, and every thing beside, -The day thy Gabriel said, 'All hail!' to thee; -Since to thy servants pity's ne'er denied, -With flowing rhymes, a pleasant style and free; -Be to my verses then benignly kind, -And to the end illuminate my mind." - -LORD BYRON's _Translation of Canto I. of Pulci._ - - -The scope of the poem is then, in true epic fashion, summed up -in a few lines[87]:-- - - -"Twelve paladins had Charles in court, of whom -The wisest and most famous was Orlando; -Him traitor Gan conducted to the tomb -In Roncesvalles, as the villain plann'd too, -While the horn rang so loud, and knell'd the doom -Of their sad rout, though he did all knight can do; -And Dante in his comedy has given -To him a happy seat with Charles in heaven." - ---_Id. ibid._ - - -The poet then introduces the immediate object of the poem. On Christmas -day Charlemagne held his court, and the emperor was over-glad to see all -his noble Paladins around him. His favour shown towards Orlando excited -the spleen of Gano, who openly attacked him as too presumptuous and -powerful. Orlando overhearing his words, and perceiving Charlemagne's -ready credulity, drew his sword in a rage, and would have killed the -slanderer, had not Ulivieri interposed. On this Orlando quits Paris, -full of grief and rage, and goes forth to wander over the world in -search of adventures. His first enterprise is undertaken in behalf of a -convent, besieged by three giants, who amused themselves by throwing -fragments of rock and trees torn up by the roots, into the courts and -garden of the monastery, which kept the poor monks in perpetual alarm. -Notwithstanding their dissuasions, Orlando conceives this to be an -adventure worthy of him: he goes out against the pagan and monstrous -assailants. He kills two in single combat, and then goes to seek the -fiercest and mightiest of the three, Morgante. This ferocious giant has -retired, meanwhile, to a cavern of his own fashioning, and was dreaming -uneasily of a serpent who came to slay him, which was only defeated by -his having recourse to the name of the Christian Saviour. This disposed -him to submission and conversion, and Orlando, delighted with these good -dispositions, embraces and baptizes him. The monks are very grateful for -their deliverance, and desirous to keep their preserver; but Orlando, -tired of idleness, takes a kind and affectionate leave of the abbot, -whom he discovers to be a cousin of his own, and departs with his -convert in search of adventures. - -Meanwhile, Rinaldo, enraged at his cousin's departure, and the -partiality displayed by the emperor for the traitor Gano, leaves the -court with Ulivieri and Dudone in search of the wanderer. They meet with -a variety of adventures, and join him at last in the court of king -Caradoro, whom they aid in his war with king Manfredonio, who demanded, -at the sword's point, the beautiful Meridiana, daughter of Caradoro, as -his wife. Manfredonio is defeated. The verses that describe his final -departure, at the persuasion of Meridiana, and the force of love which -caused him to submit to her decree of banishment, forms one of the -prettiest episodes of the Morgante. Meridiana falls in love with -Ulivieri, who had delivered her: he converts her to Christianity; but -this does not prevent him from following the example of the pious -Æneas, and deserting her a short time after. - -Gano was not content with the dispersion and exile of the Paladins: he -sent messengers to Caradoro and Manfredonio, telling who the wanderers -were, and inciting these monarchs to destroy them. Besides this, he -invited Erminione, a Saracen king of Denmark, to attack France while -unprotected by its bravest warriors. The king succeeds so well, that, -besieging Paris, he took prisoner all the remaining Paladins; and poor -Charlemagne, who cuts a sorry figure throughout the Morgante, sighs for -the return of Orlando and Rinaldo. Gano triumphed, and offered one of -the enemy's generals to deliver up Montalbano to him by treachery; -Lionfante nobly refuses, and feels inclined to put the traitor to death; -he is saved by the intercession of the family of Chiaramonte, who feared -that if things were pushed to an extremity with him, his followers would -revolt, and endanger the empire. - -Orlando and his friends hearing in the course of their wanderings of the -danger of Charlemagne, returned with a large army to deliver him. Gano -wants to persuade the emperor that these allies are enemies in disguise; -but the strength and valour of the most renowned Paladins are not to be -mistaken. The magic arts of Malagigi the enchanter persuade Lionfante of -the truth of the Christian religion: he is converted, and the war comes -to an end, to the great discontent of the indefatigable Gano, who -instantly begins to stir up another, informing Caradoro of the seduction -of Meridiana, who sends a giant ambassador to complain to Charlemagne. -The ambassador behaves with extreme impertinence, and is killed by -Morgante. - -Rinaldo, who is rather quarrelsome, has a dispute with Ulivieri, on -which, at the instigation of Gano, he is banished; and he and Astolfo -become bandits. Astolfo is taken by treachery, and sentenced to be -hanged. Poor fellow! Astolfo, who is always good-humoured and -courageous, is a kind of scape-goat, for ever in humiliating and -dangerous situations. He is now worse off than ever; but while ascending -the gallows, and while the halter is fitting, a tumult is made to save -him, and Charlemagne, overpowered, to preserve his life and kingdom, -pardons him and Rinaldo, and banishes Gano. But this was only done to -gain time. The emperor hates the race of Chiaramonte in his heart; and -Ricciardetto, the youngest brother of the house, being taken prisoner -while Rinaldo is absent, Charlemagne resolves to hang him. The Paladins -were highly indignant, and Orlando left the court; but Ricciardetto was -saved by his brother Rinaldo, who drove the emperor from his throne, and -forcing him to take refuge in one of Gano's castles, took possession of -the sovereignty himself; till, hearing that Orlando was imprisoned and -sentenced to die by a pagan king of Persia, he restores the emperor to -his throne, causes Gano to be banished, and sets out to deliver his -cousin, accompanied by Ulivieri and Ricciardetto. He succeeds in his -attempt by means of Antea, the daughter of the king of Babylon, who -falls in love with him. It is impossible to follow all the intricacies -of the adventures and the wars that ensue, the interest of which is -derived from the detail and expression, both lost in a brief abstract. -Antea, while she continues to be devotedly attached to Rinaldo, is, on -some treacherous suggestion of Gano, induced to enter France, and takes -possession of the castle of Montalbano. Rinaldo is sent by her father -against the old man of the mountain, whom he takes prisoner and converts -to Christianity: and Orlando, who is engaged in fighting and conquering -whole armies, hurries to deliver Ricciardetto and Ulivieri, who are -going to be hanged by Antea's father. - -Morgante had been left behind in France, but sets out to rejoin Orlando, -and in his way to Babylon falls in with Margutte. Margutte is a singular -invention, a caprice of the poet. Pulci resolved to paint a fellow -without conscience, religion, humanity, or care for aught but the -grossest indulgences of the senses. Lord Byron has imitated a part of -his confession of faith in one of his poems:-- - - -"I know not," quoth the fellow, "who or what -He is, nor whence he came,--and little care; -But this I know, that this roast capon's fat, -And that good wine ne'er wash'd down better fare." - -_Don Juan_, canto III. v. 4. - - -"My name is Margutte," says this strange being; "I was desirous of -becoming a giant, but half way I repented, so that I am only ten feet -high. I neither believe in black nor blue, but in capon, whether it be -boiled or roast, and I have faith sometimes in butter and other good -things; but above all, I put my trust in good wine. I believe in tarts -and tartlets--the one is the mother, the other is the son;"--and he -continues in a style of blasphemy more shocking to our protestant ears -than those of the most pious catholics, who, as has been mentioned, are -apt to allude in very familiar terms to the mysterious and almighty -Beings, whom they do not the less on this account adore, and propitiate -with prayer. - -Margutte's adventures are conducted with a kind of straightforward -wickedness which amuses from its very excess: at an inn, after eating up -all that is to be got,--his appetite is enormous,--and robbing the host, -he sets fire to the house, and departs with Morgante, rejoicing greatly -in his success, and carrying off every thing he could lay his hands -upon. They go travelling on, and meet with various adventures. Morgante -is infinitely amused by his companion, but preserves a gentleness, a -generosity, and kindness of heart, which contrasts agreeably with the -other's unmeasured sensuality. At last, one morning, Morgante, to play -him a trick, draws off Margutte's boots while he is asleep, and hides -them; Margutte looks for them, and at length perceives an ape, who is -putting them on and drawing them off; the sight of the animal thus -engaged so tickles Margutte's fancy, that he laughs till he bursts. -Morgante weeps over him, and buries him in a grotto. The whole episode -of Margutte is distinct from the rest of the work. Pulci allows that it -is not to be found in any of the old songs. Dr. Panizzi supposes, that -under the name of Margutte is concealed some individual well known to -Pulci and his friends, but at variance with them; and therefore made an -object of sarcasm and ridicule. - -We must hurry on to the conclusion of this poem, for the incidents are -so multiplied and various, that it would occupy many pages to give an -account of them. Poor Morgante dies--the gentle Christian giant, the -defender of ladies, and fast friend of Orlando. He is on board a vessel -which is wrecked, and he is saved on the back of a whale, but on landing -is bitten by a crab on the heel: he ridicules the wound; but it proves -fatal, and poor Morgante dies. Gano, a traitor to the end, is sent to -Saragossa to treat with Marsiglio, who having been lately defeated, is -to pay tribute to Charlemagne. He there schemes the destruction of -Orlando, who, is to come slenderly accompanied to Roncesvalles to -receive the tribute. The traitor arranges with the king that he shall -advance accompanied by 600,000 men; who, divided into three armies, -shall successively attack the Paladin and his few troops. One of the -best passages of Pulci is the scene in which the treacherous attack of -Roncesvalles is determined on between Marsiglio and Gano. After a solemn -dinner they walked into the park, and sat down by a fountain in a -solitary place. With the hesitation and confusion of traitors they are -discussing the mode of destroying the famous Paladin, when heaven gives -signs of anger by various and terrifying prodigies. Marsiglio's seat is -upset; a laurel near is struck by a thunderbolt; the sun is obscured; a -violent storm and earthquake fill them with alarm; then a fire breaks -out above their heads, and the waters of the fountain overflowing are -turned to burning blood; while the animals of the park attack each -other. Gano is struck by the fall of a large fruit from a carob tree, -(the tree on which Judas Iscariot is said to have hanged himself); his -hair stands on end, and terror possesses his heart; but revenge is too -burning within him to be quenched by fear, and the plot is proceeded in -notwithstanding these frightful events. Orlando comes to Roncesvalles -with a small force, rather a retinue than an army, to rereceive the -gifts and submission of Marsiglio. The king is not neglectful of his -part; his innumerable armies, one after the other, attack Orlando. The -Paladin and his friends perform prodigies of valour; but, like waves of -the sea, their enemies come on irresistible from their number. Orlando -sees all die around him, and his soul is pierced with grief; yet not -till he feels himself dying will he sound the mighty horn which is to -give Charlemagne notice of his peril. The emperor hears the faint echo -borne on the winds three distinct times, and he and all around him feel -certain that treason is at work and Orlando in danger. They turn pale -with terror, and hasten to the sad spot, where they find the noble -warrior dead. Rinaldo is near him. Rinaldo, at the moment that the -slaughter of Roncesvalles was preparing, was far away in Asia. Malagigi -his cousin puts a devil named Astoroth into a horse, which is to bring -him to his cousin's aid in a few hours. This journey of Rinaldo and the -evil spirit forms a curious episode. They converse together on their way -concerning things divine and infernal. On coming to this passage, the -reader is struck by the lofty tone the poet assumes: there is a mingled -disdain, dignity, and regret in the fallen angel, that moves at once -compassion and respect: he is thus described[88]:-- - - -"This was a demon fell, named Astorot; -No airy sprite, nor wanton fairy he; -His home was down in the infernal grot. -And he was wise and fierce prodigiously." - - -It has been supposed that Pulci did not write this portion of the poem. -Panizzi does not hesitate to give credit to the assertion of Tasso[89], -who declares that it was written by Ficino. But Tasso affirms this -merely upon hearsay, which is slender authority. There is nothing to -which contemporaries are more prone than to discover that an author does -not write his own works. There is nothing in the style of these stanzas -unlike Pulci's best and more serious verses. Rinaldo's journey, thus -accelerated, was however to no purpose in saving his cousin; he could -only assist in his revenge--and the poem concludes with the hanging of -Gano and Marsiglio, archbishop Turpin kindly undertaking to perform the -last office for the king with his own hand, and ties him up to the -famous carob tree. - -The great beauty of the Morgante, besides scenes and passages of pathos -and beauty, is derived from the simple, magnanimous, and tender -character of Orlando. Charlemagne is a doting old man, Gano a traitor, -Rinaldo a violent and headstrong warrior or robber, Astolfo -vainglorious, but all are selfish and erring, except the singleminded -and generous conte di Brava. He is the model of a true -knight,--compassionate, sincere, and valiant: his death is courageous -and pious: he thinks of the grief of the emperor, and the mourning of -his wife Aldabella, and after recommending them to God, he embraces his -famous sword Durlindana, and pressing it to his heart, and comforted by -an angel from God, he fixes his eyes on heaven and expires. - - - - -CIECO DA FERRARA - - -The "Morgante Maggiore" is the first of a series of romantic narrative -poems, which take Charlemagne and his Paladins for the heroes of their -tales. The "Mambriano" of Cieco da Ferrara is one of these. The real -name of the author was Francesco Bello. It has been said that he was -called Cecco or Cieco from his blindness--but Cecco and Cecchino is the -common Tuscan diminutive for Francesco. Little is known of this author, -except the disaster that has already been mentioned, and that he was -poor and lived at Ferrara, and recited the cantos of his poem, as they -were written, at the table of the cardinal Ippolito da Este. -[Sidenote: 1509.] -Tiraboschi quotes from the dedication of Conosciuti, who published the -"Mambriano" after the author's death; who therein begs the cardinal to -take the poem under his care, and with his accustomed benevolence not to -deny that favour to the memory of Francesco, which he so frequently and -liberally bestowed during his life. Tiraboschi adds, that such -expressions do not seem to him to accord with the idea that the poet -lived and died poor. The bounty of a patron is, however, various and -capricious, and, unless it takes the form of an annuity, seldom relieves -the wants of a dependant; and we may take Francesco's word that he was -poor when he says--"The howling of winds and roaring of waves which I -hear now abroad upon our sea, has so shattered the planks of my skiff, -that I lament that I undertook the voyage. On the other side, penury -burthens me with such need, that it seems to me, that I can never -acquire any praise if I do not overcome these winds and storms."[90] His -poem is little read, and has never been translated. We have never met -with it; but from the specimens given by Panizzi, it is evident that he -possessed ease of versification, and a considerable spring of poetic -imagery and invention. - - - - -BURCHIELLO - - -Very little is also known of this poet, whose real name was Domenico. He -is supposed to have been born in Florence: he became free of the company -of barbers in that city in 1432, and exercised his trade in the Contrada -di Calemala. He died at Rome in 1448. His poems are a strange and -capricious mixture of sayings, proverbs, and jokes, most of which are -unintelligible to the Italians of the present day. From them and his -name is derived the word burlesque, to signify a mock tragic style of -expression. - - -[Footnote 78: "Cerchi chi vuol, le pompe, e gli alti honori. -Le piazze, e tempii, e gli edeficii magni, -Le delicie, il tesor, qual accompagni -Mille duri pensier, mille dolori: -Un verde praticel pien di bei fiori, -Un rivolo, che l'herba intorno bagni, -Un angeletto che d' amor si lagni, -Acqueta molto meglio i nostri ardori: -L' ombrare selve, i sassi, e gli alti monti -Gli antri oscuri, e le fere fuggitive, -Qualche leggiadra ninfa paurosa; -Quivi veggo io con pensier vaghi e pronti -Le belle luci, come fossin vivi. -Qui me le toglie or' una, or' altra cosa."] - -[Footnote 79: Tiraboschi.] - -[Footnote 80: Tiraboschi.] - -[Footnote 81: Afterwards Leo X.] - -[Footnote 82: Roscoe's Life of Lorenzo de' Medici, Appendix, -p. 60.] - -[Footnote 83: Tiraboschi.] - -[Footnote 84: We subjoin the whole of the original. The above -verses are from the translation of Mr. Roscoe:-- - -"Quis dabit capiti meo -Aquam? quis oculis meis -Fontem lachrymarum dabit? -Ut nocte fleam, -Ut luce fleam. -Sic turtur viduus solet, -Sic cygnus moriens solet; -Sic luscinia conqueri. -Heu, miser, miser! -O, dolor, dolor! - -"Laurus impetu fulminis -Illa, illa jacet subito; -Laurus omnium celebris, -Musarum choris, -Nympharum choris, -Sub cujus patula coma. -Et Phœbi lyra blandius -Et vox dulcius insonat. -Nunc muta omnia! -Nunc surda omnia! - -"Quis dabit capiti meo -Aquam? quis oculis meis -Fontem lachrymarum dabit? -Ut nocte fleam, -Ut luce fleam. -Sic turtur viduus solet, -Sic cygnus moriens solet, -Sic luscinia conqueri. -Heu, miser, miser! -O, dolor, dolor!"] - -[Footnote 85: Tiraboschi.] - -[Footnote 86: "In principio era il Verbo appresso a Dio; -Ed era Iddio il Verbo, e 'l Verbo lui: -Questo era nel principio, al parer mio; -E nulla si può far sanza costui: -Però, giusto Signor benigno e pio, -Mandami rolo un de gli angeli tui, -Che m' accompagni, e rechimi a memoria -Una famosa antica e degna storia. - -"E tu Vergine, figlia, e madre, e sposa -Di quel Signor, che ti dette le chiave -Del cielo e dell' abisso e d' ogni cosa, -Quel dì che Gabriel tuo ti disse Ave! -Perchè tu se' de' tuo' servi pietosa, -Con dolce rime, e stil grato e soave, -Ajuta i versi miei benignamente, -E'nfino al fine allumina la mente." - -_Morgante Mag._ canto I.] - -[Footnote 87: "Dodici paladini aveva in corte -Carlo; e'l più savio e famoso era Orlando: -Gan traditor lo condusse a la morte -In Roncisvalle un trattato ordinando; -Là dove il corno sonò tanto forte -Dopo la dolorosa rotta, quando -Ne la sua commedia Darte qui dice, -E mettelo con Carlo in ciel felice." - ---_Id. ibid._] - -[Footnote 88: "Uno spirto chiamato è Astarotte, -Molto savio, terribil, molto fero, -Questo si sta giù nel' infernal grotte; -Non è spirito foletto, egli è più nero." - -_Morg. Mag._ XXV. 119.] - -[Footnote 89: Panizzi, Romantic Poetry of the Italians, p. 216.] - -[Footnote 90: "Il fremito de' venti e'l suon dell' onde -Ch' io sento adesso in questo nostro mare, -Han cosi indebolite ambo le sponde -Del legno mio, eh' io ploro il navigare; -Dall' altro canto povertà m'infonde -Tanta necessità, che' l non mi pare -Di poter mai acquistar laude alcuna, -S'io non supero i venti e la fortuna." - -_Marb._, XXVIII. 1. _as quoted by Dr. Panizzi._] - - - - -BOJARDO - - -Matteo Maria Bojardo was of an ancient and noble family. His ancestors -had been counts of Rubiera, a castle between Reggio and Modena, till, in -1433, Feltrino Bojardo, then the head of the family, exchanged it for -Scandiano, a small castle about seven miles from Reggio, at the foot of -the Apennines, and celebrated for its excellent wine. The sovereign -house of Este added to the possessions of the family, and Bojardo was -count of Scandiano, and lord of Aceto, Casalgrande, Gesso, La Toricella, -&c. - -It appears that the poet was born in the castle of Scandiano, about the -year 1434, or a little before. His father was Giovanni, son of Feltrino; -and his mother, Lucia, was sprung of a branch of the famous Strozzi -family, original in Florence. Two of his near relatives, on the mother's -side, were elegant Latin poets. The general outline merely of Bojardo's -life is known there, and such delicate tints as we may catch from his -lyrical poetry. He received a liberal education, and was conversant in -the Greek and Latin languages. He was a vassal of the Este family, and -lived at the court of Borso the first duke of Ferrara, and afterwards of -his successor Ercole, to whom, indeed, he attached himself during the -life of Borso, when it was very uncertain whether he would succeed to -the duchy. The services he performed for this family are nearly the sole -events we collect of his life. -[Sidenote: 1469. -Ætat. -35.] -When the emperor Frederic III. visited Italy, Bojardo was one of the -noblemen sent out to meet and welcome him on his way to Ferrara, -where he was entertained with extraordinary magnificence. -[Sidenote: 1471. -Ætat. -37.] -Borso at this time was only marquis of Ferrara (though duke of Modena -and Reggio), but the pope, Paul II., soon after created him duke of that -city, and Bojardo accompanied him to Rome, when he went thither to -receive the investiture. - -[Sidenote: 1472. -Ætat. -38.] - -Soon after, the poet married Taddea, daughter of the count of Novellara, -of the noble house of Gonzaga. -[Sidenote: 1473. -Ætat. -39.] -He continued to enjoy the kindness and friendship of duke Ercole, who -selected him with other nobles to escort to Ferrara his bride Eleonora, -daughter of the king of Naples. -[Sidenote: 1478. -Ætat. -44.] -He was named by him also governor of Reggio; which place he enjoyed, -except during the short interval when he was governor of Modena, till -the period of his death, which occurred at Reggio on the 20th of -December 1494, at the age of sixty. He was buried in the church of -Scandiano. -[Sidenote: 1481. -Ætat. -47.] -Some traces remain to mark his character. -[Sidenote: 1486. -Ætat. -52.] -He was so mild a governor as to excite indignation of a learned -civilian, Panciroli, who, speaking of him as a magistrate, reproves him -as a man great benignity,--"better fitted to write verses than punish -crimes." -[Sidenote: 1487. -Ætat. -53.] -A contemporary Latin poet says, "that he was not severe to the errors of -love, but kindly gave to others what he desired himself. -He sat, indeed, on the seat of justice, and gave forth laws with a grave -brow; but his countenance was not always severe; day and night he sang -the triumphs of love, and while others studied the laws, he applied -himself to tender poetry." - -His lyrical poetry is extremely beautiful, tender, and spirited, being -characterised by that easy flow of thought and style peculiar to him. -Since the days of Petrarch, it is the fashion to affix one lady's name -as the object of a poet's verses. But, unfortunately, men, whether poets -or not, are apt to change. There are traces of Bojardo's being attached -to at least two ladies: and he married a third. The most passionate of -his verses were written from Rome in 1471, and were addressed to Antonia -Caprara, a beautiful girl of eighteen, who, whether married or not, -shared his affection. Perhaps this lady died; but we do not appear to -have any verses to his wife, whom he married in 1472. - -He was a good classical scholar, and translated the "Golden Ass" of -Apuleius, the history of Herodotus, Halicarnassus, and the "Golden Ass" -of Lucian. He translated, altered, and enlarged the Pomarium of -Ricobaldi, to which, in its new form, he gave the name of the "Imperial -History." It is a sort of chronicle, full of romantic stories, founded -on history and tradition, to which, perhaps, credence was lent at that -time. He wrote also a drama called Timon, founded upon Lucian, which was -among the first specimens of Italian dramas, but it does not appear to -have great merit. He was the author also of Latin eclogues, the language -of which is elegant and spirited. - -His great work, however, is the "Orlando Innamorato," or "Loves of -Orlando," founded on the old romances. His disposition naturally -inclined him to revel in romance, so that it is said that he used, at -Scandiano, to visit the old villagers, and draw from them their -traditionary tales, rewarding them so well for the gratification he -received, that it became a sort of proverb or exclamation of good-will -at that place--"God send Bojardo to your house!" His "Imperial History," -probably gave direction to his invention, which was prolific. He took -Orlando as his hero; but deeming him uninteresting unless in love, he -called into life the beautiful Angelica, whose coquetry, loveliness, and -misfortunes, made sad havoc in Charlemagne's court. Mr. George Rose's -prose translation of the "Orlando Innamorato" gives a spirited abstract -of the story, which must here be more briefly detailed. - -Charlemagne, in the midst of prosperity and glory, held a court at -Paris, at which 22,030 guests were assembled. Before these the beautiful -Angelica presents herself, with her brother Argalia, and four giants as -attendants. Her brother defies the knights to combat. Argalia possessed -an enchanted lance, which throws whoever it touches; and Angelica a -ring, which, on certain occasions, renders the wearer invisible. Every -one fell in love with Angelica, and in particular Orlando and Rinaldo. -Angelica becomes frightened in the midst of the disturbances of the -combats, and disappearing by means of the ring, flies from the scene of -the tournament. She takes refuge in the wood of Ardennes: arriving -fatigued and heated, she drinks hastily of an enchanted fountain, which -causes her to fall in love with the first man she may chance to see; and -then reposing on the flower-enamelled turf, falls asleep. Orlando and -Rinaldo pursue her, as does also her brother Argalia; and Ferrau goes -after him, being at the moment of his flight engaged in combat with him. -Orlando and Rinaldo arrive at Ardennes; but the latter, on entering the -forest, and refreshing himself at a fountain, drinks of water enchanted -by Merlin, which causes him to hate the first woman he shall behold: he -then also lies down, and goes to sleep. Angelica wakes; she rises, -wanders from her place of rest, and comes to the spot where Rinaldo is -reposing. Her love-blinded eyes behold him, and, transported by sudden -and subduing passion, she watches his waking with fondness. He opens his -eyes, and holds in abhorrence the beauty who is gazing upon him, and -flies from her in disdain. Argalia meanwhile arrives in the wood, -pursued by Ferrau; he has lost his enchanted lance; the enemies meet, -and continue the combat. Argalia is slain: while breathing his last, he -implores his enemy to cast him and his armour into the river, that no -trace may remain, of his disgrace. Ferrau agrees, but solicits the loan -of his helmet, he himself being without one, till he can get another: -Argalia consents, and dies; while Ferrau, who is a Saracen, hearing of -the misfortunes of his sovereign Marsiglio, who is attacked by Gradasso, -king of Sericana, gives up the pursuit of Angelica, and sets out for -Spain. Angelica returns to India, and Orlando departs in quest of her. - -Charlemagne goes to the assistance of Marsiglio against Gradasso, who -himself is a wonder of martial prowess, and is attended by an -innumerable army, and several vast and fierce giants. Rinaldo has -returned to court, and accompanies his imperial master: during the -battle that ensues, he encounters Gradasso; but their single combat is -interrupted by the hurry of the fight, and they agree to meet in duel -the next day on foot, in a solitary place by the sea-side. Gradasso's -great object is to win Orlando's sword Durindana, and Rinaldo's horse -Bajardo: the latter is to be his prize, if he overcomes Rinaldo on the -following day. - -Angelica meanwhile, burning with love for Rinaldo, revolves many schemes -for bringing him to her side. She has in her power his cousin Malagigi -(Maugis), who is a great enchanter. She set him at liberty, on condition -that he shall bring Rinaldo to her. Malagigi first tries to persuade his -cousin; but the chilly waters have wrought too powerfully, and the very -name of Angelica is odious to him. Malagigi has recourse to stratagem. -When Rinaldo keeps his appointment the next morning with Gradasso, he -finds the sea-shore solitary: a little boat, tenantless, is anchored -near the beach. Malagigi sends a fiend, in the shape of Gradasso, who, -after a mock combat, take refuge in the pinnace, followed by Rinaldo. -The boat drifts out to sea, the fiend vanishes, and Rinaldo is hurried -away across the ocean, till he arrives near a palace and garden, where -the vessel lightly drifts on shore. - -Orlando wanders about to find Angelica, and hears that she is at -Albracca, a castle of Catay. But he is unable to reach her, detained by -a variety of adventures and enchantments, through which he is at last -deprived of all memory or knowledge, and brought to a magnificent -palace, where he is left. Charlemagne meanwhile is freed from Gradasso -by means of Argalia's enchanted lance, which, falling into Astolfo's -possession, he works miracles, unhorses the mighty king, and a peace -being agreed upon, he sets out in search of Orlando and Rinaldo. Poor -Rinaldo is tempted meanwhile to soften towards Angelica, but in vain. -The luxuries of an enchanted palace are wasted on him, and he is exposed -to the most frightful dangers, from which Angelica delivers him; but -still he scorns and leaves her, while she returns disconsolate to -Albracca. - -Her hand is sought by various princes and nobles; and in particular by -Agricane, king of Tartary: she refuses them all; and Agricane, resolved -to win her, besieges her in Albracca. She is defended by various of the -Paladins, and goes herself with her ring in quest of Orlando, whom she -restores to his senses. He gladly hastens to her assistance; he kills -Agricane in a single contest, and in reward, as she wishes to get rid of -him, Angelica sends him on a distant and perilous expedition. - -The poem then enters on a new series of adventures, arising from the -revenge which Agramante wishes to take on Orlando for having slain his -father, king Trojano, sixteen years before. We are now introduced to -several new heroes of romance, destined to play a distinguished part in -the poem of Ariosto, as well as in the present one. There is Ruggeri, -whose name is adopted from the Norman knight Ruggeri, who had been king -of Sicily; and there is Rodomonte, the bravest, fiercest, and wildest of -all warriors. Ruggeri's presence is absolutely needed for the success of -Agramante's expedition; but he is imprisoned in a castle, whence he can -only be delivered by Angelica's magic ring. A thievish dwarf, named -Brunello, contrives to steal it from her, and Ruggeri is liberated. The -expedition embarks for France, where Rodomonte, impatient of delays, had -already arrived, and devastates Provence; while Marsiglio is induced, by -the old traitor Gano, to invade France from the Pyrenees. - -Orlando, returning from his adventure, finds Angelica besieged by -Marfisa, and in great peril. He mentions, that Rinaldo is in France: the -name has not lost its influence. She resolves to abandon Albracca; and, -having lost her ring, is glad to be protected by Orlando, who conducts -her in safety to France; and who, during the long journey, never -mentions his passion, nor annoys her with any manifestation of it; -though she, by her former coquetry, might well expect importunity: but -his generous and fond heart renders him silent, that he may not disturb -her lovely, serene countenance; - - -"Per non turbare quel bel viso sereno." - - -Poor Angelica feels not less for Rinaldo; but, arriving at Ardennes, she -is delivered from her misery, by drinking of the fountain, that turns -all her love to hate; while Rinaldo, also arriving, drinks of the -love-in-spiring waters, and with great joy seeing the lady, wonders at -his past dislike, and congratulates himself now on her passion. He -addresses her with tenderness; but is repulsed with scorn, while her -champion Orlando is at hand to defend her. He challenges his cousin, and -they fight; but Charlemagne, hearing of their arrival in his kingdom, -seizes on the lady, and forces the knights to be reconciled, privately -promising to both Angelica as a prize, if they will exert themselves -during the impending battle with Agramante. The poem now relates the -invasion of Agramante, of Mandricardo, son of the slain Agricane, of -Gradasso, and Marsiglio. A great battle takes place, in which the -Saracens are triumphant, Orlando being absent. Rinaldo goes in pursuit -of his horse Bajardo; while his sister Bradamante, a brave heroine, -falls in love with Ruggeri, and withdraws from the field. Charlemagne -retires to Paris, and is besieged by the whole body of Saracens. The -poem ends with the commencement of a sort of episode, in which -Fiordespina, mistaking the sex of Bradamante, falls in love with her. In -the middle of this, the poet is interrupted. The sound of arms, which -betokens the invasion of the French, and the terror and misery of Italy, -call him from his task of fiction, to be the witness of real woes. He -promises, if the stars will permit, to continue his narration another -time. This time never came, for the French invaded Italy in 1494; and it -was in about the same year that Bojardo died. - -This is but a brief abstract of a poem interspersed with numerous -episodes, beautiful descriptions, and interesting reverses. The poet -never flags. An untired spirit animates every stanza, every verse: the -life, the energy, the variety, the fertility of invention, are truly -surprising, and far transcend Ariosto. But minuter criticism is -deferred, till an account is given of Berni and his rifacimento. - - - - -BERNI - - -Francesco Berni was born at Lamporecchio, in the Val di Nievole, towards -the end of the fifteenth century. The first eighteen years of his life -were spent at Florence; whence he transferred himself to Rome, and -entered on the service of his relation, the cardinal Bibbiena. On the -death of the cardinal, he attached himself to the nephew, Angelo Divizio -Bibbiena. He was at one time obliged to leave Rome, on account of some -adventure of gallantry[91]; and afterwards entered the service of -Giberti, the papal Datario, with whom he remained seven years, -accompanying him whenever Giberti's duties as a bishop took him to -Verona. But Berni was a poet, and fond of pleasure, and fortune could -not obtain from him the industry which might have advanced him with his -patrons. His vivacity and his poetry were agreeable in society; he -became courted as a literary man; and he was a distinguished member of -the academy of the Vignaiuoli, or vine-dressers, composed of the first -men in Rome. This learned association was established by a Mantuan -gentleman, Oberto Strozzi. The members assumed names adopted from the -vineyard; and its feasts became famous all over Italy. Berni was at Rome -when it was plundered by the Colonna party in 1526, and was robbed of -every thing: at the same time he was struck with horror at the cruelties -committed by the invaders. He mentions them with horror in the "Orlando -Innamorato." When describing the sacking of a town, he says, that his -unhappy eyes saw similar outrages perpetrated in Rome. He quitted the -service of the Datario after this, and retired to Florence, where he -lived tranquilly, being possessed of a canonicate, which had before been -given him in the cathedral of that city, and enjoying the protection of -cardinal Ippolito de' Medici, and of the duke Alexander. There is a -story of his being solicited by each of these princes to poison the -other, which is not supported by dates or facts. Alexander was -afterwards murdered by Lorenzino de' Medici. The cardinal Ippolito had -died before: Alexander was accused of having poisoned him; but -accusations of this sort were so frequent at that time, that, according -to historians and the popular voice, no man of any eminence ever died a -natural death. Berni is said to have died on the 26th of July, 1536. - -Berni possessed, to an extraordinary degree, a liveliness of -imagination, and a facetiousness, which caused him to invent a new style -of poetry, light, witty, but highly fanciful, which became the delight -of his contemporaries. Mr. Stebbing speaks with great disapprobation of -him, saying, "that we shall not be guilty of much injustice, if we -regard him as one of those ecclesiastical Epicureans of the sixteenth -century, whose infidelity and licentiousness branded them with infamy." -His minor poems are witty, but indecent: they appear to be written, says -Tiraboschi, with ease and rapidity, yet the original manuscripts show -that he blotted and corrected them with care. He wrote also Latin -elegies; and came nearer to Catullus, the critics tell us, than any -other poet of the age. - -The work by which he is known to us, is the Rifacimento of Bojardo's -"Orlando Innamorato," which was not published till after his death. He -occupied himself with this poem at Verona, while in the service of the -Datario. He addresses the Po in one of the cantos of the poem, begging -of it to restrain its rapid course while he writes beside its banks; and -yet at this very time his letters are full of complaints of the -occupations that take up all his time. - -It is a curious subject to enquire, what the fault was in Bojardo's -poem, that rendered it necessary that it should be re-written. Berni was -not the first to discover this, as Domenichi had already altered the -style of every stanza; yet his rifacimento had not caused it to be -popular. Meanwhile Ariosto wrote a continuation to it, which he named -the "Orlando Furioso" and that became the delight and glory of Italy. -The choice of subject in these poets is admirable. When Milton thought -of making king Arthur and his knights the heroes of a poem, he selected -a subject which was devoid of any quick interest to his countrymen: wars -with France and civil struggles had caused the British name to be -forgotten. But the Mahometans were still the terror of Italy. After the -taking of Constantinople, they pressed near upon the peninsula; Venice -was kept in check, and at one time Ancona was actually taken by them. -Every Italian heart felt triumph in the overthrow of a Pagan and -Saracen, and warmed with interest when it was related how they were -driven from France. Bojardo made choice of the subject, and he added -life to it, by the introduction of Angelica. His invention, his poetic -fervour, his ceaseless flow of fancy, were admirable; yet he was -forgotten. Many of Ariosto's episodes are more tedious, and they are -less artificially introduced; but Ariosto was a greater poet: his style -is perfectly beautiful, and his higher flights entitle him to a very -high rank among the writers of verse. Perhaps, in the whole range of -narrative poetry, there is no passage to compete with the progress of -Orlando's madness. - -Berni evidently appreciated Ariosto's merits, and he saw in Bojardo's a -groundwork that emulated them. His faults are doubtless greater than we -can judge, since style alone occasioned his want of popularity: he has -many Lombardisms; and I heard a learned Tuscan say, that nothing to -their refined ear was so intolerable as the pronunciation of the north. -Style, however, was his only fault; and Berni, in altering that, brought -at once to light the beauty of the poem: he changed no incident, no -sentiment, scarcely a thought; stanza by stanza he remodelled the -expression, and this was all; yet it would almost seem that he thus -communicated a Promethean spark. Nothing can be more false than the -accusation, that he added any thing licentious to the poem. Tiraboschi -even gives credit to this idea; but, on the contrary, his expressions -are always more reserved than those of the original. The comparison may -easily be made, by collating, in the two authors, the passages which -describe the meeting of Bradamante and Fiordelisa, the welcome given by -Angelica to Orlando when he arrives at Albracca, and the journey of -these two from Albracca to Provence; and the above assertion will at -once be proved; nor is it true that Berni turned a serious poem into a -burlesque. He added lightness and gaiety, but seldom any ridicule. It is -now easy, since Dr. Panizzi's edition of the original poem, to compare -it with the rifacimento: an Italian alone can be a competent judge; but -it is easy for any one to see the difference between the earnest -language of Bojardo, and the graceful wit of his improver. We will give, -as a specimen of the usual style of his alterations, two stanzas, -selected by chance in the poem: they describe the death of Agricane. -Bojardo writes thus, speaking of Orlando, when his adversary, having -received a mortal wound, asks him to baptize him[92]:-- - -"He had his face covered with tears, and he dismounted on the ground: he -took the wounded king in his arms, and placed him on the marble of the -fountain: he was never weary of weeping with him, entreating for pardon -with a gentle voice. Then he baptized him with water from the fountain, -praying God for him with joined hands. He remained but a short time, -finding his face and whole person cold, whence he perceived that he was -no more. He leaves him on the marble of the fountain, all armed as he -was, with his sword in his hand, and his crown, and then he turned -towards the horse, and thought that he recognised Bajardo." - -Thus alters Berni[93]:-- - -"Having his face covered with tears, the count dismounts from -Brigliadoro: he took the wounded king in his arms, and placed him on the -brink of the fountain, entreating, while he kisses and embraces him, -that all past injuries might be forgotten. Not able to say yes, the king -inclines his head, and Orlando baptized him with water; and, at last, he -found his face and whole person cold, whence he judged that he was no -more; wherefore he left him on the verge of the fountain, all armed as -he was, with sword in hand, and with his crown: then, turning his look -upon his horse, it seemed to him that he recognised Bajardo." - -This, of course, is a very clumsy mode of showing the difference; and -yet it gives the mere English reader an idea of the extent of Berni's -alterations. - -But, although he did not materially change either event or thought, he -added to the poem; and the real merits of Berni became very evident in -the introductory stanzas which he appended to each canto. It seems to me -that these have never been sufficiently appreciated: they are not jocose -nor burlesque; they are beautiful apostrophes, or observations upon the -heart and fortunes of human beings, embodied in poetic language and -imagery. Many of them are to be preferred to those of Ariosto, whom he -imitated in these additions. We have noticed his address to the Po, -which is singularly beautiful; another well known interpolation is the -introduction of a description of himself: this, it is true, is -burlesque; but the style of irony is exquisite, and, surely, may be -allowed, as it is directed against his own faults and person. Mr. Rose -has translated this passage, and published it in his prose abstract of -the "Innamorato." Dr. Panizzi has quoted it also in his work. He gives -an account of his life; of his birth at Lamporecchio; of the "piteous -plight" in which he sojourned at Florence till the age of nineteen; and -his journey to Rome, when he attached himself to his kinsman, the -cardinal Bibbiena, who neither did him harm nor good and, on his death, -how he passed to the nephew,-- - - -"Who the same measure as his uncle meted;" - - -and then "in search of better bread," how he became secretary to the -Datario. Yet, he could not please his new patron; although - - -"The worse he did, the more he had to do." - - -Then he describes his own disposition and person:-- - - -"His mood was choleric, and his tongue was vicious, -But he was praised for singleness of heart, -Nor taxed as avaricious or ambitious; -Affectionate and frank, and void of art; -A lover of his friends and unsuspicious; -And where he hated knew no middle part: -And men his malice and his love might rate; -But then he was more prone to love than hate. - -"To paint his person,--this was thin and dry; -Well sorting it, his legs were spare and lean; -Broad was his visage, and his nose was high, -While narrow was the space that was between -His eyebrows; sharp and blue his hollow eye, -Which, buried in his beard, had not been seen, -But that the master kept this thicket cleared. -At mortal war with moustache and with beard." - - -No one ever detested servitude as he did, though servitude was still his -dole. He then whimsically describes himself as inhabiting the palace of -a fairy; where, according to Bajardo, people are kept happily and -merrily, amusing themselves, and passing their lives in indolence. Berni -supposes himself to be one of the company, together with a French cook, -Maitre Pierre Buffet, who had been in the service of Giberti; and he -describes his beau-ideal of the indolent life he loved. Tired with -noise, lights, and music, he finds a lonely room, and causes the -servants to bring a bed into it,--a large bed,--in which he might -stretch himself at pleasure; and, finding his friend the cook, another -bed is brought into the same room for him, and between the two a table -was placed: this table was well supplied with the most savoury viands:-- - - -"But soup and syrup pleased the Florentine (_Berni_), -Who loathed fatigue like death; and for his part, -Brought neither teeth nor fingers into play, -But made two varlets feed him as he lay. - -"Here couchant, nothing but his head was spied, -Sheeted and quilted to the very chin; -And needful food a serving man supplied -Through pipe of silver placed the mouth within. -Meanwhile the sluggard moved no part beside, -Holding all motion else mere shame and sin: -And (so his spirits and his health were broke), -Not to fatigue this organ, seldom spoke." - -"The cook was Master Peter hight, and he -Had tales at will to wile away the day; -To him the Florentine:--'Those fools, pardie, -Have little wit, who dance that endless way.' -And Peter in return: 'I think with thee.' -Then with some merry story back'd the say, -Swallowed a mouthful, and turned round in bed, -And so, by starts, talked, turned, and slept, and fed." - -* * * * - -"Above all other curses, pen and ink -Were by the Tuscan held in hate and scorn, -Who, worse than any loathsome sight or stink, -Detested pen and paper, ink and horn. -So deeply did a deadly venom sink, -So fester'd in his flesh a rankling thorn, -While, night and day, with heart and garments rent, -Seven weary years the wretch in writing spent. - -"Of all their ways to baffle time and tide, -This seems the strangest of their waking dreams: -Couched on their backs, the two the rafters eyed, -And taxed their drowsy wits to count the beams. -'T is thus they mark at leisure which is wide,' -Which short, or which of due proportion seems, -And which worm-eaten are, and which are sound, -And if the total sum is odd or round." - - -This is a specimen of Berni's humour, which gave the name of Bernesco to -poetry of this nature. More serious and more elegant verses abound, as -we have already remarked, and prove that Berni deserves a very high -place among Italian poets. - - -[Footnote 91: Panizzi.] - -[Footnote 92: "Egli avea pien di lagrime la faccia, -E fù smontato in su la terra piana; -Ricolse il Re ferito ne le braccia, -E sopra 'l marmo il pose a la fontana, -E di pianger con seco non si saccia, -Chiedendogli perdon con voce umana. -Poi battezzollo a l' acqua de la fonte, -Pregando Dio per lui con le man gionte. - -"Poco poi stette, che l' ebbe trovato -Freddo il viso e tutta la persona; -Onde s'avvide ch' egli era passato. -Sopra al marmor al fonte l'abbondona, -Così com' era tutto quanto armato, -Col brando in mano, e con la sua corona; -E poi verso il destrier fece riguardo, -E pargli di veder che sia Bajardo." - -_Orlando Inn. da Bojardo_, lib. I. can. XIX. stan. 16, 17.] - -[Footnote 93: "Piena avendo di lagrime la faccia -Scende di Brigliadoro in terra il Conte, -Recasi il Rè ferito nelle braccia -E ponlo su la sponda della fonte; -E pregando, lo bacia, e stretto abbraccia, -Che l'ingiurie passate siano sconte, -Non potendo dir sì, china il Re il collo, -E Orlando con l'acqua battezzano. - -"E poichè finalmente gli ha trovato -Il viso freddo, e tutta la persona, -Onde il giudica tutto trapassato, -Par sopra quella sponda l' abbandona. -Così com era tutto quanto armato, -Col brando in mano, e con la sua corona: -Poi verso il suo cavai volto lo sguardo -Gli par raffigurar, che sia Bajardo." - -_Orlando Inn. rifatto da Berni_, can. XIX. stan. 19, 20.] - - - - - -ARIOSTO - -Ludovico Ariosto was born in the castle of Reggio, a city of Lombardy, -on the 8th of September, 1474. Both his parents were of ancient and -honourable lineage: the Ariosti had long been distinguished in Bologna, -when a daughter of their house, Lippa Ariosta, a lady of great beauty -and address, being married to Obizzo III., marquis of Este, brought a -number of her relatives to Ferrara: these, by her influence, she so -fortunately established in offices of power and emolument, that they -flourished for several generations among the grandees of that petty but -splendid principality. - -The poet's mother. Madonna Daria, belonged to a branch of the Malegucci, -one of the wealthiest and noblest families in the north of Italy. Nicolo -Ariosto, his father, held various places of trust and authority under -the dukes of Ferrara. In youth he had been the companion of Borso, and -steward of the household of Hercules, besides being occasionally -employed on embassies to the pope and the king of France; in which he is -said to have received more substantial recompence than barren dignities, -in ample official salaries, and rich presents for special services. At -the birth of the poet he was governor of the castle and territory of -Reggio, and afterwards advanced to those of Modena; but as emolument -came easily, and there were abundant temptations, besides heavy family -expenses, to spend it lavishly, wealth never accumulated in his hands: -wherefore, having nine younger children born to him, his views with -respect to the eldest, Ludovico, were prudently directed towards -establishing him in some profession, whereby he might acquire riches and -rank for himself by perseverance in honourable labour. At the age of -fourteen or fifteen years,--when he had already signalised himself by -composing a drama on the story of Pyramus and Thisbe, which was -performed by his little brothers and sisters,--no doubt as happily as -the same subject in the Midsummer Night's Dream (whenever that happened) -was enacted by Bottom the weaver and his comrades, or, rather, as -happily as Oberon, Titania, and their train could have done it in -fairy-land,--the young poet was sent, grievously against his will, to -study civil law at Padua under two eminent practitioners, Angelo -Castrinse and Il Maino. With them, like Ovid, Petrarch, Tasso, Marino, -or our own Milton and Cowper, he spent five years to little profit, -hating his profession, and studying so listlessly, that it became more -and more manifest, the longer he drawled at it, that he never would -excel in the strife of words and tournaments of tongues, by which the -ample fortunes and broad lands of many families, whose founders the gods -had fortunately not made poetical, were then, as now, like the prizes at -hardier exercises, acquired. Nicolo Ariosto, therefore, at length -abandoned the folly of spoiling a good poet to make a bad lawyer, and -permitted his son to return to those learned studies and exercises of -native talent, which had been either suspended, or indulged in by -stealth, after his parent, "with spears and lances," had driven him from -them into the toils of pleadings and precedents. Released from these -trammels, (strewed as they were to his loathing eye with the mangled -remains of causes, like cobwebs with sculls, wings, and fragments of -flies,) Ludovico, at the age of twenty, found himself free to expatiate -in that fields of classic literature, whose buried treasures, in his -age, continued still to be dug up and brought to light from time to. -time; or to roam abroad seeking adventures suited to his youthful -imagination, in the wilds of French and Spanish romance, then recently -thrown open to their countrymen by Pulci and Boiardo. - -However enriched his mind in earlier youth might have been with -knowledge of the dead languages--and we are required to believe that he -had made a very promising Latin oration while he was a mere boy--he -found, on returning to them, that he had lost so much as to need the -help of a master to construe a fable of Æsop. But what he lost at law, -he recovered at leisure, and added so much more to his stock; that he -speedily became eminent among his contemporaries (at a time when Latin -was more cultivated than Italian) for the critical skill; or, more -probably; the quickness of apprehension and delicacy of taste; with -which he elecidated obscure passages in Horace and Ovid. These appear to -have been his favourite authors; and each of them; in the sequel; he not -a little resembled; in their very dissimilar excellences. Under the -tuition of Gregorio da Spoleti; a scholar of high repute; whom he has -gratefully celebrated in the epistle to Bembo (Satire VI.); he so far -perfected himself in the language of ancient Rome; that his verses in it -were admired and commended by the greatest adepts in that factitious -style of composition. It was the folly of the learned of that age and -the preceding, to make Latin the universal language of writers who aimed -at the honours of literature; a scheme so preposterous, that none but -the learned could ever have stumbled upon it in their ignorance of every -thing but what the relics of ancient books could teach them. To men of -practical knowledge, it must have occurred, that all the fragments of -Roman authors could, at the most, furnish a vocabulary comparatively -small, and utterly inadequate to meet the demands of extending science, -through new and ever-changing forms of society. Under such a servitude -as made the Roman tongue itself pass under the Roman yoke, no phrase -unauthorised by classic precedent could be hazarded, nor might a foreign -word be engrafted upon the pure stock without appearing a barbarism. -Meanwhile the very rhythm, accent, and pronunciation of the original -being lost, scholars in every country were obliged to adapt these to the -vernacular sounds of vowels and consonants among themselves; so that an -Oxonian and a Tuscan, though they might understand each other by the eye -on paper, would be nearly unintelligible by the ear and the living -voice. It is manifest that nothing better than everlasting patchwork, of -the same unchangeable materials, how diversely soever combined (like the -patterns produced by the kaleidoscope, ever variable, yet little -distinguishable from another), would have constituted the eloquence, -poetry, and polite literature of modern Europe. No people would have -suffered more than the Italians themselves, by employing a defunct and -unimproveable tongue, in which their brightest geniuses must have been -but secondary planets, dimly reflecting, through a hazy atmosphere, the -borrowed beams of luminaries, themselves obscured by distance, as well -as imperfectly seen from partial eclipses. It would then have been the -glory of Dante, Petrarch, and Ariosto, to have written what Virgil, -Cicero, and Horace would have as little relished in diction as they -could have comprehended in substance, where things, persons, customs, -and arts, un existent in their time, were the burthen of every original -theme. On the other hand, equally simple, obvious, and beautiful, was -the only living use that could be made of the dead languages (beyond the -profit and delight of studying them in their surviving models); namely, -that which time has made of them by transmutation and transfusion into -modern tongues of such terms as were congenial to the latter, or could -be rendered so by being employed, first, in technical or peculiar, and -afterwards in elegant and familiar senses, to obviate the necessity of -inventing new and inexpressive words, as the occasion of science and -taste required. The Italian, French, Spanish, and English languages have -thus been enriched and adorned with classical interpolations, so -gradually adopted, that they seemed to grow naturally out of their -respective stocks, as the sphere of knowledge increased, and its details -became more multiform. - -This golden age of Ariosto's life was shortened by the death of his -father; who left to his eldest son, with means exceedingly small, the -responsibility of supporting his mother, and training up his nine -brothers and sisters. In the sixth of his Satires,--satires which are -almost wholly personal and autobiographic,--he says, that on this -occasion he was obliged, at four and twenty years of age, to abandon -Thalia, Euterpe, and all the nine Muses; to turn from quiet studies to -active duties, and exchange Homer for waste-books and ledgers, (_squarci -e vacchette_). These trusts, the young, ambitious, fiery-minded poet -faithfully and self-denyingly fulfilled; and he who, under parental -injunction, at the most docile period of life, would not submit to the -profitable drudgery of the law, now, in the very flower and pride of his -genius, with filial piety and fraternal affection, yielded to a domestic -yoke, and became the father of his family. In this honourable character -he so well husbanded his narrow patrimony, that he portioned off now -one, then another sister, and provided education for his four brothers, -who, as they grew up, entered into the service of sundry princes and -nobles, as was the custom with the minor gentry in that half-feudal age. -Gabriele cultivated literature, and excelled in the composition of Latin -verse; but, making Statius his model, he was never worthy to compete, -even in this respect, with his more illustrious brother. Galasso entered -into the church, which was then the wealthy and lavish patroness of -those, who, by their subserviency to her domination, or their able -advocacy of it, sought the good things of the present life under the -guise of having their affections fixed on higher, holier, and eternal -things. Yet the latter could hardly be said to be used as a pretence for -the purpose of deceiving; so lax, shameless, mercenary, and ambitious -was the hierarchy of that age. Such profligacy, however, must not be -laid to the charge of Galasso, of whom nothing bad is known. "Galasso, -in the city of Evander, is seeking a surplice to put over his -night-gown," says Ludovico in his second Satire; meaning, to obtain a -bishop's robe and rochet--to become a prelate or a canon. Alexander was -of a more enterprising disposition; and delighting in foreign travel, -lie attached himself to the train of the cardinal Hippolito d'Este, -brother to Alfonso duke of Ferrara, whom he accompanied into Hungary; -and, according to his brother's description of that imperious patron's -court, appears to have fretted away his hour upon a stage of artificial -manners, dissipated pleasures, and emasculating duties. Carlo, of whom -nothing particular is recorded, took up his abode in the kingdom of -Naples, where he died. These particulars are gathered chiefly from the -sixth Satire, with the additional intelligence, in the second, that, at -the time of writing it, the author had to furnish a dowry to his fifth -and last sister, then about to be married. Though this must have been -twenty years after the death of their father, the mother was still -living with him. The allusion to her in the context has often been -quoted, but it is so simply and purely beautiful, that it cannot be -quoted amiss here. Excusing himself by many reasons for not going -abroad; and having mentioned, in the foregoing lines, the dispersion of -all the other members of the family from their common home, except -himself and her; he says, - - -"L'età di nostra madre mi percote -Di pietà il core, che da tutti, a un tratto, -Senza infamia lasciata esser non puote." - -"Our mother's years with pity pierce my heart, -For, without infamy, she could not be -By all of us, at once, forsaken." - -_Satire II._ - - -But while Ariosto, from his twenty-fourth to his forty-fifth year, was -thus humbly, yet honourably, nourishing his mother and training up his -brothers and sisters--though his studies were much interrupted at first, -and he was obliged to abandon the Greek language altogether (which he -had recently been recovering)--he maintained his reputation among the -first Latin scholars; and in the same busy interval achieved his -greatest triumph in the literature of his own land. Under the voluntary -burthen of domestic cares, the buoyancy of irrepressible genius bore him -up from obscurity; and whatever might have been the secret misgivings, -or the generous forecastings, of undeveloped but conscious powers, he -found himself, at nine and twenty years of age, in the first circles of -Italian society, courted, admired, applauded, and of course envied, both -for his conversation, his learning, and his poetry. In the latter, -indeed (judging by what remains), he seems to have produced nothing but -two or three indifferent dramas, certain loose love elegies, with a few -middling sonnets and madrigals,--all fantastic and pleasant enough in -their way, but the best of them affording no great promise that their -writer would ere long surpass all predecessors in one wide field of -invention, and leave to successors nothing to do in it but--not to -imitate him: so late and slowly, often, are the most extraordinary -talents brought into exercise. It is difficult to imagine, in our cold -clime, with our refractory tongue, and accustomed as we are to the -phlegm of our countrymen, how such performances as the above could raise -a man to celebrity: but verse was not then the pastime of every lover of -verse; and reputations were not so numerous as they are in these days, -when there are a thousand avenues to the temple of fame not then -opened,--and quite as many out of it,--while candidates are seen -crowding in such throngs as to tread on one another's heels, those -behind forcing onward those in front; so that our literary ephemera -resemble a procession of spectators through a palace, when a royal -corpse lies in state; multitudes coming in, passing on, going out -continually, a few pausing, none stopping. The Italian language, -however, it must be observed, for all the minor and more exquisite forms -of verse, is not less felicitously and inimitably adapted, than is the -French to the _badinage_ of prose. Ariosto gained credit for these -_bagatelles_, in an age when Bembo, Molza, and many others were his -contemporaries, who, to this hour, are chiefly known by such things, and -nothing better. But, for some reason or other which is not apparent, -Ariosto was certainly looked up to, and renowned by anticipation, for a -long contemplated achievement of equal daring to any of the knights' -adventures which in due course he celebrated, and which proved not less -successful in the issue than his own "Astolpho's Journey to the Moon:" -for in this (the "Orlando Furioso"), the madness of his hero covered him -with more glory than the restoring of the Paladin's lost wits did the -rider of the hippogriff. Ariosto, indeed, was the very Astolpho of song, -and both his Paladins and their countries must be sought in the moon, or -nowhere. - -He was, during the greater portion of this eventful period of his life, -in the service of cardinal Hippolito d'Este, who affected to be a -Mæcenas, and who, at least as much from vanity and ostentation as from -genuine taste or delight in their compositions, assembled round him the -prime scholars and wits of the age. By some of his biographers, the poet -is said to have received munificent proofs that the princely -ecclesiastic knew how to value the endowments of the Muses more than -personages of his rank are wont to do. But this seems very questionable, -from the poet's own account of his patron's bounty in his second Satire, -which may be noticed hereafter. Leisure and competence, however, he must -have enjoyed during this irksome and almost menial servitude, under -which, with all its debasements, he produced his "Orlando Furioso." -Having commenced the poem, he communicated the specimen and plan to his -friend cardinal Bembo, who, influenced by the pedantic prejudice -formerly alluded to, seriously advised him to compose it in Latin; a -language in which, with all the mastery that a modern could attain over -it, the licentious fables of chivalry--licentious in every sense, in -diction, sentiment, plot, narrative, and morals,--would have appeared as -heterogeneous and outlandish as the wrath of Achilles in Chinese, or the -piety of Æneas in Sanscrit. Mr. Roscoe says of Sanazzaro and Bembo, who -were brother rivals for the honours of Parnassus, that while the former -"turned all his talents for the improvement of Latin poesy, the latter -persevered in cultivating his native tongue."[94] Most people can give -better advice than they take: Bembo, it seems, took better than he gave; -and Ariosto had sagacity enough to follow his counsellor's example -rather than his precept, nobly answering, "I would rather stand among -the first of writers in my own tongue, than below Ovid or Virgil himself -in theirs." - -This task, therefore, for fifteen years, he pursued, with occasional -external interruptions, but none probably from within; for, his mind -being impregnated with the great conception, he could not help brooding -over it by day and by night, amidst business and pleasure, in crowds and -in solitude, at Rome as ambassador from the duke to the pope, and at -Ferrara as a courtier in the palace of cardinal Hippolito; but -especially at his birth-place, Reggio, in the retirement of a villa -belonging to one of his maternal relatives, Sigismondo Malegucci. Here, -in one of the chambers of an ancient tower within the domain, he -elaborated canto after canto of that most anomalous yet impressive poem, -which, while it appears as unconnected as a tissue of dreams in its -details, (as it resembles the stuff which dreams are made of in its -materials,) is nevertheless one of the most perfect webs of narrative -that fancy ever spun, or genius wove, from the silkworm produce of a -poet's brain. No rival composition of the same or any other class of -heroic verse has yet proved equally attractive to Italian readers in -every rank of life; though, in the "Gerusalemme Liberata" of Tasso, -consummate skill and genius of the highest order have constructed an -epic according to the strictest rules of art, to conciliate the learned, -and at the same time embellished it with all the graces of romance, to -charm the multitude, who love to be pleased, because they cannot help -it, and care not by what means, so that these be but "rich and strange." - -Meanwhile the duke of Ferrara, wishing to pacify the wrath of Julius -II., who threatened him not only with the thunders of the Vatican (which -were no impotent artillery in those days), but with "force and arms," in -the strongest sense of the legal verbiage, so terribly illustrated in -appeals to the sword; it is no small proof of the ability and address in -worldly affairs of one who lived amidst a creation of ideals of his own -rearing, that Ariosto was despatched as ambassador to Rome on this -occasion. Though in the sequel he did not effect his purpose of -appeasing the ferocious pontiff; yet, by his eloquence; he persuaded him -to feign a milder mood; and send an answer which meant less favour than -the words seemed to imply. For soon afterwards, Julius, who had set his -heart upon adding Ferrara to the ecclesiastical states, entered into a -league with the Venetians, who coveted Padua as the quarter adjacent to -their territories; and, while his holiness furnished an army, the doge -sent a fleet up the Po, to attack the capital of Alfonso at once by land -and by water. The papal forces, however, were defeated at the battle of -Ravenna, and the republican squadron was beaten, dispersed, or captured -on the river. On this occasion, Ariosto, unlike Horace (his master in -verse, but not in arms), fought gallantly, and made prize of one of the -enemy's richest vessels, laden with military stores. This appears to be -authenticated, though he himself never alludes to the circumstance in -his Satires (when he is boasting of his services, and murmuring at their -ill requital), and notwithstanding his reputed timidity on the water. At -the same time, the proof usually given of the latter, it must be -allowed, is too equivocal to establish the fact; namely, that when he -had occasion to disembark, he would pertinaciously wait till every body -else had landed, before he would venture to descend from the deck, using -the phrase, de "_puppe novissimus exi_:" but the coolest captain, when -his ship is wrecked or foundering, makes it a point of honour and duty -to be the last to abandon it. He is likewise said to have been as -indifferent a horseman, as _good_ seamen often are (though he was none), -riding slowly and cautiously, and alighting on the least appearance of -peril or inconvenience in his way. Personally a coward he may have been, -but mentally courageous he undoubtedly was: there is no deficiency of -spirit traceable in his conduct on some trying occasions, any more than -there is in his verses at any time. Indeed, one who had not the keenest -intellectual delight in the boldest enterprises, the most appalling -dangers, and difficulties insurmountable except by magic intervention, -would hardly have written "Orlando Furioso;" for in no work of -imagination does the author more effectually dispossess himself of -himself, and become for the time being the knight or the giant whose -exploits he is celebrating. - -After his victories, Alfonso, still anxious to conciliate the pope, -proposed a second embassy to Rome; but none of his other diplomatists -being willing to hazard themselves in the presence of tire fiery Julius, -Ariosto was again induced to accept the charge,--no mean proof of -constitutional intrepidity, or else an ascendancy of mind over nerves -which few philosophers have attained. Accordingly he set out; but (as he -tells us himself in one of his Satires) after escaping all the hazards -of the way, every where infested by brigands in those troublous times, -he met with so uncourteous a reception from the chafed pontiff, that he -was glad to escape as quietly and secretly as he could, having received -information that, as Alfonso's proxy, he ran no small risk of being -treated as the holy father would have been happy to have treated his -master, had he presented himself at the Vatican. Indeed, Julius is said -to have openly threatened to throw the poet into the sea, if he did not -make his way back as speedily as he might; a hint of which Ariosto -promptly availed himself, not presuming to entertain a hope, had he been -cast upon the mercy of the waves, that he should have the good fortune -of Arion, to charm the dolphins with his minstrelsy, after finding that -the sacred laurel, which even the lightning spares[95], could not make -his head inviolable at Rome. Alfonso himself, in one of his fruitless -negotiations with the implacable Julius, being at Rome, and under safe -conduct, was so alarmed by the perfidious treatment which he experienced -from the pontiff (who in the mean time, during a truce, had seized -Reggio, and demanded Ferrara in exchange for his unjust capture), that -he deemed it prudent to make his retreat in the various disguises of a -huntsman, a livery servant, and a friar, under the protection of the -family of Colonna, who by force rescued him from state-confinement in -the Vatican, under the abused name of hospitality. - -But the duke retaliated in a singular manner for the indignity shown to -himself and his representative. The French having taken Bologna, a -superb bronze statue of the military pope, by Michel Angelo, was pulled -down from its pedestal, and dragged by the populace through the mire -about the city, after which it was sent as a present to Alfonso. The -indignant duke (a reckless barbarian in this instance), showing as -little respect for the exquisite workmanship of the sculptor as he felt -for the piety of the pope, with a felicity of revenge almost to be -forgiven for its appropriateness, ordered the rich metal to be sent to -the furnace, and re-cast into a cannon, to which he gave the name of -Julio. The head, however, was spared, and placed as a trophy in the -state museum. Julius never forgave the duke, either for the fault of his -ancestors in bequeathing to him a territory which the see of Rome -coveted, or for his own sin in defending that territory so successfully -against both spiritual and secular violence, that he himself (the -greatest warrior who ever wore the triple crown) could not wrest it from -him. The disappointed pope expired, exclaiming, in his delirium, "Out of -Italy, ye French! Out, Alfonso of Este!"[96] - -The first edition of the "Orlando Furioso" appeared in 1515; eleven -years after its commencement; a second and third; highly improved; -followed in the course of six years; and the last from his hand; in -1532, the year of the poet's death. In each succeeding reprint; so many -and such large amendments; exclusions; and variations of the original -text were adopted; that the example has been very properly held up to -young writers as worthy of their diligent imitation--never to think -their best performances perfect while a touch is wanting which they can -give to heighten their beauty, or a blemish remaining to lower it, which -they can remove. In fact, Ariosto ceased not to elaborate his apparently -completed work to the latest period of his life. Long after it had -attained its full standard of bulk, this sole tree of his fancy -continued to flourish, by the perpetuation of the same process which had -reared it, putting forth fairer leaves and richer fruit, in perennial -course, till the failure of further supply, from his own decay, left it -to survive him in imperishable maturity. The principal interruptions of -his literary labours seem to have been the necessary dissipation of mind -during the aforementioned unfortunate embassies to Rome, his brief -government of the disturbed province of Graffagnana, and occasional fits -of silence which came upon him when his heart was wrung and his pride -wounded by the inconsiderate neglect or the more flagrant ingratitude of -mean-spirited patrons. Of the latter, cardinal Hippolito was the chief; -and the cause of their mutual estrangement was the refusal of the poet -to accompany the haughty priest as one of his retinue on a journey to -Hungary to visit his archbishopric of Segovia, which had been bestowed -upon him when he was not more than eighteen years old, by king Matteo -Corvino, whose queen Beatrice was sister to Leonora of Aragon, -Hippolito's mother. This spoiled child of fortune was not only cardinal, -priest, statesman, and warrior (in each of which characters he greatly -signalised himself, according to the lax notions of morality then -prevalent); but in one instance, at least, he was a lover also, and a -rejected one, who wreaked upon his favoured rival a revenge which has -made his memory infamous. It appears that Hippolito, and his -illegitimate brother don Giulio, both paid their addresses -(dishonourable ones they must have been on the cardinal's part) to a -lady of Ferrara, of singularly attractive accomplishments, who (if -marriage were the question to be decided by the courtship of either), it -may be presumed, very naturally preferred him with whom a virtuous -alliance might be formed. Hippolito, pressing her one day to acknowledge -the ground of her preference, she laid the blame of her love on Giulio's -beautiful eyes. The cardinal secretly determined to dissolve that charm; -and soon after, accompanying his brother on the chase, in a solitary -situation, he led him into an ambush of assassins, who sprang upon the -unsuspecting youth, dragged him from his horse, and tore out his eyes, -while Hippolito stood by, directing the operation, and exulting in the -extinction of those fatal luminaries that stood in his light. -Guicciardini, indeed, says, that though Giulio's eyes were plucked out -(_tratti_) by the cardinal, they were replaced, without the loss of -sight (_riposti senza perdita del lume nel luogo loro_), by the prompt -and careful skill of the chirurgeons. Be this as it might, the man -concerning whom such a story could be told, and believed by -contemporaries, must have had a character for cruelty and selfishness, -which renders probable the arrogance, vindictiveness, and tyranny -towards his dependents, of which Ariosto so bitterly, yet so humbly and -playfully, complains in his Satires, whenever he alludes to his -connection with Hippolito. The magnanimous conduct of Alfonso towards -the same unfortunate youth was strikingly contrasted with the treachery -and barbarity of Hippolito: for the duke not punishing the cardinal or -his accomplices for this outrage, Giulio and his brother Ferdinand -conspired against his life. The plot was discovered; and the brothers, -having confessed their criminal purpose, were adjudged to lose their -heads on the scaffold; but while the axe Avas suspended over them, their -sentence was changed into one of perpetual imprisonment. Ferdinand, -after suffering this for thirty years, died; but Giulio, at the -expiration of fifty-two years, was set at liberty.[97] - -The poet was, no doubt, proud of his own ancient blood, and jealous of -his personal independence, while he coveted that leisure for the -pursuits of literature, on which the felicity of his existence, and the -glory of his name, in a great measure depended; feelings little -understood or little regarded by superficial grandees, whether in church -or state, in respect to those over whom they held authority or -influence. A poet, more than any other man, lives within himself; and to -do this he must have freedom, ease, and competence, however small: nor -is it less for the benefit of others that he should enjoy these -necessaries of literary life; since they are to reap the harvest of his -hermit-thoughts, sown in secret and cherished in solitude, till they -grow into beauty, like plants undistinguished till their blossoms -appear, or till they shine through obscurity like stars that come out -between light and darkness, because they can no longer be hidden. To -writers of every other class, valuable as self-searching, -self-knowledge, and self-gratification may be, for their various -exercises and undertakings, they draw or collect the greater portion of -their materials for study and composition from their converse with -ordinary and public affairs, the records of the dead or the living, past -or contemporary characters, manners, and events. The historian, the -moralist, or the philosopher, may please and profit his own generation, -and bequeath intellectual stores of wealth to posterity, by representing -the images, tastes, and employments of his own times; but the poet, the -perpetual poet, he who alone is a poet in the highest sense, whatever be -his theme, and how similar soever his materials may be to those of -others, must mould his subject according to the archetypes in his own -mind, and yet cause such an universal and undying spirit to pervade it, -as shall by sympathy make his thoughts understood and enjoyed in all -ages and countries, among all people who can read his language.[98] - -Hippolito, praised as he has been for his patronage of letters and arts, -and poetically canonised by Ariosto himself, throughout the "Orlando -Furioso," in strains as unworthy of his genius as they were unmerited by -the hero of it, seems to have been a jackdaw patron, who loved to prank -himself with the peacock-feathers of court-poets, and strut before them, -well plucked, in his train. It is clear that he very indifferently -appreciated those talents which were the admiration of all Italy, and as -little understood the temper of their possessor. The proud cardinal -scarcely rated them any higher than inasmuch as they afforded him the -insolent gratification of saying (to exalt himself) that such rare -endowments belonged to one of the creatures whom he affected to keep -about him, who would fetch and carry for their patron, while they dare -not call their souls their own--if souls they had, who could sell them -for the luxury of eating toads, with pleasant countenances, in the great -man's presence, and deserving the contempt with which they were treated -by submitting to it. To the honour of Ariosto he was not one of this -reptile species, though his narrow circumstances through life compelled -him to eat hitter bread at tables where he would have loved to sit, if -he could have found a place there otherwise than as a dependant. In his -second satire he expatiates on the degradation of that bondage, from -which his own high spirit, and the cardinal's mean one, had freed him. -Writing to his brother Alessandro, who had followed his highness into -Hungary, he inquires whether the latter ever names him, or alludes to -his pertinacity in remaining behind: he then breaks into indignant -complaints against the cardinal's courtiers, for misrepresenting the -motives of his conduct:--"Oh! ye, profoundly learned in adulation! the -art which you most cultivate and study still countenances him to blame -me beyond measure. Mad is the man who dares to contradict his master, -even though he say that he has seen the stars at noon, the sun at -midnight. When he commends or censures, every voice, on either hand, is -heard with one accord approving; and if there be a solitary one that has -not hardihood, from downright baseness, to open a mouth, with his whole -visage he applauds, and every feature says,--'I too agree with that.'" -The writer proceeds to recapitulate the reasons, "many and true," which -he had stated to the cardinal himself, face to face, without disguise, -why he should stay at home. Several of these are whimsical enough, but -they show the humour of the man; and may be comprised thus summarily:-- - -"I have no wish to make my life shorter than fortune and my stars shall -please. Now every change, however slight, would aggravate my malady (an -inveterate asthma), and I should either die of it, or my two physicians -are mistaken. But over and above what they may say, I understand my own -case best, and what is good and what is bad for me. My constitution ill -endures hard winters, and theirs beneath the pole (Hungary beneath the -pole! the poet was always a strange geographer, but here he is playing) -are more intense than ours in Italy. And if the cold should not blast -me, the heat would, from stoves which I abominate so much, that I shun -them more than the plague. Besides all this, the folks so dress, and eat -and drink, and play; in short, do every thing but sleep, in that strange -land in winter, that, were I forced to gulp the air, so difficult to -breathe, from the Riphean mountains, what with the vapours arising from -my stomach, and the rheum falling on my lungs, I certainly should die -some night of suffocation. Then heady wines, which are prohibited to me -as mortal poison, are by the guests swilled down in monstrous draughts, -for not to drink much and undiluted is sacrilege there. All their food -too is high seasoned with pepper and spices, which my doctor condemns as -pernicious for me. Here you may say, that I might sit down below stairs -in a snug chimney corner, far from the ill savour of the company, where -the cook would prepare my victuals to my own liking, and I might water -my wine at my will, and drink little or none at all. What J while you -are all well and feasting above, must I sit from morning till night -alone in my cell, alone at my board, like a Carthusian? Then pots and -pans for kitchen and chamber would be wanted, and I must have a dower of -household furniture settled on me like a new married bride. Supposing, -nevertheless, that master Pasquin, the cook, were pleased to dress -dinner for me apart; once or twice he might do it, but assuredly the -fourth or sixth time, he would set all his face in arms against me (_mi -farà 'l viso dell' arme_). * * * * You will reply, 'begin housekeeping -then in your own way, at your own expense; your footman may be your -caterer, and you can cook and eat your pullets at your own -fireside!'--Mighty well! but by my unlucky servitude under the cardinal, -I have not got enough to set up an hotel for myself in his palace. And -thanks to thee, Apollo! thanks to you, ye sacred college of the Muses! -from your bounty I have not received so much as would buy me a cloak. -'Oh, but your patron has given you something!'[99]--I grant it; -something more than would buy me a cloak; but that it was given me for -your sake, I don't believe. He has said, and I am free to tell it to -every body, that I may put my verses (there is an untranslatable quibble -in the original) where I like. His praises composed by me are not the -kind of services which he deems worthy of recompence; he doles out his -rewards to those who ride post for him, follow him in the park and the -city; who don and doff his clothes, and put his wine flasks in the well -that they may be cool at the nones; he recompenses those who watch for -him at nights, till the smiths rise in the morning to make nails, so -that they often fall asleep with the torches burning in their hands. -When I have made verses in honour of him, he says, I have done so for my -own pleasure and idleness; whereas it would be far more agreeable to him -to have me about his own person." After further complaints against his -patron, scorn of that patron's flatterers, and vindication of himself -for not being one of these, the angry poet exclaims, "What could I do in -such a case? I have no skill to shoot partridges flying; nor to hold a -hawk or a greyhound in leash. Let lads learn such arts, who wish to -practise them. Nor can I conveniently stoop to draw on or pull off his -boots and spurs, seeing I am somewhat tall. I have not much taste for -victuals, and as for carvings I might very well have served that office -in the age of the world when men fed on acorns. I would not choose to -superintend Gismondi's[100] housekeeping accounts; nor does it fall to -my lot to gallop again to Rome to appease the fury of the second Julius; -but even if it did; at my time of life; with this cough, which I -probably caught on such an occasion; it does not suit me any longer to -run about the streets. If then to perform such drudgery, and seldom to -go out of his presence, but stand there like Bootes by the Great -Bear,--if this be required of the man who thirsts for gold, rather than -enrich myself thus, I choose repose; repose, rather than to occupy -myself with cares for which my studies must be abandoned and plunged -into Lethe,--studies that do not, indeed, furnish pasture for the body, -but feast the mind with food so noble that they deserve not to be -neglected. And thus they do for me,--they make poverty less painful, and -wealth to be so little desired, that for the love of it I will not part -with my freedom: they cause me not to want that which I hope not to -obtain; and that neither envy nor spleen consume me when my lord invites -Celio and Marone, while I cannot expect to be seen at supper with his -highness at Midsummer; amidst a blaze of torches, blinded with their -smoke. Here I walk alone and on foot wherever I please, and when I -choose to ride, I throw my saddle bags over my horse's back and mount: -and this I hold to be a lesser sin than taking a bribe to recommend the -cause of a vassal to the prince; or harassing a parish by iniquitous -lawsuits, till the people offer pensions to stay proceedings. Wherefore -I lift up both hands to heaven, and pray, that either among citizens or -countrymen, I may live in peace under my own roof, and that by means of -my small patrimony, I may be enabled to spend the remainder of my days -without learning a new craft, or making my family blush for me." In the -sequel of the epistle, the relenting poet (a freeman at heart, a slave -by court habit) condescends to make an offer of certain honorary -services which he could render to the cardinal at home (not having "felt -himself so stout and nimble as to leap from the hanks of the Po to those -of the Danube"), but before he has well concluded his humiliating -overture, the exasperation, of which neither scorn, philosophy, nor -poetic pride could rid his wounded spirit, returns like an access of -disease upon him, and he breaks out into a rhodomontade of defiance. In -this passage it is hard to know whether the unhappy writer be most -entitled to pity, censure, or admiration: pity for unmerited harshness -from his patron; censure for a manifest hankering towards sycophancy; -and admiration for his magnanimous resolve, at any rate, to choose -freedom and penury rather than abundance and bondage. "If," he says, -"for a benefice bestowed on me of five and twenty crowns every four -months (yet not so well secured but that they are often litigated), his -highness has a right to make me wear a chain, hold me as a bondman, and -oblige me to sweat and tremble before him, without any regard, till I -break down and die,--let him not imagine such a thing, but tell him -plainly that, rather than be a slave, I will bear poverty in patience." -He goes on:-- - - -"An ass, all bones and gristle with hard fare, -Entering a granary through a broken wall, -Made such enormous havoc with the corn, -That his thin flanks were rounded like a tun, -And he had had enough,--which was not soon. -Then, fearing lest his hide must pay the cost, -He struggled to get back the way he came, -But found the chink too narrow now to let him. -Thus, while he fretted, pushed, and squeez'd in vain, -A rat addressed him: 'Sir, if you would pass, -You must make friends with that great paunch of yours; -Behoves you to disgorge what you have swallow'd, -And e'en grow lean again, or never hope -To thread the needle's eye of that small hole.' ---So, in conclusion, if his Eminence -Imagines he has bought me with his gifts, -'T will be no hard or bitter thing to me -Straight to return them, and reclaim my freedom." - - -To aggravate the poet's misfortune, about this time, or, in the words of -his first English translator, sir John Harrington, "to mend the matter, -one taking occasion of this eclipse of the cardinal's favour put him in -suit for a piece of land of his ancient inheritance, which was not only -a great vexation to his mind, but a charge to his purse and travail to -his body; for undoubtedly the clattering of armour, the noise of great -ordnance, the sound of the trumpet and drum, and the neighing of horses, -do not so much trouble the sweet Muses, as the brabbling of lawyers, the -pattering of attorneys, and the civil war, or rather most uncivil -disagreeing, of foresworn jurors." - -After the death of Hippolito, who was never reconciled to him, Ariosto -was persuaded to enter into the service of the cardinal's brother, -Alfonso the duke, who, if he neither exalted nor enriched the poet -greatly, honoured him for his genius, delighted in his society, and -enabled him to build a house to his own fancy in the midst of an ample -garden. This gave him an opportunity of indulging in one of his peculiar -tastes, in which, however, it was not easy to please himself, for the -pleasure rather consisted in trying to do so by modelling and -remodelling, and making experiment after experiment on whatever he had -in hand. Thus his mansion was constructed by piecemeal, pulled down in -like manner, enlarged, reduced, amended over and over again before he -permitted it to stand, or deemed it worthy of the following quaint -inscription, which he placed over the entrance:-- - - -"Parva sed apta mihi, sed nulli obnoxia, sed non -Sordida, parta meo sed tamen fere domus." - -"'T is small but fit for me, gives none offence, -Not mean, yet builded at my own expense." - - -"A verse," says sir John Harrington, with an emphasis as though he spoke -from experience, "which few of the builders of this latter day could -truly write, or, at least, if they could, I would lay that their houses -were strongly built, indeed, for more than the third heir." When asked -by a friend how it happened that he who, in "building the lofty rhyme," -had reared so many superb palaces, could submit to dwell under so humble -a roof, he very ingenuously replied, "Words are sooner put together than -bricks and mortar." Yet in constructing his verse he was equally -fastidious; no poet probably ever bestowed more patience and pains in -weighing syllables, collocating sounds, balancing periods, and adjusting -the nicest points that bore upon the harmony, splendour, or fluency of -his compositions; yet it is the charm of his style that the whole seems -as natural as if the thoughts had told themselves in their own words. In -stocking his garden, and, training his flowers, Ariosto is said to have -been not less fickle and capricious than in framing his habitation and -adapting his poetical numbers; but with far less felicity; for, like a -child impatient to witness the growth of his plants, he would pull them -up from time to time to see how the roots were thriving below ground, as -well as how they shot upwards. This plan, however it might suit masonry -to practise on dead materials, or poetry to weave and disentangle -rhythmical cadences, was ill adapted to gardening. - -It was still, however, and to his life's end, the misfortune of Ariosto -to struggle against the solicitudes, discomforts, and mortifications of -narrow and precarious circumstances. His own family were long dependent -upon him for entire subsistence, or occasional aid; yet he seems to have -kept his inheritance, small as it was, unimpaired, otherwise he could -not have looked to it as a last resource, when courtly favour, whether -of prelate or prince, should be withdrawn. What regular stipends he -might receive for his services from Hippolito and Alfonso, is nowhere -recorded, beyond the five and twenty crowns every four months, bestowed -by the former, when he could get them, by fair means or foul, from those -who were to pay them; and according to some of his biographers, -withdrawn from him by his patron, after their quarrel. But it appears -that he enjoyed the revenues of some ecclesiastical benefices, though -not in priest's orders, and that, though not married, he had two sons, -whom he educated liberally. In his third satire, he assigns a very -equivocal reason for this not very equivocal conduct; for who will -pretend that both circumstances were not greatly to his discredit, -though countenanced in simony and licentiousness by the shameless -practices of many of his most honourable contemporaries:--"I will not -take orders, because then I can never take a wife; I will not take a -wife because then I can never take orders, and I am shy of tying a knot, -which, if I repent, I cannot loose." From popes, cardinals, and princes, -both native and foreign, he is said to have received large gifts, in -return for copies of his poems, and in compliment to those rare talents, -by which he furnished the most popular, as well as the most fashionable -reading of all who spoke the Italian tongue, or understood it: yet few -of these are so authenticated as to confer unquestionable credit on the -presumed donors. - -Among Ariosto's patrons, next to Hippolito, Pope Leo X. seems to have -most excited and most disappointed his reasonable expectations, not to -call them his positive claims; for in some instances at least, where -promises have been made to the hope, the iniquity of breaking them to -the heart is only not felony, because the law cannot punish it. It is -said by one (Gabriele Simeoni in his Satire on Avarice), that "to Leo, -the light and mirror of courtesy, we are primarily indebted for the -pleasure of hearkening to the lays of Ariosto, that pontiff having given -him several hundred crowns to perfect his work." Another apocryphal -authority affirms, that pope Leo X. issued a bull in favour of the -"Orlando Furioso," denouncing excommunication against any one who should -presume to censure its poetry or its morals. This has been explained -into a mere matter of form, namely, a licence to print and publish the -work, with a denunciation against those who should defraud the author of -the lawful profits arising from the sale;--a licence, by the way, of -little value; since we have learned already from himself long after the -publication of the poem, that from "Apollo and the sacred college of the -Muses,"--a palpable hit at the pope and the sacred college of cardinals, -against whom he seldom spares a stroke of raillery,--he never received -so much as would buy him a cloak. A bull of some kind or other was -granted to him by Leo, according to his own confession in Satire VII.; -but if that which is once well done is twice done, that which is only -half done must be next to nothing: he received only a moiety of the sum -raised by it, which seems to have been as little productive as some of -our church briefs, or those letters of royal licence to beg, which have -been granted in this country to recompense learned men for their -labours, as in the case of Stow the antiquary. Paulo Rolli, himself a -poet of no mean rank (who translated "Paradise Lost" into Italian), in -his note on a passage in the sixth Satire, says that Leo, "otherwise the -great friend of the learned, did not promote Ariosto, because his -holiness inherited from Julius II. implacable hatred against Alfonso -duke of Ferrara, and a greedy desire to possess that city. It did not, -therefore, agree with his policy to give Ariosto a cardinal's hat, -because, being a subject of Alfonso's, the poet would not only do no -wrong to the duke; but, on the contrary, honoured as he was by his -sovereign, he would employ all his influence to thwart the injurious -designs of the pontiff against the latter. What marvel, then, that Leo, -like mighty men in every age, should prefer his own ambition to the -great friendship and esteem in which he held Ariosto; since ambition, -when united with personal interest, swallows up all other passions!" - -But what claims had Ariosto on the bounty of Leo X.? The fact is -certain, that, previous to the elevation of Giovanni de' Medici, under -that name, to the papal chair (not in prosperity only, but in exile and -captivity after the battle of Ravenna), Ariosto had been on terms of the -most cordial intimacy that can be supposed to have subsisted between -persons so unequally circumstanced with regard to birth, but having in -common one passionate attachment to elegant literature. In Ariosto this -was supreme, in Leo it was only secondary; hence the heartless -ingratitude of the priest on the one hand, and the wormwood and gall of -chagrin, that exasperated the poet on the other. But his own authority -on the subject is the best; and if not the most correct, it has the -merit of being the most amusing representation of the game of -self-delusion at which both played and both lost (the one his honour, -and the other his reward); for there is no reason to doubt of Giovanni -de' Medici's affection towards his friend, and his purpose to serve him -being as sincere--till he had the means of doing so--as the poets hopes -were natural and ingenuous. Time has avenged the injured party, and -Ariosto's fourth Satire adds little to the glory of the golden days of -Leo. While the latter was a whelp, he fondled his playmate the spaniel; -when he came to lion's estate, he had too many foxes and wolves about -his den to care for his former companion. "Until the time" when he went -to Rome to be made lion[101] (Leo), "I was always agreeable to him, and -apparently he loved few persons more than me. Often hath he said, when -he was legate and in Florence, that if need were, he would make no -difference between me and his own brother. Hence some might imagine, -that being at Rome, it would have been easy for me to have slipt my head -out of a black hood into a green one. I answer those who may think so -with an example; read it, for it will cost you less to read than me to -write." - -This, as well as some former and following extracts from the Satires, -are given, for variety's sake, in slipshod verse:-- - - -"The ground, one summer, was so parch'd with drought, -It seem'd as though Apollo had resign'd -His horses' reins to Phaëton again: -Dry every well, and every fountain dry; -Lakes, streams, and rivers most renown'd, might then -Be forded without bridges. - -"In that time, -There lived a pastor, rich I do not say, -Nor overstock'd with herds and woolly flocks, -Who, among others, press'd by want of water, -And having search'd in vain through every cave, -Turn'd to that Lord who never disappoints -The man that trusts in him;--and light was given, -And inspiration to his heart, that he, -Far thence, should in a valley's bottom find -The long-desired supply. - -"Off, with his wife, -Children, and all that in the world he had, -He hasten'd thither, and with spade and mattock -Delved to the spring,--nor had he deep to dig. -But having nothing wherewithal to draw, -Save one scant narrow pitcher, thus he spake: -'Let none take dudgeon, if the earliest draught -Be for myself; the second for my dame; -And't is but right my children have the third, -The fourth, and on, till all have slaked their thirst; -Then, one by one, I will the rest should drink, -According to their work and labour done, -Who sunk the well; to flocks and cattle next -Refreshment must be forth distributed, -First to the feeblest and the nearest death.' - -"According to this equitable rule, -All came to drink; while each, that he might not -Be last, made most of his small services. -This, a poor magpie, once his master's pet, -Seeing and hearing, cried, "Ah! well-a-day! -I'm no relation, I've not help'd to sink -The well, nor am of any further use -To be to him what I have been; 't is plain -That if I wait my turn, I'm in the lurch, -And must drop dead with thirst unless -I seek Relief elsewhere.' - -"Cousin[102], with this example -I furnish you, to stop the mouths of those -Who think his holiness might have preferr'd -Me to the _Neri, Vanni, Lotti, Bacci_, -Nephews and kin so numerous, claiming right -To drink in the first year; then those that help'd -To robe him with the best of mantles, &c. &c. &c. -* * * * -If till all these have drunk their fill I wait, -I know not which will be the first dried up, -The well of water, or myself by thirst." - - -The poet, alluding in direct terms to his visit to Rome, and his -specious reception by Leo, says, "I had better remain in my accustomed -quiet, than try whether it be true, that whomsoever fortune exalts, she -first dips in Lethe." The subtle irony that follows cannot be mistaken -in the original, while the indignant satirist, with the most unaffected -gravity, and in right good faith, seems to acquit his patron of -forgetfulness and ingratitude,--the very things with which it is certain -that he means to charge him. Ariosto can keep his countenance like the -Spartan boy, who, having stolen a fox, and hidden it under his cloak, -suffered the animal to worry its way into his heart, without betraying, -by any contortion, the secret of his theft. "Nevertheless, if it be the -fact that she (Fortune) does plunge others there (in Lethe), so that all -remembrances of the past are washed out, I can testify that he (Leo) had -not lost his memory when I first kissed his foot; he bowed himself -towards me from the blessed seat, took me by the hand, and gave me a -holy kiss on either cheek; he likewise granted me most graciously one -half of that same bull of which my friend Bebiena lately remitted me the -balance, at my own expense; wherefore, with skirts and bosom full of -hopes, but splashed from head to foot with rain and mud, I returned to -supper at my inn the same night. But even if it be true that the pope -means to make good all his former promises, and now intends me to reap -fruit of the seed which I have sown through so many years; if it be true -that he will bestow upon me as many mitres and coronets as the master of -his chapel ever saw assembled when his holiness says mass; if it be true -that he will fill my sleeves, my pockets, and my lap with gold, and, -lest that should not be enough, cram me bodily with it up to the chin -(_la gola, il ventre e le budella_); would all this glut my enormous -voracity for wealth? or would the fierce thirst of my cerastes[103] be -appeased with this? From Morocco to China, from the Nile to the Danube, -and not merely to Home, I must travel, if I would find means to satiate -the unnatural cravings of avarice. Were I a cardinal, or even the great -servant of servants, and yet could not find bounds to my inordinate -desires, what good should I get by wearying myself with such huge leaps? -I had better lie still, and tire myself less." - -The fable which follows, typifies the mournful but ludicrous fact, that, -while all who reach the heights they aim at are disappointed,--that -_for_ which they aim at these being as unapproachable at the top of the -hill as from the bottom,--others are continually aspiring, through all -the stages of the wearisome ascent, towards the very prize which the -successful have _not_ gained, though to those beneath it appears to be -actually in their possession:-- - - -"Once on a time,--'t was when the world was young, -And the first race of men were inexperienced, -For there were no such knaveries then as now,-- -A certain people, whom I need not name, -Dwelt at the foot of an enormous hill, -Whose summit from the valley seem'd to touch -The sky itself. - -"These simple folks, observing -How oft the inconstant moon, now with a horn, -And now without, now waxing, and now waning, -Held through the firmament her natural course, -Supposed that on the top they might find out -How she enlarged, then shrunk into herself. -One with a bag, another with a basket, -Began to scale the precipice amain, -Each eager in the strife to outclimb the rest; -But finding at the peak they were no nearer, -All fell down weary on the earth, and wish'd -Most heartily that they had stay'd below. -Their neighbours from the bottom seeing them -Aloof, believed that they had reach'd the moon, -And hurried breathless up to share the spoil. ---This mountain is the mighty wheel of Fortune, -Upon whose rim the stupid vulgar think -All is tranquillity, though ne'er a bit."[104] - - -With equal spleen and pleasantry, in the seventh Satire, the author, as -an experienced hand, ridicules the favourite game of mankind,--climbing -the wheel of Fortune, and never finding themselves complete fools till -they are quite at the top. The allusion (scarcely intelligible in this -country, where it is played in earnest only, and not for pastime) is to -a game of cards, of which a pack is called _tarrochi_ (trumps): these -are painted expressly in the manner described below, namely, the -transmigration, by instalments, of climbing men into asses; and they are -used for the purpose of playing at _minchiate_ (blockhead),--a common -recreation at Florence, and--wherever else the reader pleases:-- - - -"That pictured wheel, I own, annoys me sorely, -Which every master paints in the same way, -And such agreement cannot be a lie, ---When that which sits aloft they make an ass. -Now every one may understand this riddle, -Without the sphinx to interpret;--for, mark well, -Each, as he climbs, begins to _assify_ -From top to toe; head, shoulders, arms, thence downward; -The limbs below remaining human still:"[105] - - -that is, till having reached the summit, the man has the felicity to -find himself an accomplished ass. The poet, immediately afterwards, -applies this unlucky hieroglyphic to himself and his journey to Rome, to -congratulate Leo X. on his accession to the triple crown. His services, -expectations, and disappointments, while a worshipper of that golden -calf of literary idolatry (whose rites have not yet ceased), are -humorously but vindictively recapitulated. Illustrative of these, he -introduces another fable in his own free and easy manner. La Fontaine -himself might have borrowed from Ariosto the idea of that simple yet -facetious style which distinguishes his fables. To the disgrace of both, -the Frenchman seems likewise to have borrowed from the Italian the -model, as well as some of the materials, for his profligate tales. "My -hope," says the forlorn satirist, "came with the first leaves and -blossoms of spring, but withered without waiting for September. It came -on the day when the church was given for a spouse to Leo, when I saw so -many of my friends clad in scarlet at the nuptials. It came with the -calends, and fled with the ides: remembering this, I can never again put -confidence in man. My silly hope shot up to heaven, and spread over -unknown lands, when the holy father took me by the hand and kissed me on -the cheeks; but high as it rose, so low it fell, and oh! in how short -space of time!" - - -"There was a gourd which grew so lustily, -That in few days its foliage over-ran -The loftiest branches of a neighbouring pear-tree. -One morn, the latter, opening wide its eyes -After a long sound nap, beheld new fruits -Clustering luxuriantly around its head. -'Holla!' it cried; 'who _are_ you? and how _came_ you? -Where _were_ you when these wretched eyes of mine -To slumber I resign'd?' The gourd replied -Frankly; declared its name and kindred; show'd -How it was planted at his honour's foot, -And in three months had thriven to that height. -'And I,' the pear-tree answer'd, 'hardly climb'd -To this pre-eminence, through heat and cold, -And wars with all the winds, in thirty years! -But you, who in the twinkling of an eye -Have sprung to heaven, shall, with the self-same speed -As you have risen, down dwindle to the root.'" - - -Notwithstanding the neglect which he experienced at Rome, Ariosto was -now enjoying ease and dignity at the court of Alfonso, compared with the -servitude, or rather the servility, which Hippolito formerly exacted of -his retainers. During this prosperous period of his life, he was -appointed by his patron to a post of honour and difficulty, if not of -emolument, which required the exercise of certain politic talents rarely -possessed by poets, but which he must have possessed in no -inconsiderable measure, judging by the trusts so repeatedly reposed in -him. Graffagnana, a mountainous district lying between Modena and Lucca, -and which had been wrested some years before by the pope from the duke -of Ferrara, threw off the yoke, and returned to its former lord, upon -the demise of Leo X. This tract of debateable land was occupied by a -people proverbially rude, factious, and turbulent among themselves, as -well as refractory towards the ill-established authorities set over them -from time to time by their temporary sovereigns. Hence the woodlands and -glens on the Apennine slopes, where their country was situated, were -infested with banditti; and the inhabitants were embroiled in perpetual -lawsuits before tribunals where little justice was to be obtained, or -else at open variance with their own bands, determining right by might. -To that dreary province, in such a hideous state of affairs, Ariosto was -sent to redress grievances, restore quiet, and advance the -semi-barbarians a step or two in civilisation. This task,--on the face -of it more fitted to the talents of an Orpheus or Amphion, than those of -a modern minstrel; unless, like the one, he was master of the lost art -of teaching stones to build themselves into temples and palaces, or, -like the other, could draw rocks and forests, with their population of -lions and tigers, after him, by the enchantment of his lyre,--he seems -to have accomplished with moderate success among a tribe already -acquainted with his romantic poetry, and prepared to honour the author. -Sir John Harrington says, that "he so orderly governed, and so well -quieted," these riotous hordes by his wisdom and equity, that "he left -them all in good peace and concord; winning not only the love of the -better sort, but also a wonderful reverence of the wilder people, and a -great awe even in robbers and thieves." The latter phrase alludes to a -story which has been differently told, but may be received as -substantially true, of a rencontre which he had with some of his more -uncouth neighbours. One day traversing a forest, accompanied by five or -six horsemen, the little party was startled by the appearance of a body -of armed men breaking cover, and coming suddenly upon them; these -belonged to one of the gangs of brigands, which, under two audacious -leaders--Domenico Marotto and Philippo Pachione--divided the peace of -the country between them, allowing none to each other, and depriving -every one else of it. The expected assailants, however, after curiously -eying the governor and his train, permitted them to pass; which his -excellency was very willing to do, though, as chief magistrate, he had -found a whole nest of outlaws. Having formerly signalised himself in the -river fight with the Venetians, and there being no occasion to exercise -any other than "the better part of valour--discretion"--in this affair, -Ariosto felt his honour as safe as his life, in riding on without -offering molestation where he experienced none. But the captain of the -band, being struck with his superior presence, demanded of the hindmost -of his attendants what was his master's name. "Ludovico Ariosto," -replied the other: whereupon, galloping up to him, the freebooter hailed -the poet (who expected a very different salutation) with the most -profound respect and courtesy, introducing himself as Philippo Pachione, -and regretting that, from not having previously known his person, he and -his troop had not done due honour to him in passing. He then launched -out into vehement praises of the "Orlando Furioso" (a poem likely enough -to be the delight of such adventurers), and with all humility and -frankness offered his most devoted services to its author. Baretti's -version of the anecdote is to the following effect:--Ariosto one morning -happened to take a walk in his night-gown and slippers beyond the castle -where he resided, fell into a fit of thought, and forgot himself so -much, that step after step he found himself, when he recovered, already -far from home, and surrounded on a sudden by a troop of desperadoes; who -certainly would have ill used, and perhaps murdered him, had not his -face been known by one of the gang, who, informing his comrades that it -was signor Ariosto, the chief of the banditti addressed him with -intrepid gallantry, and told him, that since his excellency was the -author of "Orlando Furioso," he might be sure that none of his company -would injure him, but would see him, on the contrary, safe to the -castle. This they did, entertaining him all the way with the passages -which they most admired in his poem." Ariosto himself seems to allude to -some such circumstance in the Epistle to S. Maleguccio (Satire V.), -written during his residence in Graffagnana. - - -"Saggio chi dal castel poco si scosta." - -"He's wise who strays but little from the castle." - - -Two of his epistolary Satires are dated from that province; where he -seems to have been as little at home as Ovid in Pontus. In that first -quoted, to Sigismondo Maleguccio, at the end of the first year of his -honourable exile, he says,-- - - -"This is the earliest note, in all the time, -Which I have warbled to the nymphs that guard -The tree, whose leaves I once so long'd to wear: -Such is the strangeness of the place to me, -That I am like a bird, whose cage is changed, -And many a day refrains his wonted song: -My cousin, wonder not that I am mute; -The wonder's greater that I'm not dead with spleen-- -Shut as I am, a hundred miles and more, -By Alps and snow, and streams and woods, from her -Who holds alone the reins of my affection." - -_Satire V._ - - -Sancho Panza, in his island of Barataria, neither administered justice -more wisely, nor was interrupted more provokingly in his personal -indulgences, than Ariosto in his government of Graffagnana; and, -unfortunately for his comfort, the stronghold of Castelnuovo was not -stormed at midnight by some friendly enemy, nor himself ejected by -violence, to his heart's content. The poet's miserable reign lasted -three long years; while the squire of Don Quixote had the happiness to -be relieved from the cares of state in less than as many days. How unfit -for the management of a brute people he deemed himself, may be judged -from the story with which he closes this epistle. - - -"Methinks that I resemble the Venetian -To whom the king of Portugal presented -A noble steed of Mauritanian blood; -Who, to do justice to the royal gift, -Nor once considering, that to turn a helm, -And draw a bridle, are two different things, -Mounted aloft, and with both hands held fast -As at a rudder; then in either flank -Cast anchor with his spurs, and bravely mutter'd, -'I'll warrant ye don't fling me overboard.' -The horse, thus handled, bolted off full speed; -Whereat the gallant seaman pull'd the harder, -And deeper struck the rowels sharp as spears, -Till mouth and reins were tinged with blood and foam. -The beast, not knowing which to obey--the points -That urged him on, or curb that held him back-- -With a few desperate plunges rid himself -Of his strange rider; who, with shatter'd ribs, -Crack'd collar-bone, head broken, all begrimed -With mud and dirt, and pale with fright, crawl'd off -In no good humour with his majesty, -And, far away, bewail'd his horsemanship. -Well had it been for him, and well for me, -If for his charger he, I for my province, -Had said,--'O king! O duke! I am not worthy -Of such high honour; graciously bestow -Your bounty on some other.'" - - -While he was here, M. Bonaventura Pistolfo, secretary to Alfonso, wrote -to invite Ariosto to accept a third embassy to Rome; not on a perilous -and temporary errand, but to reside there as the representative of his -sovereign, "for a year or _two_," at the court of Clement VII. The poet, -however, had sagacity enough to decline putting himself again in the way -of Fortune, where, instead of taking him by the hand, on former -occasions, she had only splashed him with the mud from her wheel as it -rolled through the streets, encumbered with aspiring asses in every -stage of transmigration.[106] His correspondent having intimated that, -besides complying with the duke's pleasure at Rome, he might stand a -chance of obtaining great and fat preferments by favour of a member of -the house of Medici, with which he had been so long and courteously -acquainted, then filling the papal chair; since it was more probable -that he should catch, if he fished in a great river, than in an ordinary -stream; he thus replies, in the seventh Satire:--"I thank you, that the -desire is ever fresh with you to promote my interest, and to change me -from a plough-ox into a Barbary steed. You might command me with fire -and sword to serve the duke, not in Rome only, but in France, Spain, or -India; but if you would fain persuade me that honour and riches may be -got in the way you propose, you must find a different bait, to lure your -bird into that net. As for honour, I have already as much as my heart -could wish: it is enough for me that, at home, I can see more then half -a dozen of my neighbours doff their caps when they meet me, because they -know that I sometimes sit at table with the duke, and obtain a trifling -favour which I seek for myself or a friend. Then, if I have honour -enough to satisfy me, I should have abundance of wealth also; and my -desires, which sometimes wander, would be at rest, if I had just so much -that I could live, and be at liberty, without having to ask any thing of -any one: more than this I never hope to attain. But, since so many of my -friends have had the power to do thus much for me, and I still remain in -poverty and dependence, I will not let her[107], who was so backward to -fly out of the box of the imprudent Epimeteus, to lead me by the muzzle -like a buffalo." Towards the close of this epistle, he intimates that it -is some unconfessed affection which draws him so tenderly and -irresistibly towards his native nest; and adds--"It is well for me that -I can hide myself among these mountains, and that your eyes cannot run a -hundred miles after me, to see whether my cheeks be pale or red at this -acknowledgment. Certainly, if you saw my face at the moment I am -writing, far away as I am, it would appear to you as deeply crimsoned as -that of the father canon was, when he let fall, in the market-place, the -wine-flask which he had stolen from a brother, besides the two that he -had drunk. If I were at your elbow, perhaps you would snatch up a cudgel -to bastinado me, for alleging such a crazy reason why I wish not to live -at a distance from you." - -The attachment insinuated in the enigmatical lines, of which the above -is a prose version, is with equal ambiguity alluded to in the fourth -Satire, addressed to Annibale Maleguccio, where, excusing himself from -going abroad, on the ground that he preferred pursuing his studies at -home, and confining his voyages and travels, though they extended all -over the world, to the maps and charts of Ptolemy, he breaks off -thus:--"Methinks you smile and say, 'Neither the love of country nor -study, but of a lady, is the cause why you will not move.' I frankly -confess it: now shut your mouth; for I will neither take up sword nor -shield to defend a fib." This jest has been taken in earnest, though no -man in his senses would swear on the word of a poet so uttered. Be that -as it may, it is generally understood that his life was sufficiently -dissolute to warrant his correspondent's suspicion; and to require him, -when so charged, to escape with a pleasantry, though it were accompanied -by a blush. - -After three years, being released from the cares of his government, -Ariosto returned, with entire devotion of his time and talents, to the -"sacred college of the Muses;" perfecting his "Orlando" by almost daily -touches, the fruits of habitual meditation upon its multifarious -subjects, to the last year of his life. He likewise revised several -comedies written in his youth, turning them from prose into metre; and -composing others. These were so much admired, that they were often acted -in the court of Alfonso; persons of the highest rank representing the -characters. His earliest and his latest works, therefore, were dramatic, -but certainly not his best: that, indeed, could not be expected; -theatrical performances being comparatively new in Italy, and, in -general, exceedingly crude or exceedingly pedantic. It is said that -Ariosto's plays are yet read with delight by his countrymen: the titles -of them are,--the "Menechini," borrowed from Plautus; "La Cassaria," "I -Suppositi," "La Lena," "Il Negromante," and "La Scholastica;" of which -latter, his brother Gabriele furnished the concluding act, Ludovico -having left it incomplete. A curious anecdote is told of him when a -youth, which is characteristic at once of his phlegm and his acuteness -in the practice of his art.--His father, being displeased by some -juvenile inadvertence, very severely reprimanded him in the presence of -the rest of the family. Ludovico bore the infliction with perfect -composure, neither expressing contrition, nor attempting to justify -himself. When Nicolo had retired, his brother Gabriele remonstrated with -him, both on the imputed fault, and his apparent insensibility of shame -or rebuke. Thereupon the poet so promptly and effectually cleared his -conduct, that his brother, in great astonishment, asked him why he had -not given the same explanation of it to their father. "Because," said -the young dramatist, "I was so busily thinking, all the while, how to -make the best use of what my father said, in my new comedy, in which I -have just such a scene of an old man scolding his boy, that in the -ideal, I forgot the real incident." - -His seven Satires were also composed during the latter years of his -life; but, on account of their irreverence towards high personages both -in church and state, they were not published till a convenient time -after his death. They are in the form of epistles; and, in fact, were -written as such, on real occasions, to the several friends addressed in -them. These pieces allude so much to personal and family circumstances, -that Ariosto's biographers are more indebted to them than to any other -equally authentic source for their materials; and it has been for the -like reason, principally, that such copious extracts have been made from -the same valuable documents in the foregoing pages. In these remarkable -effusions of spleen and pleasantry, there is nothing gaudy or -superficial, to attract ordinary readers; nothing forced or unnatural, -to produce ostentatious effect. The thoughts are thick-sown; the diction -seems to be without effort (the result, no doubt, of consummate art), -being pungent and simple, like the best style of conversation, except -when the subject, at rare intervals, becomes poetical--when at once the -swan of Castaly launches upon the stream, swells into beauty, and rows -in gallant state till the water runs shallow again. There is none of the -stern indignation of Juvenal, nor the harshness and obscurity of -Persius, in these productions; yet, lively, sarcastic, and urbane as -they are, there is almost as little resemblance in them to those fine -but high-toned compositions of Horace, which were, unquestionably, our -author's models--though less for imitation than for rivalry. Like every -other species of literature which Ariosto tried, how much soever he may -have adorned all, these bosom-communications to his intimate friends are -not exempt from occasional obscenities, so repulsive and abominable, -that they cannot be commended and dismissed without this mark of infamy, -which no merits can efface. - -Whether Ariosto, who, according to all accounts, and the lewdness of his -writings, led no very chaste life, were married or not; and, if married, -to whom; are questions which have puzzled his biographers, and are now -of little moment to be settled: no proof of marriage would redeem his -character, or purify his most beautiful poems from the moral defilement -that cleaves to them. His Muse had the plague, and all her offspring are -diseased. An author is not answerable to posterity for the evil of his -_mortal_ life, but for the profligacy of _that_ life which he lives -through after ages, contaminating by irrepressible and incurable -infection the minds of millions--it may be, till the day of -judgment,--he is amenable even in his grave. It is not necessary to -enter further into judgment with the offender before us in this place. - -Married, or not married, Ariosto had two sons, whom he not only openly -avowed as such, but faithfully and affectionately educated them, -according to his knowledge and views of what is good and honourable in -society, for scholars and gentlemen, as he intended them to be. His -epistle to cardinal Bembo (the sixth Satire) is highly creditable to his -parental solicitude for the welfare of his children in this respect: -indeed, he seems to have been exemplary in every relationship of life, -except that which requires personal purity,--a virtue little regarded -either by laymen or ecclesiastics in his day; and, judging by the deeper -taint of their writings, as well as the evidence of their lives, often -held in less esteem by the latter than the former. - -Towards the close of the year 1532, Ariosto was seized with illness, -brought on, it was said, by agitation, when the sumptuous theatre -erected by the duke of Ferrara, for the exhibition of his comedies, was -consumed by fire; or, as his physicians, with more probability, -conjectured, by indigestion, from the habit of eating fast, and bolting -his food almost unmasticated. Whatever might have been the cause, the -disorder terminated in his death about the midsummer following. - -In the same year that he was thus mortally stricken, he had put his last -hand to the "Orlando Furioso," and left the poem in that form in which -it appears, in forty-six cantos; the five additional ones, which have -always been deemed unworthy of such a connection, having been published -for the first time in 1545, twelve years afterwards. Among what may be -deemed the apocryphal traditions concerning Ariosto, it has been -affirmed and contradicted, with very questionable evidence on either -side, that he received the laurel from the hands of the emperor Charles -V., in the city of Mantua, twelve months before his death. The very -circumstance of a reasonable doubt being raised respecting a fact, -which, if it had occurred, must have been known throughout all Italy, -Germany, France, and Spain, seems almost sufficient to invalidate the -story. One of his biographers (Minchino) says, that when Ariosto felt -the crown upon his brows, placed there by so august a personage, he went -beside himself for joy; and ran about the streets as much out of his -wits, for the time, as his own hero. It may be remarked, that nothing -could have been more out of character than such extravagance in a person -of Ariosto's temperament, who (whatever licence he granted to his Muse -in his writings, or to his passions in secret), in public, always -maintained a dignity and manliness of demeanour, which commanded -respect, and showed that he never forgot his honourable birth, or waved -the consciousness of intellectual superiority; though he was careful -that neither of these advantages should encroach upon the jealous or -vindictive sensibility of others. - -Ariosto in person was tall and strong-boned, but stooping a little, and -slow in his gait as well as in all his motions. His countenance, judging -from Titian's portrait,--the lofty forehead a little bald, the black -curled locks behind, and corresponding beard upon a jutting chin, the -elevated brows above the dark bright eyes, the Roman nose, lips -eloquently moulded, teeth "passing even and white," thin cheeks, -complexion slightly olive, long visage, well-proportioned neck, and -shoulders square,--his countenance, with features such as these, might -altogether have been deemed the _beau idéal_ which the first painter -had conceived of the first poet of the age, had not contemporary -testimonies assured us that the whole was not more happily than -correctly copied from the living model. - -There is little of tenderness, and less of stern sublimity, in any of -his poems; and yet it is uniformly affirmed that his aspect and manner -were grave, melancholic, and contemplative,--from habit, probably, more -than from nature; for in company he was affable, and his conversation -peculiarly captivating to women, whom, no doubt, he laid himself out to -please, and with whom he was no small favourite. So far, also, as they -could appreciate his merit, and endure that aristocracy of mind which -pressed hard upon the heels of hereditary rank, or mushroom vanity -raised from stercorarious heaps in ecclesiastical hotbeds, his society -was courted by the greatest personages in church and state, including -popes, cardinals, and sovereign princes. Unassuming, but not indifferent -to slights or wrongs from the highest with whom he was associated, he -led, on the whole, a feverish life between resolute poverty and -precarious dependence, with the continual temptation to rise to wealth -by means which he abhorred, and for which he must have abhorred himself -had he stooped to employ them. - -Of persons of the other sex, who, from time to time, caught his -wandering affections, the names of two (whether real or disguised) have -been preserved--Alexandra and Guenevra. It is understood that the former -(to whom he may have been privately married) was the mother of his two -sons,--Giambattista, who devoted himself to a military life, and -Virginio, who obtained distinction in literature. For the other lady, -his passion might be no more than a poetical one--she being married, and -a mother, in an honourable family of Florence akin to his own. Finding -her one day adorning a silk coat for one of her children, so as to -resemble armour by the devices--the ground silver, and the embroidery -purple--against a festival spectacle, at which the lad was to figure in -it on Midsummer Eve, he was so inspired by the hand and the needle, that -he celebrated their performance in the twenty-fourth book of the -"Orlando Furioso;" where, describing a wound, "not deep but long," -received in combat with Mandricardo by Zerbino, from which the blood -trickled over his splendid panoply, the poet introduces the following -admired but frigid simile:-- - - -"Le lucide arme il caldo sangue irriga -Per sino al piè de rubiconda riga. -"Cosi talora un bel purpureo nastro -Ho veduto partir tela d' argento, -Da quella bianca man più ch' alabastro, -Da cui partire il cor spesso mi sento." - -"The warm blood, with a crimson rivulet, -Down to the foot his shining armour wet. -"So have I seen a beauteous purple zone -Divide a web of silver, by the art -Of that white hand, outvying Parian stone, -Which oft I feel dividing thus my heart." - - -This is much more in the strain of fanciful passionless ideality (like -Petrarch's mistress, and his praises of her), than warm, ingenuous, -honest love, "whose dwelling is the heart of man," and whose language is -that of nature, which all may understand who ever knew affection. In the -same vein of ingenious artificial compliment and conceit (often, indeed, -elegant and captivating to the mind at ease, and amusing itself with -love in idleness) are the Elegies, Sonnets, and Madrigals of -Ariosto;--all calculated more to set off the beauties of his Muse than -of his mistress; and rather to command admiration of himself, than to do -honour to her, whom, though a divinity in song, and adored with -magnificent rites, he worships with nearly as little devotion as an idol -deserves. Of the following sonnet (the nineteenth in the series), Paolo -Rolli says, "_non è stata mai scritta poesia più sublime_,"--"poetry -more sublime was never written." It would be hard to persuade any -Englishman of this. - - -"Chiuso era il Sol da un tenebroso velo, -Che si stendea fino all' estreme sponde -Dell' orizonte, e mormorar le fronde -S' udiano, e tuoni andar scorrendo il cielo. -Di pioggia, in dubbio, o tempestoso gelo, -Stav' io per gire oltre le torbid' onde -Del fiume altier che il gran sepolcro asconde, -Del figlio audace del Signor di Delo:-- -"Quando apparir sull' altra ripa il lume -De bei vostr' occhij vidi, e udij parole -Che Leandro potean farmi quel giorno. -E tutto a un tempo i nuvoli d'intorno -Si dileguaro, e si scoperse il Sole, -Tacquero i venti, e tranquillossi 'l fiume." - -"The sun was shrouded with a gloomy veil -That reach'd the dim horizon's utmost bound, -The forest leaves were heard to murmur round, -And distant thunder peal'd along the gale. -In doubt I stood, of rain or pelting hail, -By the proud river, rapid and profound, -Wherein Apollo's daring son was drown'd[108], -Afraid to dip the oar or hoist the sail: -"When, from the farther bank, the light I saw -Of your fair eyes, and heard a voice, of power -To make Leander of me in that hour. -At once the clouds their dark array withdraw, -The sun brake forth, the rainbow climb'd the hill, -The winds were silent, and the waters still." - - -The foregoing version has been rendered as little paraphrastic as might -be (though the eighth line is interpolated); but all rhymed translations -from the Italian, in the same number of lines as the original, must be -encumbered either with additional thought or verbiage--our language -being altogether more brief in syllabic composition. - -The society of Ariosto was courted by the learned and the polite; not -for his wit and intelligence only, but for the privilege of hearing his -latest compositions, as they came warm from his mind, or were gradually -wrought to perfection by that patient labour for which he was -distinguished, and to which he is indebted for as much of his glory as -to the creative energy of his genius itself. For when he had originated, -by force of invention, his most admired performances, he never ceased to -improve them afterwards by touches innumerable, exquisite, and -undiscerned by ordinary eyes, till the art which effected the changes at -length disappeared in its own consummation, and those seemed to be the -first thoughts in the first words, which were really the last -transmigrations of the former through the latter. No poet of any age has -more inseparably identified his conceptions with his language than -Ariosto; in fact, his ideas themselves are so vernacular, that they can -scarcely be made to speak any other than their native tongue; they defy -translation. Nothing, indeed, can be easier than to render the literal -meaning in dictionary terms; yet nothing less resembling the original in -all that constitutes its prime excellence--grace, freedom, and -simplicity--can be imagined than these. Of the "Orlando Furioso" there -are three English versions: that by sir John Harrington, in the reign of -queen Elizabeth, is coarse, careless, and unfaithful; that of Hoole, -about fifty years ago, tame, diffuse, and prosaic; the recent one by W. -S. Rose, esq., elegant, spirited, and probably as true to the text as -any readable paraphrase can be under the difficulties aforementioned. - -While this magnificently wild and sportive work was in progress, and -after its first publication, during the refining process through which -it was continually passing till the last year of his own life, the poet -was accustomed to read, at the courts of Hippolito and Alfonso, and in -other favoured circles, the cantos as they were produced, revised, or -had received their final polish. This accounts partly for the manner in -which the hundredfold story is told,--not as recorded in a book, but as -delivered spontaneously before princes and prelates, scholars and -gentry, assembled to listen to the marvellous adventures of knights and -ladies, giants and enchanters, from the lips of the gifted narrator. -Ariosto excelled in the practice of reading aloud, whether the subjects -were his own, or those of his illustrious predecessors or -contemporaries; to which his melodious voice, distinct utterance, and -versatile spirit gave peculiar emphasis and animation. This -accomplishment was of great value after the revival of letters, when -books were scarce, and authors depended, for pecuniary recompence, more -upon the gratuities of patrons, than upon honourable profits from -extensive sales of their writings. But though he was thus master of the -rarest art of speech,--good reading, especially of verse, being seldomer -attained (perhaps because it is less duly appreciated) than eloquent -declamation,--he was never forward either to begin, by obtruding it upon -his friends for his own gratification, nor slow to leave off when he had -wearied himself for others. As his ear was nice, and his taste pure in -this respect, he was proportionately offended by indifferent, vulgar, or -boisterous recitation. The story is told of him, that one day, passing a -potter's shop, he heard the unlettered artisan singing, in harsh and -ill-accented numbers, a stave of the "Orlando." According to sir John -Harrington, it was the thirty-second in the first canto[109],--and this -will do as well as any other in a questionable tale,--in which Rinaldo -tries to catch his horse, with as little success as many a groom and -gentleman has done before and since. The poet, as little able to keep -his temper as his hero on the occasion, rushed among the crockery, -smashing now one piece, then another, on the right hand and on the left, -with his walking-stick. The potter, half paralised and half frantic, -hastily, yet hesitatingly, enquired why the gentleman should thus injure -a poor fellow who had done him no harm? No harm, man?" replied the -enraged author, "I am scarcely even with thee yet: I have cracked three -or four wretched jugs of thine, not worth a groat, and thou hast been -mangling and murdering a stanza of mine worth a mark of gold!" Unluckily -for the credit of this sally of professional petulance, the same -anecdote has been told of Camoens, the Portuguese, who lived half a -century later; and something like it of Philoxenus, who lived nearly -2000 years earlier. Yet the tradition concerning Ariosto may be true; -who, remembering the classic precedent, might choose to follow it in a -case where no redress could be looked for, except from taking the law -into his own hands. At the worst, such an outrage must have been a piece -of caustic pleasantry; and it may be taken for granted, that the -sufferer was well compensated for having afforded the poet no very -disagreeable opportunity of indulging his humour; since, however the -learned may pretend to despise the opinions of the multitude, there is -scarcely any proof of fame more flattering to the proudest aspirant, -than a cross-wind of popular applause. Cervantes, who well understood -the secrets of a poet's breast, goes farther, and, with consummate -propriety, makes the student, whose verses had been commended to the -skies by Don Quixote, say within himself,--"How sweet is praise, even -from the lips of a madman!" - -Of Ariosto's personal habits, some whimsical peculiarities have been -mentioned, not worth repeating, except to gratify the very natural -curiosity--call it impertinent who will--which most readers feel to -learn all that they can about a favourite author. He himself confesses -that he could scarcely distinguish the different kinds of food; and it -has been already seen that he was in the practice of eating -voraciously.--A friend, who had invited him to an entertainment for the -diversion of the company, ordered a roasted _kite_ to be palmed upon him -for a _partridge_. By the blunder of a servant, the carrion was set -before a nicer guest, who smelled the joke, if he did not relish it, and -the poet escaped the savoury snare.--A stranger, calling upon him once -when he had just sat down to dinner, Ariosto eagerly ate up all the -"short commons" which had been provided, while the other was -entertaining him with most excellent discourse. Being afterwards -reproved by his brother for lack of hospitality, he coolly -replied,--"The loss was the gentleman's own; he should have taken care -of himself." His rudeness and hurry at table were attributed principally -to fits of rumination or absence of mind; and if he sometimes -over-satisfied his appetite, he did not usually indulge it with more -than one meal a day. - -Quite in consonance with the poet's reveries were his raptures of -execution. After wandering in a day-dream of thought, he would suddenly -sit down and disburthen his overcharged brain with effusions of song, -that seemed as spontaneous as spring showers that fall in gusts through -broad sunshine, though they have been long collecting in the zenith; or, -he would start from "a brown study" at midnight, and call upon his -servant Gianni to bring pen, ink, and paper immediately, that he might -fix, before they vanished for ever, the imaginations which had charmed -him in his trance. The "Orlando" thus appeared to come to him, canto by -canto, as the Koran to Mahomet; and no doubt the one was as truly -inspired as the other. His early reading had so filled and fertilised -his mind, that he subsisted in thought almost exclusively on the -inexhaustible harvests perpetually produced from the remembrances of -that; and in his latter years was so indolent, or so indifferent a -searcher of the writings of others, that he frequently passed weeks -without turning over the pages of any except his own,--in which, like -the spider, he seemed to have a personal existence; so diffusing himself -through them, that it might be said of him, that, not with a touch only, -"exquisitely fine," he could "feel the whole thread," but also "live -along the line." - -In his last hours, he is represented as maintaining his philosophical -tranquillity,--neither affecting stoical sternness, nor the hideous -jocularity of some, who, to hide their misgivings, die "as a fool -dieth." He professed to leave the world without much regret--having -never, indeed, been very well satisfied with his portion in it; and, -believing that in a future state men would know each other, he observed, -that he should be happy to meet many whom he loved, and who had gone -before him. How content to die in the dark are men of the highest -faculties, and otherwise of the most inquisitive minds, who have never -known, or who have rejected, the truth of that Gospel by which life and -immortality were brought to light! - -As might be expected on the demise of one so celebrated for genius, -sonnets, elegies, and epitaphs in abundance were composed and published -to his honour. His body was buried in the church of the Benedictines at -Ferrara, when the monks of that order, contrary to their usual reserve, -accompanied the funeral procession: a plain slab of marble being laid -over the grave, was presently over-run with Greek, Latin, and Italian -verses, as the natural products of so poetical a spot. His son Virginio -afterwards prepared a chapel and sepulchre for his parent, in the garden -of the house which he had himself built, and where he had spent many of -his last and happiest days. But the good fathers had such reverence for -the relics of a poet, who certainly was any thing rather than a saint, -and whom no pope would canonise, that they would not allow their -removal. In process of time. Agostino Mosti, a man of letters, who in -early life was a disciple of the deceased, seeing no memorial worthy of -his master's fame erected, at his own expense caused a tablet (worthy at -least of himself) to be placed in the aforesaid church of the -Benedictines, with a bust upon the tomb beneath, and a Latin inscription -by Lorenzo Fiesoli. A monument more superb was erected, nearly a century -later, by Ludovico his grand-nephew, bearing also a Latin inscription. -Neither of these, nor even that which the poet composed in the same -language for himself, need be inserted here; the two former being in the -common-place style of posthumous panegyric, and the latter quaint and -puerile, though of sufficient significance to have been imitated by -Pope, with reckless profaneness, in the ribald lines which he wrote for -himself. - - -"Under this stone, or under this sill," &c. - - -The house which he built (as formerly mentioned), with its humble -inscription, is yet shown as a monument more interesting to the eye of -the enthusiastic admirer of the poet, than any marble effigies, however -gorgeously or exquisitely wrought, could be: it brings the spectator -into personal contact with himself, by local and domestic association. -But in this respect, the chair in which he was wont to meditate; and the -inkstand from which he filled his pen to disburthen his thoughts, when -they flowed, as they did at times, like the juice of full ripe grapes -from their own pressure,--if these relics are genuine,--must be -incomparably the most touching and inspiring memorials of his life and -his labours. - -Of Ariosto's grand performance, it would be vain to sketch the outline, -or enter into formal criticism here: sufficient indications of the -present biographer's estimate of the author's powers and style of -composition have been already given. It would be idle and hopeless to -censure or carp at particulars, where little can be commended beyond the -talent with which a web of wonders and horrors (the easiest and cheapest -products of invention) has been so skilfully woven into poetical -tapestry, as not only to invest the most preposterous fictions with the -vividness of reality, but to charm or conciliate readers of all classes, -from those of the severest taste to those most akin to mere animal -appetite; disarming the indignation of the former by exquisite -playfulness, and transporting the latter by that marvellous intrepidity -of fibbing to which many a minstrel and romancer was formerly indebted -for his popularity. The fact is, that though, with inimitable gravity, -Ariosto tells story after story (or rather story within story), -deserving no better appellation than that which his patron Hippolito -bestowed upon his fictions when he asked, "_Messer Ludovico, dove avete -cogliate tante coglionere?_" "Where, master Ludovico, have you picked up -so many fooleries?" yet Cervantes himself had not a keener sense of -ridicule, nor in his happiest sallies was he more expert in humour or -irony, than this "prince of liars," as the curate in "Don Quixote" -designates a certain traveller. He describes, indeed, every scene, -event, and character throughout his world of nonentities, as they might -have been described, had they been actual and not imaginary: yet it is -frequently manifest, that, while he appears to be writing romance, he is -composing satire; and though he delights in prodigies for their own -sake, yet, wherever they exceed the _probable of the marvellous_, he is -not only alive to their absurdity, but rejoices to expose it, and turn -extravagance itself into pleasantry. - -In canto XXVI., Rinaldo, Ricciardetto, and Ruggiero, assisted by -Marphisa (whom, in her martial accoutrements, they do not perceive to be -a woman of war), massacre, without let or hindrance, two bodies of Moors -and Magauzes, whom they surprise at market together. This, in plain -prose, is the style in which the butchery is described:--"Marphisa, as -she fought by their side, often turned her eyes towards her companions -in arms; and witnessing with wonder their rival achievements, she -extolled them all in turn: but the stupendous prowess of Ruggiero, -especially, appeared to her without example in the world; so that she -was ready to imagine him Mars, who had descended from the fifth heaven -to that quarter. She beheld his terrible strokes; she beheld them -falling never in vain: it seemed as though, against Balisarda (his -sword), iron was paper, and not hard metal; for it split helmets and -strong cuirasses; it cleft riders down to their saddles, throwing one -half of the man on the right hand, the other on the left; and not -stopping there, the same blow slew the horse with his lord. Heads from -their shoulders it hurled into the air, and often cut sheer the trunk -from the loins; five, and even more, with one motion it sometimes -despatched; and if I did not fear that truth would not find credit, but -be taken for a lie, I could tell greater things: it is, therefore, -expedient rather to tell less than I might. The good archbishop Turpin, -who knows very well that he speaks the truth, and leaves every one to -believe it or not as he pleases, relates such marvellous feats of -Ruggiero, that, hearing them repeated, you would say they were -falsehoods. Before Marphisa, every warrior seemed to be ice, and she -consuming flame: nor did she less attract the eyes of Ruggiero towards -herself, than he had won hers to him; and if she deemed him to be Mars, -he might have thought her to be Bellona, had he as well known her to be -a lady as her appearance indicated the contrary. Perhaps the emulation -then begotten between them, was no good thing for those miserable -people, on whose flesh, blood, bones, and sinews, proof was made how -much each could do." - -Now, what sympathy can be felt in such unequal conflicts? No more, -verily, than with the fate and fortunes of the elephants and castles, -the kings, queens, bishops, knights, and commonalty on a chess-board, in -a game between an adept and a novice, which is up in a few moments, -neither exalting the winner nor disparaging the loser, nor affecting -life, limb, character, or feeling in regard to one of the puppets -employed in the play. Of the same class are all the combats between -invulnerable heroes, and those who wield weapons of enchantment: the -irresistible spear of Bradamante, that unhorsed every antagonist whom it -touched; the magic horn of Astolpho, that routed armies with a blast; -Ruggiero's veiled shield, the dazzling splendour of which, when suddenly -disclosed, struck with blindness and astonishment all eyes that beheld -it. Of the latter, the author himself grows weary or ashamed, and makes -his hero so too; though, with remarkable dexterity, he turns into a -glorious act of heroic virtue, the voluntary riddance of it by the -indignant Ruggiero, who throws it into a hidden well, in a nameless -forest in an undiscovered land, after having won too cheap a victory by -its accidental exposure. In these two instances (and many others might -be quoted), Ariosto laughs at his own extravagances, with as much -pleasantry as Cervantes himself at those of others: and it may, perhaps, -be affirmed that he does it with more tact and good sense, for it must -be acknowledged that few outrages upon nature in the tales of chivalry, -which the Spaniard justly ridicules, are felt by the reader to be more -improbable than the crazy imitations of them by the knight of La Mancha, -whose pranks could only be attempted by one absolutely insane, and -therefore were as little a fair mark for satire as for censure. Ariosto -has this advantage over Cervantes,--that whatever is great, glorious, or -admirable in romance, he can seriously set forth in all the pomp and -eloquence of verse of the highest species; while whatever is mean, -farcical, or monstrous, he can exhibit in strains of facetiousness, at -once as grave and as poignant as those in which the celebrated assault -on the windmills, the rout of the sheep, or the gross sensuality of -Sancho Panza, are given, without descending into caricature; though no -small portion of his whole poem belongs to the grotesque, and happily -the plan admits of every variety of style from Homer to Lucian. - -Neither the dulness nor the licence of allegory can be pleaded in -extenuation of those unnatural circumstances, in which absurdity is at -once exemplified and ridiculed, as though the caprice of genius -delighted as much in the offence against taste as in the castigation of -it. Allegorical, indeed, some of his fancies notoriously are; but those -who have attempted to "moralise" the "fierce wars and faithful loves" of -his song, as many have done (and few more egregiously than sir John -Harrington, in the quaint essay annexed to his barbarous translation), -might have employed their time as profitably in raking moonshine out of -water, which flies off into millions of sparkles the moment it is -disturbed, but is no sooner let alone than it subsides into the quiet -and beautiful image of the orb above, which it showed before. It cannot -be said of Ariosto, as Addison, in a miserable couplet, says of -Spenser-- - - -"His long-spun allegories tiresome grow, -While the dull moral lies too plain below." - - -The moral may be there, but it would require a diviner's rod to detect -its presence, and the skill of him who set himself to extract sunbeams -from cucumbers, to draw it thence. - -The "Orlando Furioso" of Ariosto is a continuation of the "Orlando -Innamorato" of Boiardo, lord of Scandiano, his contemporary, but elder, -the latter having died in the year 1494. The relative circumstances of -the two poems form one of the most curious chapters in the history of -literature. Boiardo's work, in the original, is comparatively little -known, and less read, even in Italy; but it has been made famous -throughout the world, by having given birth to its more illustrious -successor. Whatever were the defects of the one author, or the -excellences of the other, Ariosto was undoubtedly indebted to his -forerunner, not only for many of the most powerful and captivating -fictions of his poem, but for its intelligibility and popularity from -the beginning. The latter was an immense advantage: half of the success -in a race depends upon a good start; the eagle himself cannot rise -from flat ground as from the rock, whence he launches at once into -mid-air. By the "Morgante Maggiore" of Pulci, the legends and songs of -the Provençals, and the pretended chronicle of archbishop Turpin, the -public mind had been familiarised with the traditions concerning Arthur -and his knights of the round table; of Merlin the British enchanter, and -the Lady of the Lake; and of Charlemagne and his peers. Yet it was the -intense interest and curiosity excited by Boiardo's magnificent but -uncompleted plot, which (so far as the principal personages are -concerned), like - - -"The story of a bear and fiddle, -Begins, but breaks off in the middle"-- - - -it was these which had prepared the eager and delighted multitude of -readers, or rather listeners, for any sequel to his "tales of wonder," -which should keep up the spirit of the original, and bring it to a -crowning conclusion. These, therefore, with transport proportioned to -their surprise, hailed the appearance of Ariosto's production, when, -after having been long promised, they found that it not only exceeded -their expectations, but eclipsed in splendour, beauty, and variety, the -prototype itself. This was so remarkably the case, that one of the -wittiest and most ingenious of his contemporaries recomposed the whole -of Boiardo's poem; imitating, with farcical extravagance, the fine -raillery and unapproachable humour of Ariosto; and falling in the same -ratio beneath him in elegance, majesty, and grace, when the themes -admitted or required adornment. Thus, by an unexampled fatality, the -"Orlando Innamorato" was outshone by a sequel, and superseded by a -_rifacimento_ (we have no English word to express the renovating -process). Authors themselves have almost universally failed in _second -parts_ to their most successful performances; and as rarely have they -re-written such works, so as to take place of the first form in which -they obtained public favour[110]; yet here, on the one hand, is a second -part, by an imitator, that leaves the original in obscurity, yet covers -it with glory--like Butler's description of die moon's veil-- - - -"Mysterious veil! of brightness made, -At once her lustre and her shade;" - - -while, on the other hand, we have the example of a new gloss of that -original, by a meddler becoming the substitute for it, like the new skin -of a serpent when the old slough is cast aside. - -The mischances of Boiardo's poem ended not here. It was not published -during the author's life, except by oral communication among his -friends; what he had composed, had not received the corrections due to -its worth and his own talents; and the work itself being left imperfect -at the ninth canto, one Nicolo degli Agostini took up the strain there, -and added so much matter as brought the various subjects involved in it -to a consistent termination. A fourth experiment was made upon this -polypus production, which multiplied its vitality the more, the more it -was mangled. Ludovico Dominici recomposed the whole, and printed the -metamorphosis at Venice in 1545: of this, several editions appeared; but -it neither supplanted Berni's, nor even rivalled the original in -popularity. Thus the love and madness of Orlando was conceived, and -partly executed, by one mind; continued to a certain point by another; -new-modelled and incorporated with his own inventions by a third; -re-written by a fourth; but, above all, imitated, completed, and -excelled by a fifth. - -The felicity of fortune which distinguished Ariosto's poem, was not less -rare than the eccentric transmigrations to which Boiardo's was -condemned. The "Orlando Furioso" was both an imitation and a sequel of -the "Orlando Innamorato;" yet, contrary to all precedent, and without -example in subsequent literature, the imitation surpassed the original, -and the sequel the first draught. It was the offspring of one mind; it -was produced entire by the inventor, and never altered by any hand but -his own. Yet, after its first completion, it underwent a process of -revisal nearly as long and laborious as that of composition; like a -bird, it arrived not at the perfection of its song, or the full glory of -its plumage, in the breeding season, nor till after its first moulting. -It is strange, that, with all these advantages, there should still -remain several glaring inconsistencies, which one hour's pains would -have removed, had the author been aware of what any ordinary reader -might detect. - -The poem consists of the contemporaneous adventures of many knights, -ladies, and other personages, travelling in all lands, known and -unknown, of the old continent, the moon, hell, and purgatory; those of -each individual, in fact, forming a distinct story, begun, dropped, -renewed, or concluded according to the pleasure of the narrator, who -excites and keeps up, by every species of provoking artifice, the -tortured yet unwearying curiosity of his hearers. And these materials, -anomalous as they may seem, and as they are, he moulds and mixes with -inimitable skill, and bodies them forth, as by magic, into such -captivating forms, by varying, interweaving, disentangling, and cutting -short the numberless threads of his many-coloured web, that he fails not -to produce a present effect in every passage, with little recollection -on the reader's part of its agreement with the past, as little regard to -its connection with any thing but itself, and no care whatever about its -future influence on the issue of the whole. The fable is a hydra, of -which the Orlando, whose name it bears, is only one of the heads; and no -otherwise entitled to pre-eminence, than as the hero of some of the most -stupendous, amusing, and puerile events in a series not less -heterogeneous or tragi-comic than the changes and chances of a holiday -pantomime. It cannot be denied that the poem has a beginning and an end, -with a prodigious quantity of action between, as the succession of -pages, and the number of cantos, evince; but to prove that it has a -necessary beginning, a decided progress, and a satisfactory end, would -be a task which the author himself would have laughed to see a critic -employed upon. - -A hundred rivers springing from one well-head upon a mountain-top above -the clouds; descending, as the slope broadens, in as many directions; -and varying towards the lowlands with such sinuosities, that whoever -traces one stream, will find it suddenly disappearing under ground; -another emerging at that very point, traversing the surface in a -contrary direction for a while, then dipping in like manner; while a -third, a fourth, a fifth, and onward to the hundredth, in succession, do -the same; each, in the track of the untiring explorer, showing itself -and vanishing again and again, till utterly lost;--such are the -vagaries of this romance of imagination, yet conducted in such organised -confusion, that the mind is bewildered but for a moment, when a fresh -"change comes o'er the spirit of the (poet's) dream," and the reader is -absorbed, borne away, and contented to float along the tide of the tale, -unfinished before, then newly taken up, and never flagging in interest, -nor eventually impaired by all its abrupt discontinuances. - -Incoherent, however, as the whole tissue of this and every other romance -of chivalry must be, there is a moral interest in such fables, that lies -deeper than any affected allegory, or the innocent gratification which -marvellous stories will ever supply to human minds, loving and grasping -at whatever is beyond their reach; an appetite for the great, the -glorious, and the unknown, which intimates their spiritual nature, and -their immortal destiny, by desires towards things out of the body, -independent of the material universe, and contrary to the results of -ordinary experience. These fictions, notwithstanding their unnatural and -impossible details, picture real manners, characters, and events, such -as were peculiar to the transition-age of modern society, in the most -civilised regions of the Old World, when the blood of Goths and Vandals -from the north, Greeks and Romans from the south of Europe, Moors from -the west of Africa, and Arabs from the east of Asia, mingled in -confluent streams round the shores of the Mediterranean; when, often -engaging in war, commerce, or political alliances, they gradually -associated their races, and originated new nations according to their -respective localities. Hence the superstitions, customs, languages, and -habits of life among the most heterogeneous tribes, bordering on the -fallen empire of the Cæsars (their common prey), were engrafted upon -those of the refined and intellectual people whom luxury had effeminated -and prepared for subjugation by more enterprising and energetic, though -at best but semi-barbarian, conquerors. Hence we frequently find, in -chivalrous records, the most gross and incongruous stories of Oriental, -African, or Scandinavian growth, allied to archetypes in classical -mythology, or derived from ancient history; and only modified, enriched, -distorted, or aggravated in grandeur, complexity, or terrible beauty, by -those who adopted them,--the rhymers and romancers, even in the rudest -periods, blending all together, or borrowing from each, according to -their fancy. There is scarcely an image, a monster, or an incident in -all their raving chronicles--wild as the dreams of lunatics, or -beautiful as those of infants are supposed to be--which cannot be traced -to Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Lucan, or Statius; so narrow is the range of -human invention; and so inextricably connected with what we have heard, -and read, and seen, are all the imaginations or the thoughts of the -heart of the most original genius. - -But the champions and the damsels, the giants and enchanters, nay, the -dragons, the hippogriffs, and the demons themselves, in these legends, -are but poetical representations of real classes and characters in -society, such as existed, or were formed by the circumstances of the -times, when war was the business, and gallantry the pastime of life, -among the hybrid populations both of Christian and Mohammedan countries. -The actors in the dramas of romance were, indeed, masked and buskined to -raise them to heroic stature; yet the most disguised of these -personages, in principle, passion, taste, and pursuit, were real men and -women, magnified into monsters, like flies and spiders when looked upon -through the eye-glass of a microscope. Orlando was but an exaggeration -of the chevalier Bayard, as was the British Arthur of the English -Richard, and Charlemagne himself of Francis I. - -Ariosto, in following the fashion of contemporaries, lighted upon a -theme to which his wayward and versatile genius was peculiarly adapted, -and which gave it an opportunity of displaying all its peculiarities to -the utmost advantage. Of these, the most enviable and least imitable is -that perfection of art, which he perhaps possessed beyond every other -writer, to say things naturally. All his wonders and prodigies are made -so easy and probable, that to the most fastidious reader, who does not -resolutely resist the spell of the poet, and deprive himself of the -pleasure of being beguiled by it, they appear as they would do if they -were actual events, from the daylight effect of his truth-telling style; -for whenever his delight in the extravagant carries him beyond the -legitimately marvellous, he disarms resentment, and prevents the laugh -against himself by a quiet pleasantry,--becoming himself the Cervantes -of his own Quixotes. Satirists, however, have done little to improve -mankind: they have condemned and promoted vice; they have ridiculed and -recommended folly. Instead of being the most chaste, severe, and -instructive, it is notorious that (with few exceptions) they have been -the most profligate, pernicious, and corrupting of all writers. Many of -the most illustrious deserve to be crowned and decapitated, and their -laurelled heads fixed on poles round the heights of Parnassus, as -warnings to others, while they affect to expose sin, not to betray -virtue; and while they declaim against lewdness, not to become panders -to debauch the young, the innocent, and the unsuspecting. To go no -farther than the example before us. If ever man deserved poetical -honours, Ariosto did; and if ever poet deserved the curse of posterity -for the prostitution of high talents, Ariosto does. Without presuming to -judge him, even for his worst offences, beyond the present world, it had -been better for many of his readers,--why should we not say, at once, -for all of them?--that he had never been born. Whatever be her beauty, -his Muse has a cancerous sore upon her face, which cannot be looked upon -without loathing by any eye, not wilfully blind, where it ought to be -eagle-sighted. - - -[Footnote 94: History of Leo X. vol. I. p. 91. 4to.] - -[Footnote 95: The lightning did not spare the laurelled bust of Ariosto, -on his monument at Ferrara, some years ago; for the wreath (being of -_iron_) was struck off from the marble temples by a flash, which entered -the church during a thunderstorm.] - -[Footnote 96: "At Bologna, Michel Angelo erected, in front of the church -of St Petronio, a statue of Julius II. in bronze, which he is said to -have executed so as to express, in the most energetic manner, those -qualities for which he was distinguished; giving grandeur and majesty to -his person, and courage, promptitude, and ferociousness to his -countenance, while even the drapery was remarkable for the boldness and -magnificence of its folds. When Julius saw the model, and observed the -vigour of the attitude, and the energy with which the right arm was -extended, he enquired from the artist, whether he meant to represent him -as dispensing his benediction or his curse. Michel Angelo prudently -replied, that he meant to represent him in the act of admonishing the -citizens of Bologna. In return, the artist requested to know from his -holiness, whether he would have a book in his hand. 'No,' replied -Julius; 'give me a sword, I am no scholar.'"--_Roscoe's Leo X._ vol. IV. -p. 306. 4to edition.] - -[Footnote 97: Leo X. vol. II. p. 52.] - -[Footnote 98: Ariosto seems to have had a horror of travelling under any -circumstances:-- - -"Men's tastes are various: one prefers the church, -The camp another; this his native soil, -That foreign countries; as for me, who will -May travel to and fro, to visit France, -Spain, England, Hungary; but I love home. -Lombardy, Rome, and Florence I have seen; -The mountains that divide, and those that gird, -Fair Italy, and either sea that bathes her; -This is enough for me. Without expense -Of innkeepers, I roam with Ptolemy -O'er all the world beside, in peace or war; -I sail on every sea, nor make vain vows -When lightnings flash, for, safe, along the chart, -I see more lands than from the reeling deck." - -_Satire IV._] - -[Footnote 99: Apollo and the Muses are supposed to speak here, and -Ariosto replies to them.] - -[Footnote 100: The cardinal's steward.] - -[Footnote 101: "E fin ch'a Roma s'andò a far leone." - -_Satire IV._ - -"a crearlo -Leon d' umile agnel." - -_Satire VII._] - -[Footnote 102: Annibale Maleguccio, to whom the Satire is addressed.] - -[Footnote 103: A serpent, supposed to have horns; probably the hooded -snake of the East Indies,--one of the most venomous and deadly of the -kind: here it is the emblem of avarice.] - -[Footnote 104: "Ch' ogni quiete sia, nè ve n' è alcuna."] - -[Footnote 105: "Vi si vide anco che ciascun che ascende -Commincia a _inasinir_ le prime membre, -E resta umano quel che a dietro paude."] - -[Footnote 106: See the emblem already quoted from Satire VII.] - -[Footnote 107: Hope, that remained at the bottom of Pandora's fatal gift -to the brother of Prometheus.] - -[Footnote 108: The Po, into which Phaëton was struck from the chariot -of the Sun.] - -[Footnote 109: "Non molto va Rinaldo, che si vede -Saltar innanzi il suo destrier feroce: -'Ferma, Bajardo mio, deh! ferme il piede; -Che l'esser senza te troppo mi noce.' -Per questo il destrier sordo a lui non riede, -Anzi più se ne va sempre veloce; -Segue Rinaldo, e d'ira si distrugge: ---Ma sequitiamo Angelica, che fugge." - -"Not far hath gone Rinaldo, ere he spies -His fiery steed before him, bounding free: -'Stay, my Bayardo! prythee stay,' he cries; -'For much am I annoy'd for lack of thee.' -Yet the deaf horse returns not, nor replies, -Save with his heels that swift and swifter flee. -Rinaldo follows, fuming in the race, ---But we must give the flying lady chase."] - -[Footnote 110: Witness the total miscarriage of Tasso, in his -"Gerusalemme Conquistata," as an improvement upon the "Gerusalemme -Liberata;" and of Akenside, in his philosophic revision of the -"Pleasures of Imagination."] - - - - -MACHIAVELLI - -1469-1522 - - -There is no more delightful literary task than the justifying a hero or -writer, who has been misrepresented and reviled; but such is human -nature, or such is the small progress that we have made in the knowledge -of it, that in most instances we excuse, rather than exculpate, and -display doubts instead of bringing forward certainties. Machiavelli has -been the object of much argument, founded on the motives that impelled -him to write his celebrated treatise of the "Prince," which he declares -to be a manual for sovereigns, and Rousseau has named the manual of -republicans. The question of whether he sat down in cold blood, and as -approving them, or whether he wrote in irony, the detestable maxims he -boldly and explicitly urges, has been disputed by many. Voltaire has -joined in the cry against him, begun by our countryman cardinal Pole. It -is a curious question, to be determined only by the author himself. We -must seek in the actions of his life, and in his letters, for a solution -of the mystery. Ample materials are afforded, and if we are unable to -throw a clear light on the subject, at least we shall adduce all the -evidence, and, after summing it up impartially, leave the jury of -readers to decide. - -The family of Machiavelli carried back its origin to the ancient -marquesses of Tuscany, and especially to a marquis Ugo, who flourished -about the year 850, who was the root whence sprung various nobles, who -possessed power over territories, which the growing state of Florence -speedily encroached upon. The Machiavelli were lords of Montespertoli; -but preferring the rank of citizens of a prosperous city, to the -unprofitable preservation of an illustrious ancestry, they submitted to -the laws of Florence, for the sake of enjoying the honours which the -republic had to bestow. The Machiavelli belonged to that portion of the -Guelph party which abandoned their native town in 1260, after the defeat -of Monteaperti. Being afterwards re-established in their country, they -enjoyed thirteen times the rank of gonfaloniere of justice, an office -corresponding to the better known one of doge, except that it was an -annual magistrature; and fifty-three different members of the family -were elected priors, another of the highest offices of government. - -[Sidenote: 1469.] - -Niccolò Machiavelli was born in Florence on the 3d of May, 1469; his -father was jurisconsult and treasurer of the march, and by aid of these -offices, maintained in some degree the lustre of his family, which was -obscured by the poverty into which it had fallen. His mother Bartolomea, -daughter of Stefano Nelli, was equally well descended. Her family -derived itself from the ancient counts of Borgonuovo of Fucecchio, who -flourished in the tenth century, and her ancestors had been elected to -the highest offices in the Florentine state. She had been previously -married to Niccolò Benizzi, and was distinguished for her cultivated -understanding and talent for poetry. - -Nothing is known of the childhood and education of Machiavelli. Paul -Jovius wishes to prove that he scarcely understood Latin, but this -opinion finds no credit: Paul Jovius is a writer, whose celebrity is -founded on his unblushing falsehoods and baseless calumnies[111]: he was -sold to the Medici, and attacked without scruple, and with a total -disregard for truth, those persons who were inimical to them. -[Sidenote: 1494. -Ætat. -25.] -At the age of five and twenty, Machiavelli was placed as secretary under -Marcello di Virgilio de' Adriani, or, as he is commonly called, -Marcellus Virgil, whose pupil he had formerly been. Marcellus Virgil had -been at one time professor of Latin and Greek, and was now one of the -chief officers of the Florentine court of chancery. Paul Jovius gives -Machiavelli the name of his clerk and copyist, and adds, that, from this -master, he obtained those flowers of ancient learning which are -interspersed in his works. Nothing is at once more base and futile than -these attempts to degrade celebrated men, by impeaching their station in -society, or adventitious acquirements. It only serves to display the -detractor's malice, and to render more conspicuous the merit which could -triumph over every disadvantage. - -There is no trace of Machiavelli's taking any part in the political -disturbances of Florence at this time. The city was then agitated by the -pretensions and turbulence of the prophet Salvanorola. There is a letter -extant of his, which gives some account of the preaching and -denunciations of the ambitious friar, which shows that, if he did not -belong to the party opposed to him, he was, at least, not duped by his -impostures[112]:--"In my opinion," he says, "he temporises and gives to -his falsehoods the colour of the occasion." -[Sidenote: Mar. -8. -1497. -Ætat. -28.] -The disposition of Machiavelli was observing and industrious; his -ambition was under the rule of judgment, and his hopes fixed on the -favour secure from the heads of government. For five of the best years -of his life he was content to exercise the unostentatious functions of -secretary to an officer of chancery, nor were any of his writings -composed at this period: they were the fruits of thought and experience, -and there is nothing to tell us, that, as a young man, he was warmed by -that self-confidence and restless aspiration, which he displayed in -maturer life. It may be supposed, however, that his employer, Marcellus -Virgil, distinguished his talents and recommended them to observation, -as they were both promoted at the same time, Marcellus being elected -high chancellor, and Machiavelli preferred over four other candidates, -to the post of chancellor of the second court. - -A month afterwards he was named secretary to 1498. the council of ten -(the chief council of the state), which situation he retained till the -revolution, which, fourteen years afterwards, overthrew the government -he served. -[Sidenote: 1498. -Ætat. -29.] -During this period. Machiavelli pursued an active career: he was -continually employed on missions to various sovereigns and states. His -letters to his government on these occasions are published, and he wrote -besides brief surveys of the countries to which he was sent. His active -and enquiring mind was continually on the alert, and he stored up with -care the observations and opinions that resulted from the personages and -scenes with which he was brought into contact. - -[Sidenote: 1492.] - -Italy was at this time in a state, of convulsion, torn by foreign armies -and domestic quarrels: the peace of the peninsula had died with Lorenzo -de' Medici. That sagacious statesman saw the safety of his country in -the preservation of the balance of power among its several rulers. It -was his endeavour to check the encroachments of the king of Naples and -the pope, who ruled southern Italy, by the influence of the duke of -Milan, and of the Venetian republic; while these again were prevented -from attempting war with Florence, or trespassing on the smaller states -of Romagna, by the jealousy of the sovereigns of the south. For many -years no foreign army had crossed the Alps, and the battles of the -condottieri became more and more innoxious. - -This fine system of policy fell to the ground on the death of Lorenzo. -His son Piero, who succeeded him, was a rash, impolitic, and feeble -statesman, defying dangers till they were close at hand, and then -yielding weakly to them. He had not feared to make an enemy of Ludovico -Sforza, who reigned over Milan in the name of his nephew Giovan -Galeazzo, the rightful duke. Ludovico wished to play the old part of his -wicked uncle, and to supplant the youthful prince; but he feared to be -prevented by the king of Naples. To occupy and weaken him, he invited -Charles VIII. of France into Italy, instigating him to assert his right -to the Neapolitan crown, which he claimed through Rene, who inherited -it, together with the counties of Anjou and Provence. This was the -origin of all the evils which overwhelmed Italy, crushed its spirit of -liberty, destroyed its republics, and after making it a field of battle -for many years, caused it in the end to become a mere appanage to the -crowns of Germany, Spain, or France, according as these kingdoms enjoyed -alternately the supreme power in Europe. - -[Sidenote: 1493.] - -The entrance of the French into Italy caused great commotion in the city -of Florence. It was considered by Lorenzo to be the policy of the -Florentines to keep allies of the king of France: but Piero acted a -thoughtless and unstable part; he at first opposed the French, and then -threw himself into their hands. The Florentines were enraged at the -sacrifices he made to pacify an enemy which he had brought upon himself, -and the result was his expulsion from the city, and the overthrow and -exile of the Medicean family. - -Charles VIII. overran Italy, and possessed himself of the kingdom of -Naples without drawing a sword, except to massacre the defenceless -people. The Italians were accustomed to a mild system of warfare; they -carried on their military enterprises by condottieri, or captains of -independent bands of soldiers, who hired themselves to the best bidder. -These condottieri consisted of foreign adventurers, who came into Italy -on the speculation of turning their military talents to profit, or of -the minor native princes, or lords of single towns, who augmented their -consequence and revenue by raising troops, commanded by themselves, but -paid by others. These mercenaries were inspired by no spirit of -patriotism or party; they fought for pay and booty; they changed sides -at the beck of their captain, who was influenced by the highest offer. -They fought to-day side by side with men whom the next they might attack -as enemies: they fought, therefore, in a placid spirit of friendly -enmity; often not a single soldier fell upon the field of battle. Add to -this, they were very indifferently provided with fire-arms. The ferocity -of the French, their artillery, discipline, and massacres, filled the -unwarlike population with alarm and horror. They fled, or submitted -without a blow. But Charles lost his conquest almost as soon as he -gained it; he returned to France, and the crown of Naples fell from his -head at the same moment. - -His death followed soon after; and his successor, Louis XII., on turning -his eyes to Italy, rather fixed them on the duchy of Milan, to which he -had pretensions by right of inheritance. -[Sidenote: 1498.] -His conquest of this dukedom was speedy and complete, and he then -proceeded to possess himself of Naples. The king then reigning, Frederic -of the house of Aragon, called in the Spaniards to his aid, and he was -crushed in the collision of the two warlike nations. He was banished -Naples and confined in France, while Louis and Ferdinand at first -amicably divided, and then hostilely fought for, the possession of his -kingdom. - -[Sidenote: 1501. -Ætat. -32.] - -Meanwhile the first entrance of Charles VIII. into Italy had left the -seeds of discord and disaster in Tuscany. Pisa was at that time under -the rule of Florence, but repining at its servitude. When Charles -entered Pisa, its citizens implored him to restore to them their -independence: he promised to comply; and though afterwards he made -treaties to a contrary effect with Florence, the Pisans profited by his -secret inclination in their favour, and the sympathy afforded them by -the officers and men that composed his army, to shut their gates against -their Florentine governors, and to assert their liberty. From this time -it became the ardent desire of Florence to subdue the rebel city; they -exhausted all their resources in prosecution of this favourite object. -Each year they attacked the walls, and destroyed the crops, of the -unfortunate but resolute Pisans; and, in each treaty they made with -France, the chief article was a promise of aid in this desired conquest. -[Sidenote: 1500. -Ætat. -31.] -At one time they formed the siege of Pisa, and solicited Louis XII. to -supply them with troops and artillery. That politic sovereign, who -wished to strengthen himself in Italy, sent them double the force they -required. These auxiliaries, composed of Swiss and Gascons, pillaged -both friends and foes, quarrelled with the Florentine commissaries, came -to a secret understanding with Pisa, and, finally, on a pretence of a -delay of pay, raised the siege. The king of France accused Florence of -being the cause of this affront sustained by his arms; and, to appease -him, and to obtain, if possible, further assistance, the republic -deputed Francesco della Gaza, and Machiavelli, as envoys to the French -court. - -A year before Machiavelli had been employed on a mission to Caterina -Sforza, countess of Forli, with regard to the terms of engagement -offered to her son, for serving Florence as condottiere; but the -legation to France was of greater importance. The commissions, or -instructions of the government to Machiavelli, and his letters to the -state during this and all his other missions, are published. They are -long and minute, but far less tedious than such correspondences usually -are; and the reading them is indispensable to the forming a just notion -of his character, and a view of the actions of his life. There is -something curiously interesting in the style of his instructions on the -present occasion; they display a civic simplicity of manners and -language, and a sagacity in viewing the personages and events in -question, combined with true Italian astute policy. Guicciardini -observes, that when the French first entered Italy, they were astonished -and disgusted by the want of faith and falsehood which prevailed in -their negotiations with the native princes and states. In this -commission the Florentine government gave instructions to their envoys -savouring of the prevalent vice of their country. The commander of the -French forces before Pisa, Beaumont, had been appointed at their own -request: he failed without any fault of his own, through the -insubordination of the troops under him. The state of Florence -instructed its envoys:--"According to circumstances you may accuse him -violently, and cast on him the imputation of cowardice and corruption; -or free him from all blame, and, speaking honourably of him, throw all -the fault upon others. And take care how you criminate him, as we do not -wish to lose his favour, without gaining any thing elsewhere by such a -proceeding." - -Machiavelli and his fellow envoy remained in France three months, -following the king and his court to Montargis, Melun, Plessis, and -Tours. They were faithful and industrious in fulfilling their duties, -especially Machiavelli; Francesco della Caza being taken ill, and -spending the greater part of his time at Paris. They failed in their -object: the king wishing Florence to engage troops from him on the same -terms, of paying all the expenses, and the Florentines wishing to induce -him to form the siege at his own risk, reimbursing him only in case of -success. Machiavelli meanwhile was very desirous to return home; -"because," he writes, "my father died only a month before my departure, -and since then I have lost a sister, and all my affairs are in disorder, -so that I am injured in many ways." Towards the end of October, Florence -sent an ambassador with greater powers to the French court, and the -envoys returned to Italy. - -His next legation was to Cæsar Borgia. It is necessary to enlarge upon -this mission. The great doubt that clouds Machiavelli's character -regards the spirit in which he wrote the "Prince,"--whether he sincerely -recommended the detestable principles of government which he appears to -advocate, or used the weapons of irony and sarcasm to denounce a system -of tyranny which then oppressed his native country. The example he -brings forward most frequently in his treatise, is that of Cæsar -Borgia: his mode of governing his states, and the artifice and -resolution with which he destroyed his enemies, are adduced as worthy of -applause and imitation. We must, therefore, not only enquire what the -deeds of this man were, but endeavour to discover the real sentiments of -Machiavelli, the opinion that he formed upon his conduct, and the -conclusions which he drew from his success. We may also mention that the -secretary has been accused of being Borgia's confidant in his plots. Mr. -Roscoe has lightly adopted this idea; but the course of the present -narration will easily disprove it. - -Soon after the death of Lorenzo de' Medici, died Innocent VIII.; and -Roderigo Borgia, a native of Valentia in Spain, and one of the most -ancient of the cardinals, was chosen pope in his room. His election was -carried by force of bribery and intrigue, to the horror and amazement of -the whole Christian world; since not only the methods by which he rose -were known, but also the character and actions of the man thus -exalted.[113] The new pontiff assumed the name of Alexander VI. "He was -a man," to use the words of Guicciardini, "of singular prudence and -sagacity; endued with great penetration, and marvellous powers of -persuasion, and always acting with extreme forethought and policy. But -these good qualities were darkly clouded by the worst vices. His -depraved life, his total want of shame, his contempt for good faith, -religion, and truth, his matchless deceit, insatiable avarice, barbarous -cruelty, and unbounded desire to exalt his numerous offspring, who were -not less dissolute and unprincipled than himself, stained his character, -and marked his reign with inexpressible infamy." - -Cæsar Borgia, his younger son, had been educated for the church; and, -despite his illegitimate birth, was raised to the rank of cardinal. But -Caesar disliked the sacerdotal profession, and was jealous of his elder -brother, the duke of Candia, whom his father was desirous of raising to -the highest temporal rank, both because of his success in arms, and also -on account of the preference shown him by their sister Lucretia. Incited -by these criminal passions, he one night caused the duke to be waylaid, -murdered, and thrown into the Tiber. The pope was at first overwhelmed -with grief on his son's death, and made great show of repentance and -reformation; but soon after he cast aside all thoughts of this kind, and -returned with renewed eagerness to his former pursuits and projects. -Cæsar gained the point at which he aimed. He was permitted to abdicate -the cardinal's hat; and, in reward for the dispensation which the pope -granted Louis XII. to divorce his first wife, and to marry Anne of -Britany, he obtained the duchy of Valence in France, and henceforth was -commonly called by the name of the duca Valentino, or Valentian duke. - -It was the chief ambition of this new temporal noble to form a -principality in Italy. The territories of the marquisate of Savoy, of -the duchy of Milan, and of the Venetian republic, embraced the greater -portion of the peninsula north of the Apennines. To the south, the -kingdom of Naples, Rome, and the republic of Florence, were the -principal states; but other territories remained, a sovereignty over -which was claimed by the popes, but which obeyed a variety of petty -lords, whose families had for centuries enjoyed the rule. The various -cities of Romagna to the east, Bologna to the north, Piombino to the -west, and Perugia to the south, formed the chief: of these Cæsar Borgia -resolved to possess himself, extending a prophetic eye to the future -conquest of Tuscany. Already he had acquired dominion over Romagna: he -dispossessed the duke of Urbino and the prince of Piombino of their -states, and now he turned his eyes towards Bologna. Giovanni Bentivoglio -had long been lord of this wealthy city; good fortune, rather than -talents or a spirit of enterprise, had raised him, and he spared no -blood in confirming his power. Cæsar Borgia was supported in his -encroachments by an alliance with Louis XII. In vain was it represented -to this monarch[114], "that it ill became the splendour of the French -crown, and the title of most Christian king, to show favour to an -infamous tyrant, the destroyer of many states; a man who thirsted for -human blood, and was an example to the whole world of perfidy and -inhumanity; who, like a public robber, had broken faith with and -murdered so many princes and nobles; one stained with the blood of his -nearest kindred, and whose crimes of poisoning and stabbing were -unequalled in a Christian country." Louis favoured him, not so much from -his own inclination, as at the instigation of the cardinal d'Amboise, -who was desirous of currying favour with the pope; and who, by -protecting his son, obtained the high office of legate to France. - -At the moment of the commencement of his attack on Bologna, while -running a full career of success, Cæsar Borgia received a check from -the revolt of his chief condottieri. Like all the other princes of -Italy, the army of the duke of Valence consisted of various bands, -independent of each other, and obeying several distinct captains. The -chief among these were Vitellozzo Vitelli, lord of Città Castello, -Oliverotto da Fermo, in the March, and Paolo Orsino, who was master of a -large portion of the patrimony of St. Peter, and the duke of Gravina, -also of the Orsini family. These men assembled at Magione, near Perugia; -they were joined, in their consultations by cardinal Orsini, chief of -the family, and then at enmity with the pope; Giovanpaolo Baglioni, lord -of Perugia, Hermes Bentivoglio, who represented his father, lord of -Bologna, and Antonio da Venafro, minister of Pandolfo Petrucci, lord of -Siena. These last-named nobles feared the encroachments of Borgia, and -gladly availed themselves of an opportunity to seduce away his captains, -and to check his enterprises. It is to be remembered that the -individuals thus conspiring were men stained with the crimes of -treachery and assassination, then so rife in Italy--men whose aim was -power, and who thought every method that led to it justifiable. For -Cæsar ran no new career of crime: he travelled in the same path with -many of his contemporaries, while he excelled them all in resolution, -intrepidity, and remorseless cruelty: his abilities were greater, his -conscience more seared. Inhuman, stern, and treacherous, he was yet -sagacious, eloquent, courteous, and plausible. It was a common saying at -Rome, that the pope never did what he said, and that his son never said -what he did.[115] Prudence and success meanwhile gained for him the -respect even of those by whom he was abhorred. - -The conspirators at Magione were at once aware of the character of the -man with whom they had to deal, and the small faith they could repose in -each other; but they saw their destruction in the fulfilment of Borgia's -ambitious schemes; and this served as a common bond between them. They -took care to gather together their troops, and, occupying the country -between Romagna and Rome, they hoped to prevent Caesar from receiving -aid from his father. The duke of Urbino, whose duchy Borgia had lately -seized, joined the league, and suddenly appearing at the head of some -forces, repossessed himself of his territories, in which he was greatly -beloved. Borgia was at Imola with but few troops when he heard of the -loss of Urbino, and the revolt of his captains. These men invited the -Florentines to join them. The republic feared Borgia, but they hated yet -more the conspirators, as there existed between them various and urgent -motives of enmity: they feared also to displease the king of France by -taking part against his ally. They discountenanced, therefore, the -advances of the captains, and sent Machiavelli to the duke at Imola, to -inform him of this circumstance, and to assure him in general terms of -their continued amity; and, moreover, to watch the progress of the -conspiracy, and to learn what hope Borgia entertained of repelling the -menaced injury. - -[Sidenote: 1502. -Ætat. -33.] - -Machiavelli approached without any feeling of abhorrence, a man honoured -and protected by the king of France. He had no sympathy with the -conspirators, but rather hated them, as the enemies of his country, and -as traitors. Borgia commanded more respect. He was a man of greater -powers of mind; a high and commanding spirit, running a prosperous -career, who had hitherto overcome every obstacle to his -advancement.[116] It was a curious study to observe the methods he would -use to crush the nest of traitors in league against him. - -Machiavelli arrived at Imola on the 7th of October, and was instantly -admitted to an audience with the duke. Borgia received him with every -show of courtesy and kindness. He was in high spirits, declaring that -the stars that year were inimical to rebels, and that the revolt was a -piece of good fortune, since it enabled him to distinguish his friends -from his foes, at a critical moment. He declared that his clemency had -been the cause of this disaster, and frankly entered into details -concerning the progress made by the confederates. - -From day to day Machiavelli continued to see and converse with Borgia, -who exerted the grace of manner for which he was renowned, and a show of -cordiality, to win the suffrage of the yet inexperienced secretary. "I -cannot express to you," Machiavelli writes to his government, "the -earnest demonstrations he makes of affection towards the republic, and -how eagerly he justifies himself with regard to his threatened attack -last year, throwing the blame upon Vitellozzo Vitelli." Borgia's chief -endeavour at this moment was to influence the secretary to persuade his -government to give some public testimonial of its attachment to him. He -spoke with the utmost confidence of his ultimate success; assuring -Machiavelli, that among the many fortunate events that had befallen him, -this conspiracy was most lucky of all, as it had caused his more -powerful friends to declare for him. - -Meanwhile, though he thus "vaunted aloud," he was acting with consummate -prudence and caution. His object was to gain time. He wished to remain -inactive till he had gathered together a sufficient number of troops to -insure success. He was at one time thwarted in this purpose by two -Spanish captains in his pay, whom he had summoned to Imola; who, -fancying that a good opportunity presented itself of attacking the -enemy, had themselves been vanquished and put to flight. Borgia kept -this disaster as secret as possible; he expected troops from France and -Switzerland, and gathered together all the _broken-off lances_ in the -country. A lance was a term used to signify a mounted cavalier with five -or six followers; and the condottiere formed a greater or less number of -lances into a troop. But often single cavaliers with their followers -broke off from the band to which they belonged, and were thence called -_Lande Spezzate._ - -Besides these more evident methods of defending himself, Borgia hoped -that dissention might be introduced among the confederates; that he -should be able to entice away a portion, and then, by policy and -artifice, bring them to terms. His hopes were not deceived. About the -middle of October, Paolo Orsino sent to say, that if the duke would send -a hostage in pledge for his safety, he would repair to Imola. Caesar -eagerly seized on this opening for negotiation; cardinal Borgia was put -into the hands of the confederates, and Paolo Orsino arrived at Imola on -the 25th of October. Machiavelli watched with intense interest the -progress of this visit, and the subsequent proceedings. "No military -movement is made on either side," he writes to the signoria of Florence, -"and these treaties for reconciliation benefit the duke, who readily -entertains them; but I cannot judge with what intentions." He goes on to -state the difficulties that must stand in the way of the renewing of -amity; "so that," he continues, "I do not find any one who can guess how -the reconciliation can be effected. Some people think that the duke will -entice away a part of the confederates; and when they no longer hold -together, he will cease to fear them. I incline to this opinion, having -heard him let fall words that have this tendency to his ministers. Yet -it is difficult to believe that so recent a confederacy can be broken -up." - -Borgia took great pains to preserve Machiavelli's prepossession in -favour of his good fortune and success. He pressed him to bring his -government to decisive measures in his favour. He caused his ministers -to urge those topics which would come more gracefully through a third -person. These men besieged the secretary's ear with confidential advice. -They assured him that Florence was losing an admirable opportunity for -securing the duke's friendship; they represented what a fortunate, -high-spirited man he was, accustomed to success, and despising his -present dangers. Machiavelli sent minute details of these conversations -to his government, addings "Your lordships hear the words which the duke -uses, and, knowing who it is that speaks, you will draw conclusions with -your accustomed prudence." On another occasion he recounts a long -conversation he held with Borgia, who showed him letters received from -France, which assured him of the friendship of its powerful monarch. "I -have often told you," Cæsar continued, "and again I say, that I shall -not be without assistance. The French cavalry and the Swiss infantry -will soon arrive, and the pope will supply me with money. I do not wish -to boast, nor to say more than that it is probable that my enemies will -repent their perfidy. As to your masters, I cannot be more satisfied -with them than I am; so that you may offer them on my part all that it -is in my power to do. When you first came, I spoke in general terms, -because my affairs were in so bad a condition that I did not know on -what ground I stood, and I did not wish your government to think that -danger made me a large promiser. But now that I fear less, I promise -more; and when my fears are quite at an end, deeds shall be added to my -words, when there is call for them." - -"Your lordships," continues Machiavelli, hear the duke's words, of which -I do not put down one half; and, knowing the manner of man, can judge -accordingly. Since I have been here, nothing but good has happened to -him; which has been caused by the certainty that every one feels that -the king of France will help him with troops, and the pope with money." - -Machiavelli was evidently filled with high admiration of Borgia's -talents, and won by his persuasive manners. There is abundant proof, -however, that he did not possess his confidence. He was perpetually -soliciting to be recalled:--"For the time is past," he writes, "for -temporising, and a man of more authority than I is needed to conclude -this treaty. My own affairs are also in the greatest disorder, nor can I -remain here without money." The Florentine government thought otherwise; -they determined to await the development of events before they -concluded any treaty. - -These were hastening onwards to a catastrophe. Borgia by this time had -collected a considerable force together of French, Swiss, and Italians; -but he was willing to overcome his adversaries by other arts than those -of war. The confederates, from weakness or fear, or by force of Borgia's -persuasive eloquence, were won to agree to a treaty of reconciliation. -After some parley, it was signed early in the month of November: the -terms consisted principally of renewed professions of perpetual peace, -concord, and union; with a remission and forgetfulness of injuries; the -duke promising a sincere renewal of friendship, and the confederates -pledging themselves to defend the duke. He was to continue to them their -engagements as condottieri, and they were to assist him to recover the -duchy of Urbino. It was agreed that one only of the confederates at a -time should be called on to remain in the duke's camp, and in his power; -but they promised to deliver to him their children and near relatives as -hostages, whenever they should be demanded. Such is a sketch of a treaty -which dissolved a confederacy so formidable to Borgia, and placed him, -without drawing a sword, in a position as favourable as when his enemies -first assembled at Magione. - -Machiavelli could not be deceived by this apparent reconciliation; and -he was eager to discover Borgia's secret views. Far from being consulted -concerning his plans, he now found it very difficult to obtain an -audience:--"For," he writes, "they live here only for their own good, -and for that which appears to them to contribute to it. Paolo Orsini -arrived yesterday, bringing the articles ratified and subscribed by -Vitellozzo and all the other confederates; and he endeavours, as well as -he can, to persuade the duke, that they all mean to be faithful, and to -undertake any enterprise for him. The duke appears satisfied. Vitellozzo -also writes grateful and submissive letters, excusing himself and making -offers; and saying, that if he had an opportunity to speak to him, he -could fully justify himself, and show that what he had done was without -any intention of injuring him. The duke listens to all; and what he -means to do no one knows, for it is very difficult to penetrate him. -Judging by his words and those of his chief ministers, it is impossible -not to expect evil for others, for the injury done him has been great; -and his conversation, and that of those around him, is full of -indignation against Vitellozzo.[117] One spoke to me yesterday, who is -the man nearest the duke, saying, 'This traitor has stabbed us, and now -thinks to heal the wound with words, but children might laugh at the -articles of this treaty.'" - -The treaty being ratified, it was debated what action the duke should -put the captains upon. After a good deal of discussion, it was agreed -that they should go against Sinigaglia, a town belonging to the duke of -Urbino. While this enterprise was under consideration, Borgia left -Imola. Machiavelli writes, on the 10th of December, "The duke left this -place this morning, and is gone to Forli with his whole army. To-morrow -evening he will be at Cesena; but it is not known what he will do after -that; nor is there any one here who fancies that he can guess. I shall -set out to-morrow, and follow the court--unwillingly, because I am not -well; and, in addition to my indisposition, I have received from your -lordships fifty ducats, and I have spent seventy-two, having only seven -left in my purse. But I must obey necessity." - -On the 14th of December, Machiavelli writes, from Cesena, "As I before -wrote, every one is in suspense with regard to the duke's intentions, -who is here with all his forces. After many conjectures, they conclude -that he means to get possession of the persons of those who have so -deeply injured, and nearly deprived him of his dominions: and although -the treaty he has made contradicts this notion, yet his past actions -render it probable; and I am of this opinion from what I have heard and -reported in my letters. We shall see what will happen; and I will do my -duty in acquainting you with all that passes while I remain here: which -cannot be long; for, in the first place, I have only four ducats left in -my purse; and in the second, my further stay is of no utility. To speak -to your lordships with the truth which I have always practised, it would -be better if you sent a person of more reputation to treat of your -affairs: I am not fit, as they need a more eloquent man--one more known, -and who knows the world better than I." It would seem as if Machiavelli -tremblingly foresaw the tragedy at hand, and wished to withdraw; in -fear, perhaps, of being used as an instrument by Borgia, or suspected of -any participation in his crimes. - -On the 23d of December, he reports that the duke had suddenly dismissed -all his French troops. He had requested an audience, to discover the -cause of this movement; but received only an evasive answer,--that the -duke would send for him when he wanted him. It soon became evident that -the ease with which the confederates fell into Borgia's snares, rendered -useless the armed force he had gathered together for their destruction; -and he dismissed an army, the maintaining of which might excite -suspicion. - -Again Machiavelli writes, from Cesena, on the 26th of December, "I have -not been able to obtain an audience of the duke, his excellency being -engaged in reviewing his infantry, and in his pleasures, preparatory to -Christmas. As I have before repeated, this prince is most secret; nor do -I believe that any one except himself is aware of what he is going to -do. His principal secretaries have assured me that he never communicates -any thing till the moment of execution; and he executes on the instant: -so I hope you will not accuse me of negligence, in not being able to -tell any thing; as I know nothing myself." - -The catastrophe was now at hand. The captains sent Borgia word that they -had taken Sinigaglia, but that the fortress still held out; nor would -the castellan deliver the keys to any but the duke in person; and they -advised him, therefore, to come to receive them. Thus invited by the -captains themselves, Borgia thought it an excellent opportunity to -approach them without exciting suspicion. With great art he persuaded -Vitelli and Paolo Orsino to wait for him at Sinigaglia, saying that -their suspicion and timidity would render their reconciliation unstable -and short-lived. Vitellozzo felt how unsafe it was, first to injure a -prince, and then to put trust in him: but he was over-persuaded to -remain by Orsino, whom the duke had corrupted by promises and gifts. -Borgia left Fano on the 30th of December, and on the following day -repaired to Sinigaglia; and on the evening of the last day of that -month. Machiavelli wrote a short note to his government from that town, -containing these words only:--"I wrote, the day before yesterday, from -Pesaro, all I had heard concerning Sinigaglia.[118] I removed yesterday -to Fano. Early this morning, the duke departed with all his troops, and -came here to Sinigaglia, where were assembled all the Orsini and -Vitellozzo, who had taken the town for him. He invited them to come -around him; and, the moment he entered the town, he turned to his guard, -and caused them to be taken prisoners. Thus he has secured them all, and -the town is being pillaged. It is now twenty-three o'clock.[119] I am in -the greatest anxiety, not knowing how to forward this letter, as there -is no one to take it. I will write at length in another. In my opinion, -they will not be alive to-morrow. All their people are also taken; and -the official notice distributed about, says that the traitors are -arrested." - -In another place. Machiavelli gives the details of the mode in which -these men were deluded into trusting themselves in the hands of one so -notorious for perfidy and sanguinary revenge.[120] "On the 30th of -December," he says, "on setting out from Fano, the duke communicated his -design to eight of his most faithful followers. He committed to their -care, that, when Vitellozzo, Paolo Orsino, the duke of Gravina, and -Oliverotto da Fermo should advance to meet him, two of his friends -should take one of them between them; and that they should thus continue -to guard them till they reached the house where the duke was to lodge. -He then stationed his troops so as to be near enough to support him, -without exciting suspicion. The confederates, meanwhile, to afford room -for the soldiery which Borgia brought with him, had caused their own to -retire to various castles six miles distant, Oliverotto alone retaining -his hand of 1000 foot and 150 horse. Every thing being thus arranged, -Borgia proceeded to Sinigaglia. Vitellozzo, Paolo Orsino, and the duke -of Gravina came out to meet him, mounted on mules, and accompanied by a -few followers on horseback. Vitellozzo was unarmed; and his desponding -countenance seemed prophetic of his approaching death. It was said that -he took, as it were, a last leave of his friends when he left the town; -recommending the fortunes of his family to the chief among them, and -bidding his nephews bear in mind the virtues of their race. These three -were received cordially by the duke, and immediately taken in charge, as -had been arranged. Perceiving that Oliverotto da Fermo was not among -them--he having remained with his troop to receive Borgia in the -market-place--he signed to one of his followers to devise some means to -prevent his escape. This man went instantly to Oliverotto, and advised -him to order his men to repair to quarters immediately, otherwise their -lodgings would be occupied by the band accompanying the duke. Oliverotto -listened to the sinister counsel, and, unaccompanied, joined Borgia and -the rest on their entrance into the town. As soon as they arrived at the -duke's palace, the signal was given, and they were made prisoners." -Machiavelli's anticipations were fulfilled nearly to the letter. -Vitellozzo and Oliverotto were strangled in prison the same night. Paolo -Orsino and the duke of Gravina were kept alive till Borgia heard that -the pope had seized on the persons of the other chiefs of the Orsini -family; when, on the 18th of the January following, they were also -strangled in prison. - -On the very day of the execution of this treacherous and cruel act of -revenge. Machiavelli had an audience with its perpetrator. He writes, -"The duke sent for me at the second hour of night[121], and with a most -cheerful countenance congratulated himself and me on his success, saying -that he had alluded to it to me the day before, but not fully explained -himself: which is true. He added many prudent and very affectionate -expressions concerning our city; alleging all those reasons which made -him desire your friendship, if you entertain the same feelings towards -him; all of which filled me with exceeding surprise. He concluded by -bidding me write three things to you. First, that I should congratulate -you on his having put to death the enemies alike of the king of France, -you, and himself, and destroyed every seed of dissention which had -threatened to ruin Italy; for which you ought to be obliged to him. -Secondly, he begged me to entreat you to make manifest to the world that -you were his friends, and to send forward some troops to assist his -attack on Castello or Perugia." - -On the 8th of January, Machiavelli uses expressions in his letter most -characteristic of Italian policy and morals at that period. "It excites -surprise here," he writes, "that you should not have written nor sent to -congratulate the duke on the deed which he has lately executed, which -redounds to your advantage, and on account of which our city ought to -feel grateful; they say that it would have cost the republic 200,000 -ducats to get rid of Vitellozzo and the Orsini, and even then it would -not have been so completely done as by the duke. It is doubtful what his -success will be at Perugia: as, on one side, we find a prince gifted -with unparalleled good fortune, and a sanguine spirit, more than human, -to accomplish all his desires; and, on the other hand, a man of extreme -prudence, governing a state with great reputation." The secretary adds, -with praiseworthy diffidence, and considerable self-knowledge, "If I -form a false judgment, it arises not only from my inexperience, but also -from my views being confined to what is going on here, on which I am led -to form the opinions I have expressed above." - -The republic now thought it time to replace Machiavelli by an ambassador -of more authority; and the secretary returned to Florence at the end of -the month of January. - -[Sidenote: 1503.] - -It is evident from this detail, taken from Machiavelli's own letters, -that he was not intrusted with the secret of a prince, who, he says, -never revealed his purposes to any one before the moment of execution. -Yet it is also plain that, at last, he began to suspect the tragedy in -preparation; and that neither the anticipation nor the fulfilment -inspired him with abhorrence for the murderer; while his contempt of the -confederates, and admiration of the talents and success of their -destroyer, is every where apparent: nor was this a short-lived feeling. -Without mentioning the "Prince," in which this act of Borgia is alluded -to with praise, he is mentioned with approbation in several of his -private letters. He wrote "A Description of the Method used by the -Valentian Duke in putting to death Vitellozzo Vitelli, &c." This is -purely narrative, and contains no word of comment or censure. There is -besides a poem of his, entitled "The Decenal," in which he proposes to -relate the sufferings of Italy during ten years: in this he mentions the -crime of Borgia. "After the duke of Valence," he says, "had exculpated -himself to the king of France, he returned to Romagna, with the -intention of going against Bologna. It appears that Vitellozzo Vitelli -and Paolo Orsino resolved not to assist him; and these serpents, full of -venom, began to conspire together, and to tear him with their talons and -teeth. Borgia, ill able to defend himself, was obliged to take refuge -behind the shield of France; and to take his enemies by a snare, the -basilisk whistled softly, to allure them to his den. In a short time, -the traitor of Fermo, and Vitellozzo, and that Orsino who had been so -much his friend, fell readily into his toils; in which the Orsino -(_bear_) lost more than a paw; and Vitelli was shorn of the other horn -(_alluding to his brother's death at Florence as one horn_). Perugia and -Siena heard the boast of the hydra, and each tyrant fled before his -fury: nor could the cardinal Orsino escape the ruin of his unhappy -house, but died the victim of a thousand arts." - -It must be mentioned that, notwithstanding individual acts of ferocity -of which Cæsar Borgia was guilty, he was an equitable -sovereign--favouring the common people, and restraining the nobles in -their sanguinary quarrels and extortionate oppression. His subjects -were, therefore, much attached to him. There is an anecdote relating to -his system of government, narrated in the "Prince," which may be quoted -as exceedingly characteristic. It is one of the examples brought forward -by Machiavelli in his treatise, to show how a prince can prudently -consolidate his power in a newly acquired state. "When the duke had -taken Romagna, he found it governed by feeble lords, who had rather -robbed than corrupted their subjects, and sown discord rather than -preserved peace--so that this province was the prey of extortion, -lawlessness, and all other kind of oppression. He judged it necessary to -govern it strictly, and to reduce it to obedience and tranquillity. For -this purpose he set over it Ramiro d'Orco, a cruel and resolute man, to -whom he confided absolute power. He soon established order in the -province. The duke then judged that so despotic an authority might -become odious; and he set up a civil court in the middle of the -province, with an excellent president, at which each city had its -advocate. And because he knew that the former rigor had generated -hatred, to conciliate and win this people, he wished to prove that the -cruelties that had been practised did not emanate from him, but from the -severity of his minister; and seizing Ramiro, he caused him one morning -to be placed on a scaffold in the market-place of Cesena, divided in -two, with a wooden block and bloody knife at his side. The horror of -which spectacle caused the people to remain for some time satisfied and -stupid." - -This act took place under the very eyes of Machiavelli, when he was at -Cesena with Borgia. He thus mentions it in his public -correspondence:--"Messer Ramiro was found this morning divided in two in -the market-place, where he yet is, and all the people can behold him. -The cause of his death is not well known, except that it seemed good to -the prince, who shows that he knows how to make and unmake men at will, -according to their merits." - -To us, who cannot sympathise with the high spirit and good fortune of -Borgia, it is consolatory to know that his triumph was short-lived, and -his ruin complete. It fell to Machiavelli to witness the last scene of -his expiring power, being sent on a legation to Rome at the time of his -downfall. - -[Sidenote: 1503.] - -The duke of Valence was still enjoying the complete success of his -enterprises: courage and duplicity, united, rendered him victorious over -all his enemies. He was at Rome, carrying on a negotiation with the king -of France, which was to extend and secure his power, when suddenly, one -afternoon, the pope was brought back dead from a vineyard, whither he -had gone to recreate himself after the heats of the day; and Cæsar was -also brought back soon after, to all appearance dying. -[Sidenote: Aug. -28.] -The story went that they were both poisoned, having drunk by mistake -some wine prepared by themselves for the destruction of one of their -guests.[122] The pope's body was exposed in St. Peter's on the following -day, according to custom; it was swollen, discoloured, and frightfully -disfigured. Cæsar's youth, and the speedy use he had made of an -antidote, saved his life; but he remained for a long time in a state of -great suffering and illness. He told Machiavelli, about this time, that -he had foreseen and provided against every reverse of fortune that could -possibly befall him, except his father dying at a time when he should -himself be disabled by disease. He could now enter but ineffectually -into the intrigues necessary to ensure the election of a pope favourable -to himself. Indeed, the death of Alexander was so sudden, that none of -the persons interested found time to exert their resources; and a -cardinal was raised to the pontifical throne, whose sole merit consisted -in his great age and decrepitude. Francesco Picolomini, nephew of Pius -II., was proclaimed pope on the 22d of September, under the name of Pius -III. - -He did not deceive the hopes of the cardinals;--he reigned twenty-eight -days only; and his death, which occurred on the 18th of October, left -the throne again vacant. The cardinals, during this interval, had -prepared their measures, and looked forward to a greater struggle and -more important choice. -[Sidenote: 1503. -Ætat. -34.] -The government of Florence thought it right to send an envoy, on this -occasion, to watch over its interests, and to influence consultations -which would be held concerning the future destination of Borgia. He had -already lost the greater part of his conquests: Piombino and Urbino -revolted to their former lords; and nothing remained to him but Romagna, -whose inhabitants he had attached by the firm system of government -before mentioned. The nobles, however, who had formerly governed its -various towns, were trying to regain possession of them; and Venice eyed -it as an easy prey. The popes believed, that by right, it belonged to -them; and Borgia had reigned over it as vassal to the church: this clash -of interests led him to believe that he could induce any future pope to -side with him. The neighbourhood of the cities in question to Tuscany, -rendered it imperative to Florence to watch over their fate. - -Machiavelli was sent by them just before the cardinals entered into -conclave--where, without hesitation or a dissentient voice, they elected -Julian da Rovera, cardinal of San Pietro in Vincola, who assumed the -name of Julius II. This prelate had been all his life at open enmity -with Alexander VI.: his disposition was ambitious, restless, fiery, and -obstinate; and during the struggles against the papal power in which he -had been engaged all his life, he had offended many, and excited the -hatred of a number of powerful persons. Above all, it was to be supposed -that Cæsar Borgia would oppose him; and he exercised great influence -over the Spanish cardinals. But the duke had to contend with much -adversity, so that he had but a choice of evils before him. During this -interval, even Romagna had fallen from him, with the exception of its -fortresses, of which he possessed the keys. Julian da Rovera made him -large promises; and in an age when duplicity flourished far and wide, he -had been celebrated for his veracity and good faith; even his old enemy, -Alexander VI., declared that the cardinal di San Pietro in Vincola was -sincere and trusty. - -As soon as the new pope was elected, it was projected to send Borgia -with an army to Romagna, to conquer it in the name of the holy see. -Machiavelli had frequent interviews with the fallen prince at this time, -and appears to have thrown off that admiration which his success and -spirit had formerly inspired; and he testifies no sympathy or regret in -his misfortunes. Borgia complained of the little friendship shown him by -Florence; and declared that he would relinquish every other hope, for -the sake of attacking and ruining the republic. The secretary reports -his angry expressions to his government, and adds the words of cardinal -d'Amboise, who exclaimed that "God, who never left any crime unpunished, -would not let this man escape with impunity!" - -The career of this bad hero was now drawing to a close. In the month of -November, he set out in the middle of the night for Ostia, to the great -satisfaction of all Rome, for the purpose of embarking for Spezia, with -a troop of five hundred men, and then of proceeding to Romagna. But the -pope, who had hitherto given no mark of an intention to break his -promises, suddenly determined to violate that good faith which had -formerly adorned his character, and sent the Tuscan cardinal of Volterra -(who was of course Borgia's hitter enemy) after him, to demand an order -to the officers who held the castles in Romagna, that they should be -given into the pope's hands. Borgia refused to comply with a requisition -which deprived him of the last remnant of his power; on which he was -arrested and placed on hoard a French galley. "It is not yet known," -Machiavelli writes to his government on the 26th of November, "whether -the duke is still on hoard the vessel, or brought here. Various things -are reported. One person told me that, being yesterday evening in the -pope's chamber, two men arrived from Ostia, when he was immediately -dismissed; but, while in the next room, he overheard these men say that -the duke had been thrown into the Tiber, as the pope had commanded.[123] -I do not quite believe in this story, but I do not deny it; and, I dare -say, if it has not already happened, it will happen. The pope, it is -evident, is beginning to pay his debts honourably, and cancels them with -a stroke of his pen. Every one, however, blesses this deed; and the more -he does of the like, the more popular will he be. Since the duke is -taken, whether he be alive or dead, no account need be made of him. -Nevertheless, when I hear any thing certain, you shall have -intelligence." - -The pope, however, had not yet learnt wholly to despise the force of -promises and oaths. Borgia was brought back to the Vatican, and treated -honourably. It was supposed at one time that he would be proceeded -against legally: and Machiavelli several times pressed his government to -send him the papers necessary to institute any accusation on their part. -At length, the duke gave the order to his castellans to surrender the -fortresses in question to the pope, and was set at liberty. He instantly -repaired to Naples, possessed of nothing more than a sum of money which -he had deposited with the Genoese bankers, but happy in having recovered -his personal freedom. His ambitious mind quickly conceived new schemes; -and he tried to persuade the Spanish general at Naples, Consalvo, to -assist him in his project of throwing himself into Pisa, and of -defending it against Florence. Consalvo listened and temporised, till he -received the directions of his sovereign, which he immediately obeyed. -In conformity with these, Borgia was arrested and sent on board a -galley, which conveyed him to Spain. On his arrival, he was confined in -the fortress of Medina del Campo, there to remain during his life. He -continued a prisoner, however, for two years only. In 1506, with great -audacity and labour, he let himself down from the castle by a rope, and -fled to the court of John king of Navarre, who was his wife's brother; -where he lived for some years in a humble state, the king of France -having confiscated his duchy of Valence, and forbidding him to enter -France. Finally, having gone out with the forces of the king of Navarre -to attack Viana, an insignificant castle of that kingdom, he was -surprised by an ambush, and killed. - -We have anticipated a little, to conclude the history of this man, who -figures so prominently in Machiavelli's writings, and now return to the -secretary himself. We have not space to dilate with the same minuteness -on his succeeding embassies; and there is nothing in them of peculiar -interest. His letters are always full of keen observation; and show him -to have been sagacious, faithful, and diligent. The republic kept him -actively employed; and the end of one legation was the beginning of -another. -[Sidenote: 1504. -Ætat. -35.] -He left Rome, after Borgia's arrest, in December; and, in the January -following, went to France, to ask the protection of Louis against the -dangers which Florence imagined to threaten them from the Spanish army -at Naples. -[Sidenote: 1505. -Ætat. -36.] -A peace, concluded between France and Spain, dissipated these -fears; and the secretary, after a month's residence at Lyons, returned -to his own country. After this, he was sent on four insignificant mission -to Piombino, Perugia, Mantua, and Siena. His next employment was to -raise troops in the Florentine territories. - -[Sidenote: 1506. -Ætat. -37.] - -Machiavelli was too clear-sighted and well-judging, not to perceive the -various and great evils that resulted from the republic engaging -condottieri to fight its battles. He endeavoured to impress upon the -signoria the advantages that would arise from the formation of a native -militia; and, at length, succeeded. A law was passed for the enrolling -the peasantry, and he was charged with the execution. His proceedings -were conducted with patience and industry: his letters contain accounts -of the obstacles he met from the prejudices of the people with whom he -had to deal, the pains he took to obviate them, and the care he was at -to select recruits who might be depended on. - -Pope Julius, at this time, had conceived the project of reducing to -obedience to the holy see all those towns which he considered as -rightfully belonging to it. He obtained promises of aid from France; -demanded it from Florence; and then set out on an expedition against -Giovanni Bentivoglio, lord of Bologna. The Florentines were anxious, -from economical motives, to defer sending their quota as long as they -could; and they delegated their secretary to the court militant of Rome, -to make excuses, and to watch over the progress of its arms. Machiavelli -joined the court at Cività Castellana, and proceeded with it to Viterbo, -Perugia, Urbino, and Imola. -[Sidenote: 1506.] -His letters during this legation are highly interesting; presenting a -lively picture of the violence and impetuosity of Julius II., whose -resolute and intelligent countenance Raphael has depicted on canvas in -so masterly a manner. When Bentivoglio sent ambassadors to him, he -actually scolded them--addressing them in public, and using, as the -secretary says, the most angry and venomous expressions. Machiavelli -adds: "Every one believes that, if he succeeds with regard to Bologna, -he will lose no time in attempting greater things; and it is hoped that -Italy will be preserved from him who attempted to devour it (meaning the -king of France).--Now, or never." Bentivoglio made some preparations to -fortify Bologna; but, on the arrival of troops from France in aid of his -enemy, his heart failed him and he entered into a treaty, by which he -preserved his private property; and then, with his wife and children, he -abandoned the city he had so long reigned over, and took refuge in the -duchy of Milan. - -It was apprehended, at this time, that the emperor Maximilian would -enter Italy with an army; and its various states sent ambassadors to -him, to make favourable terms. The emperor had applied to Florence for -money; and the republic sent Francesco Vettori to treat concerning the -sum. -[Sidenote: 1507. -Ætat. -38.] -They afterwards sent Machiavelli with their ultimatum. Both ambassador -and secretary remained some time at Trent, waiting on the imperial -court. -[Sidenote: 1508. -Ætat. -39.] -Machiavelli employed himself in making observations on the state -of the country, which he reduced to writing, in a brief "Account of -Germany," on his return. -He had before drawn up a similar account of the state of France. - -The favourite object of Florence continued to be the reduction of Pisa. -They purchased permission to attack it, from the kings of France and -Spain, for a large sum of money. -[Sidenote: 1509. -Ætat. -40.] -They besieged the town, dividing their army into three divisions, which -blockaded it on three sides. The camps were each commanded by -commissaries; and Machiavelli was sent thither to advise with and assist -them. He passed from one camp to the other, to watch over the execution -of the measures concerted for the siege; and, at one time, went to -Piombino, to meet some deputies from Pisa, to arrange a treaty; but it -came to nothing, and he returned to the army. He was much trusted by his -government; and one of the commissaries, in writing to the signoria, -observes, "Niccolò Machiavelli left us to-day, to review the troops of -the other camp. I have directed him to return here, as you order; and I -wish for nothing so much as to have him with me." - -After a blockade of three months, Pisa surrendered. The Florentine -republic behaved with the greatest generosity and humanity, and kept -terms faithfully with a people who had injured them deeply, and were now -wholly at their mercy. - -Late in the same year, Machiavelli was employed to convey to Mantua the -money composing a part of the subsidy of Florence to the emperor. After -having discharged this office, he was ordered to repair to Verona, "or," -as his instructions say, "wherever it seems best, to learn and -communicate intelligence of the actual state of affairs. You will -diligently write us word of every thing that happens worthy of notice, -changing the place of your abode each day." That part of Italy was, at -that time, the seat of a cruel and destructive war carried on between -the emperor and the republic of Venice. - -There existed a great spirit of enmity between Louis XII. and the pope. -Julius II. was a violent and implacable man: his former suspicions -against the French monarch were changed into excessive hatred. He was -animated, also, by the desire of acquiring the glory of liberating Italy -from the barbarians.[124] He sent troops against Genoa, which belonged -to the king; Florence had been unable to refuse a safe passage for them -through their territory: at the same time, fearing that this concession -had offended Louis, they despatched Machiavelli to make their excuses. -[Sidenote: June, -1510. -Ætat. -41.] -His letters, during this mission, disclose a curious system of bribery -with regard to the ministers of the king. Cardinal d'Amboise had always -shown himself friendly towards the republic; but this friendship had -been purchased by gold. He died a month before the arrival of the -secretary, who writes thus to the signoria:--"I had a long conversation -with Alessandro Nasi concerning the donations, that I might understand -how I ought to regulate myself with regard to them. He promised the -chancellor Robertet and the marshal Chaumont d'Amboise to pay what is -due to them, during the ensuing month of August. He told me, that he did -not think that the 10,000 ducats, which were sent here for the cardinal -d'Amboise, and which were not paid, on account of his death, could be -saved for the city, except in one way; which was, by distributing them -between the chancellor and marshal, as a portion of what is due to -them." - -He had an audience with the king at Blois. There was no Florentine -ambassador at this time at the French court; Machiavelli was merely an -envoy, with his title of secretary: the king, therefore, treated him -with little ceremony; but he received him kindly, declaring his belief -in the friendship of Florence, but desiring some further proof of it. -"Secretary," he said, "I am not at enmity with the pope, nor any one -else; but as new friendships and enmities arise each day, I wish your -government to declare at once what they will do in my favour: and do you -write word to them, that I offer all the forces of this kingdom, and to -come in person, to save their state, if necessary."[125] - -It was a difficult part for Florence, between France their ancient ally, -and the stern vindictive pope. Some time before, during their -difficulties, the republic had in some degree changed their form of -government, and elected a gonfaloniere or doge for life, instead of -changing every year; their choice had fallen on Pietro Soderini, a man -of integrity, but feeble and timid. The king of France, pushed to the -utmost by the pope, determined to call together a council, to dethrone -him. Florence offered him the city of Pisa, for it to be held; and then, -terrified by the menaces of Julius II., sent Machiavelli to Louis, to -endeavour to recall this offer, but in vain. -[Sidenote: 1511. -Ætat. -42.] -The council met, and the secretary was sent to attend upon it; it came -to nothing, however. Only four cardinals met, they were ill treated by -the people, discountenanced by the Italian clergy, and dissatisfied with -themselves: after holding two sessions at Pisa, they transferred -themselves to Milan. - -The result of this open attack of Louis upon the power of the pope -animated the latter to renewed endeavours to expel the king from Italy: -he formed a league with Spain and Venice against the French power, and a -disastrous war was the consequence. -[Sidenote: 1512. -Ætat. -43.] -At one time the French obtained a victory at Ravenna, which was -detrimental to them, since Gaston de Foix and 10,000 of their -bravest soldiers were left on the field of battle. Florence remained -neuter during this struggle, but the republic was accused of a -secret partiality for France, and its punishment was resolved upon -at the diet of Mantua. - -The Medici family still hovered round Florence, desirous of reinstating -themselves in their ancient seats, and of reassuming the power enjoyed -by their forefathers. Piero de' Medici had fallen in the battle of the -Gariglano, some years before; he left a son named Lorenzo, and a -daughter, Clarice. His brother the cardinal Giovanni had, while he -perceived his cause hopeless, quitted Italy, and visited many parts of -France and Germany, nor returned to Rome till the elevation of Julius -II.: from that time he took an important part in the public affairs of -Italy, and was appointed legate during the war. His influence was -exerted during the diet of Mantua, and the punishment of Florence was -decreed to consist in the overthrow of the existing government, and the -restoration of the Medici. The details of the expedition of the allies -against the republic are related by Machiavelli in a private letter, -which, though highly interesting, is too long to extract.[126] The -gonfaloniere Soderini exerted some energy at the commencement of the -struggle, but was unable to hold out long. The army, under the command -of the viceroy of Naples, entered Tuscany, and taking Prato by assault, -massacred its inhabitants without respect for age or sex. The -Florentines were alarmed by this cruelty, and resolved to submit. -Soderini and his partisans quitted the city and repaired to Siena, and -the Medici entered Florence. The cardinal was at their head, accompanied -by his younger brother Giuliano, his nephew Lorenzo, son of Piero, and -his cousin Julius de' Medici, descended from the brother of Cosmo. - -Thus fell a government which Machiavelli had served faithfully for -fourteen years. His labours had been great during this period, the -honours he enjoyed of no conspicuous nature, and his emoluments were -very slender. When on his various missions, he was allowed only a -trifling addition to his salary as secretary, which frequently was not -commensurate to his increased expenditure, and afforded no room for -luxury or display. "It is true," he writes to the signoria from Verona, -"that I spend more than the ducat a day that you allow me for my -expenses; nevertheless, now, as heretofore, I shall be satisfied with -whatever you please to give." There was nothing mercenary in -Machiavelli's disposition, and he seems perfectly content with -continuing in the office he enjoyed, without rising higher. He went on -his legations always in the character of envoy, at such times when the -republic thought it best to treat by means of a delegate less costly and -of less authority than an ambassador. Thus his letters often ask to be -replaced by a minister entrusted with more extensive powers. Evidently, -throughout his active career, he had the good of his country only at -heart. He was steady, faithful, and industrious: he recommended himself -to the powers to whom he was sent by his intelligence and his want, of -pretension. Up to the moment of Soderini's exile, he acted for the -Gonfaloniere and his council. His last office was to gather the militia -together, for the purpose of checking the advance of the viceroy through -the passages of the Apennines. He was too late, and his forces were too -scanty; for Pietro Soderini, timid and temporising, did not give credit -to the extent of danger that menaced him till the last moment. His fear -of appearing ambitious, and making himself obnoxious to his fellow -citizens, prevented him from taking those resolute measures necessary -for his safety: but Machiavelli continued faithful to him, till the -moment he quitted the city. Then he turned his eyes to the new -government and the Medici, who, though introduced under had auspices, -showed no disposition to tyrannise over their fellow-citizens. He was -poor, and had a large family; and, though a lover of liberty, was not -personally attached to the fallen Gonfaloniere. The forms of government -continued the same, and he was still secretary to the Council of Ten. He -desired and expected to continue in office, and to exercise functions, -which could not be otherwise than beneficial to his country. - -His hopes were deceived: he was considered by the Medici as too firm an -adherent of the adverse party. He was deprived of his place, and -sentenced not to quit for one year the territory of the republic, nor to -enter the palace of government. But this was not the end, it was only -the beginning, of his disasters. Shortly after, the enemies of the -Medici conspired against them: the conspiracy was discovered, and two of -the chief among them were beheaded. Machiavelli was supposed to be -implicated in the plot: he was thrown into prison, and put to the -torture. No confession could be extorted from him, and it is possible -that he was entirely innocent of the alleged crime. He was soon after -comprised in the act of amnesty published by the new pope. On the death -of Julius II., cardinal de' Medici was elevated to the pontifical -throne; he assumed the name of Leo X., and signalised his exaltation by -this act of clemency. On his liberation Machiavelli wrote to his friend -Francesco Vettori, the Florentine ambassador at the papal court, who had -exerted himself in his favour, in these terms:--"You have heard from -Paolo Vettori that I am come out of prison, to the universal joy of this -city. I will not relate the long story of my misfortunes; and will only -say, that fate has done her utmost to bring them about; but, thank God, -they are at an end. I hope to be safe for the future, partly because I -intend to be more cautious, and partly because the times are more -liberal and less suspicious." - -[Sidenote: 1513. -Ætat. -44.] - -Francesco Vettori, on hearing of his liberation, had already written, -and their letters crossed on the road. "Honoured friend," he wrote, "I -have suffered greater grief during these last eight months than I ever -endured during the course of my whole life before: but the worst was -when I knew that you were arrested, as I feared that, without cause or -fault of yours, you would be put to the torture, as was really the case. -I am sorry that I could not assist you, as you had a right to expect; -but as soon as the pope was created, I asked him no favour except your -liberation, which I am glad to find had already taken place. And now, -dear friend, I have to entreat you to take heart during this -persecution, as you have done on other occasions: and I hope, as things -are now tranquil, and their (_the Medici_) good fortune transcends all -imagination, that you will soon he permitted to quit Tuscany. If I -remain here, I wish you would come to me, for as long a time as you -like." - -"Rome, 15th of March, 1513. - - -Machiavelli replies:-- - -"Your very kind letter has made me forget my past disasters; and -although I was convinced of the affection you bore me, yet your letter -delighted me. I thank you heartily, and pray God that I may be able to -show my gratitude to your advantage. You may derive this pleasure from -my misfortunes, that I think well of myself for the courage with which I -bore them, so that I feel myself of more value than I before gave myself -credit for: and if my masters, the magnificent Giuliano and your Paolo, -to whom I owe my life, will raise me from the earth, I think they will -hereafter have cause to congratulate themselves. If they will not, I -shall live as I have done before; for I was born poor, and I learnt to -suffer before I learnt to enjoy. If you remain at Rome, I will spend -some time with you, as you advise. All our friends salute you. Every day -we assemble at some lady's house, so to recover our strength. Yesterday -we went to see the procession in the house of Sandra di Pero, and thus -we pass our time during this universal rejoicing, enjoying the remnant -of life, which appears to me like a dream. Valete. - -"Florence, 18th of March, 1513. - - -From this time till the end of his life we possess a series of -Machiavelli's private correspondence, of the most valuable kind. His -chief friend was Vettori, who continued to reside as ambassador at Rome. -Some of their letters are long political discussions, which Vettori drew -Machiavelli in to write, that he might show them to pope Leo X., and -excite him to admire and employ his talents. His endeavours were without -success. Machiavelli continued for many years to live in obscurity, -sometimes at Florence, sometimes at his country-house at San Casciano, a -bathing town among the hills, south of Pisa. His letters from Florence -contain the gossip of their acquaintance,--amusing anecdotes that paint -the manners, while they give us no exalted idea of the morals, of the -Italians of those days. Machiavelli himself had no poetry nor delicacy -of imagination: his feelings were impetuous, and his active mind -required some passion or pursuit to fill it. He bitterly laments the -inaction of his life, and expresses an ardent desire to be employed. -Meanwhile, he created occupation for himself; and it is one of the -lessons that we may derive from becoming acquainted with the feelings -and actions of celebrated men, to learn that this very period, during -which Machiavelli repined at the neglect of his contemporaries, and the -tranquillity of his life, was that during which his fame took root, and -which brought his name down to us. He occupied his leisure in writing -those works which have occasioned his immortality. No one would have -searched the Florentine archives for his public correspondence, acute -and instructive as it is, nor would his private letters now lie before -us, if he had not established a name through his other writings. He -wrote them to bring himself into present notice, and to show the Medici -the worth of that man whom they dishonoured and neglected. - -One of his letters from the country to Vettori, is so interesting, and -so necessary to the appreciation of his character, that we give it at -length:-- - -"_Tarde non furon mai grazie divine._ Divine favours never come too -late. I say this, because it seemed to me that I had, not lost, but -mislaid your kindness, you having remained so long without writing to -me, that I wondered what might be the cause. Your last of the 23d -dissipated my doubts, and I am delighted to find how quietly and -regularly you fulfil your office. I advise you to go on thus; for -whosoever neglects his own affairs for those of others, injures himself -and gets no thanks. As fortune chooses to dispose of our lives, let her -alone. Do not exert yourself, but wait till she urges other men to do -something, when it will be time for you to come forward, and for me to -say. Here I am. I cannot thank you in any way except by giving you an -account of my life here; and you may see whether it is worth exchanging -for yours. - -"I remain at my country house; and since the last events I have not -spent in all twenty days in Florence. I have hitherto been killing -thrushes. Rising before daylight I prepared my snares, and set off with -a bundle of cages at my back, so that I resembled Geta, when he returns -from the harbour with Amphytrion's books. I took two or at most seven -thrushes each day.[127] Thus passed September, since when, to my great -annoyance, this diversion has failed me; and my life has been such as I -will now detail. I rise with the sun, and go to a wood of mine, which I -am cutting; where I remain a couple of hours, reviewing the work of the -past day, and talking with the woodcutters, who are always in trouble -either for themselves or their neighbours. I have a thousand -entertaining things to tell you, which have happened with regard to this -wood[128], between me and Fresino da Panzaro and others, who wanted to -buy some of the wood. Frosino sent for several loads without saying a -word to me; and on payment wanted to keep back ten livres, which he says -he ought to have had from me four years ago, having won it at play, at -the house of Antonio Guicciardini. I began to play the devil, and to -accuse the carrier of cheating, on which G. Machiavelli interfered, and -brought us to agree. When the north wind blew, Battista Guicciardini, -Filippo Ginori, Tommaso del Bene, and several other citizens took a -load. I promised some to all, and sent one to Tommaso, half of which -went to Florence, because he and his wife and children were there to -receive it. So, seeing I gained nothing by it, I told the others that I -had no more wood, which made them all very angry, especially Battista, -who numbers this among other state troubles. When I leave the wood I go -to a fountain, where I watch my bird nets with a book in hand; either -Dante or Petrarch, or one of the minor Latin poets--Tibullus, Ovid, or -one similar. I read the accounts of their loves; I think of my own, and -for a while enjoy these thoughts. Then I go to the inn on the road side; -I talk with the passers by; ask the news of their villages; I hear many -things, and remark on the various tastes and fancies of men. Meanwhile -the hour of dinner arrives, and I dine with my family on such food as my -poor house and slight patrimony afford. When I have dined, I return to -the inn; where I usually find the host, a butcher, a miller, and two -kiln men: with these I associate for the rest of the day, playing at -cricca and tric-trac. We have a thousand squabbles; angry words are -used, often about a farthing, and we wrangle so loudly, that you might -hear us at San Casciano. Immersed in this vulgarity, I exhaust my -spirits, and give free course to my evil fortune; letting her tread me -thus under foot, with the hope that she will at last become ashamed of -herself. - -"When evening comes I return home, and shut myself up in my study. -Before I make my appearance in it, I take off my rustic garb, soiled -with mud and dirt, and put on a dress adapted for courts or cities. Thus -fitly habited I enter the antique resorts of the ancients; where, being -kindly received, I feed on that food which alone is mine, and for which -I was born. For an interval of four hours I feel no annoyance; I forget -every grief, I neither fear poverty nor death, but am totally immersed. -As Dante says, 'No one learns a science unless he remembers what he is -taught;' so have I noted down that store of knowledge which I have -collected from this conversation; and have composed a little work on -princely governments, in which I analyse the subject as deeply as I can, -discussing what a principality is; how many kinds there are; in what way -they are acquired; how kept; how lost: and if any devise of mine ever -pleased you, this will not be displeasing. It ought to be acceptable to -princes, and chiefly to a new prince, wherefore I address it to Giuliano -de' Medici. Filippo Casavecchia has seen it, and can describe the thing -to you, and recount the discussions we have had together about it. I am -still adding to and polishing it. - -"Your excellency desires that I should leave this place to go and enjoy -myself with you. I will do so assuredly; but am detained by some -affairs, which will keep me here about seven weeks. The only thing that -causes me to hesitate is, that the Soderini are in your town; and I -should be obliged to see and visit them; and I should be afraid on my -return that, instead of alighting at my own door, I should alight at the -gates of the prison; because, although our person here (_Giuliano de' -Medici_) has secure foundation, and is fixed, yet he is new and -suspicious; and there are not wanting meddling fellows, like Paolo -Bertini, who would draw upon others and leave me all the trouble. -Preserve me from this fear, and I will certainly come to you. - -"I have talked with Philip concerning my little work, whether I shall -dedicate it or not; and if I do, whether I shall present it myself, or -send it to you. If I do not dedicate it, I fear that Giuliano will not -even read it, but that Ardinghelli will get the honour of it. Necessity -drives me to present it, for I pine away, and cannot remain long thus -without becoming despicable through poverty. I wish these signori Medici -would begin to make use of me, even if I commenced by rolling a stone, -for if I did not afterwards gain their favour I should despise myself. -And, therefore, if this book were read, they would see that, for the -fifteen years during which I studied the arts of government, I neither -slept nor played; and every one ought to be glad to make use of one who -has learned experience at the expense of others. Nor need they doubt my -fidelity; for having proved myself trustworthy hitherto, I would not -alter now: he who has been faithful for forty-three years, as I have, -cannot change his nature; and my poverty is a witness of my honour and -disinterestedness. - -"I wish you would tell me what you think on these matters, and so -farewell.--_Si felix._ - -"NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI. - -"10th of December, 1513." - - -The expressions in this letter appear sufficiently clear, that he wrote -"The Prince," for the purpose of recommending himself to the Medici, and -of being employed by them. His sons afterwards declared to our -countryman, cardinal Pole, that he alleged, his intention to be, to -induce the Medici to render themselves so hateful to Florence, by acting -on the maxims he laid down, as to cause them to be exiled anew. There is -no trace of this idea in his private correspondence. Giuliano de' Medici -was an amiable prince, and he often praises him highly. It is true that -his work is dedicated to Lorenzo de' Medici; but this change was -occasioned by the death of Giuliano. And even of Lorenzo, who was -unpopular. Machiavelli writes thus to Vettori:--"I must give you some -account of the proceedings of the Magnifico Lorenzo, which have hitherto -been such as to fill the city with hope; so that every one begins to see -his grandfather revived in him. He is diligent and affable, and causes -himself to be loved and respected, rather than feared." Nor can it be -believed that Machiavelli was so devoid of understanding, as to fancy -that he could dupe men as intelligent as Leo X. and cardinal Julius, who -were the heads of the family, by so barefaced an artifice. Besides that, -the authority of the Medici was maintained by foreign arms, and the -citizens were already very willing to get rid of them, as was proved a -very few years after. Yet his real intentions form a question, perhaps, -never to be decided. On one hand, the treatise is so broad and -unplausible in its recommendations, that it is difficult to suppose him -in earnest; and, on the other, it is so dry, and has in so small a -degree the air of irony, that it can scarcely be regarded as a satire. -If it is, it is ill done, since men have not yet agreed whether it is -one or not. - -Let us turn to the work itself, however, and present some analysis of a -treatise which has been the subject of so much disquisition. -Machiavelli, in the letter given above, professes to have written his -book for the instruction of new princes,--_principi nuovi_,--sovereigns -lately raised to power. Italy was then divided into small states, -governed by a variety of lords. Sometimes one among them endeavoured, -like Cæsar Borgia, to conquer a number of these, and to unite them into -one state. Machiavelli taught how a prince thus situated might acquire -and confirm his power. He adduces the example of the Duke of Valence, -saying, "He does not know how to give better precepts to a new sovereign -than those afforded by a view of Borgia's conduct." [129] He describes -the course of his policy, applauds the perfidy with which he destroyed -the confederates of Magione, and holds up the death of Ramiro d' Oreo as -a laudable proceeding. He allows, that perseverance in cruelty on the -part of a prince becomes unendurable. "And, therefore," he says, "a -prince should determine to execute all his acts of blood at once, so -that he may not be obliged each day to renew them; but give security to -his subjects, and gain them by benefits. Injuries ought to be done at -once, because thus they are less felt, and offend less; but benefits -ought to be bestowed gradually, that they may produce a profounder -impression." - -The reader may judge whether this maxim is sagacious, and seriously -enjoined; or mischievous, and therefore brought forward with sinister -and sarcastic motives. - -The first fourteen chapters are taken up by considering the various -modes by which a prince acquires power--either by force of arms, or the -favour of the citizens; being imposed on them by the aristocracy, or -raised by the affection of the people. In the course of these -considerations he remarks (chap, V.), that "he who becomes master of a -city habituated to freedom, and does not destroy it, must expect to be -destroyed by it; because it will, in every rebellion, take refuge in the -name of liberty and its ancient rights, the memory of which can never be -extinguished by time or benefits." The fifteenth chapter is -headed,--"Concerning those things for which men, and principally -sovereigns are praised or blamed." He begins by saying,--"It now remains -to be seen what government and treatment a prince ought to observe with -his subjects and friends. I know many people have written on this topic; -and I expect, therefore, to be accused of presumption, in differing from -the opinions of others in my view of the subject. But, it being my -intention to write what is useful to those who rule, it appears to me -better to follow up the truth of things, than to bring forward imaginary -ideas." He adds, "A man who, instead of acting for the best, acts as he -ought, seeks rather his ruin than his preservation. For he who resolves -on all occasions to adhere to what is virtuous, must be destroyed by the -many who are not virtuous. Hence it is necessary that a prince, who -would maintain his power, should learn not to be virtuous, but to adapt -the morality of his actions to the dictates of necessity." He then -enumerates the good and bad qualities for which sovereigns are -distinguished, and adds:--"I know that every one will confess that it -would he laudable for a prince to possess all the above-mentioned -qualities, which are considered virtuous; but human nature does not -allow of this. It is necessary, however, that he should be prudent, and -avoid the infamy of those vices which would deprive him of power; and it -would be well if he avoided the others also, if it were possible; but if -it be not possible, he may yield to them with less danger. And also he -must not hesitate to incur the reputation of those vices, through which -his government may be preserved; for, on deep consideration, it will be -found that there is a line of conduct which appears right, but which -leads to ruin: and there is another which appears vicious, but from -which security and prosperity flow." - -And this is what is called Machiavelian policy. - -He goes on to show, that generosity, which is supported by extortion, -must injure a prince more than parsimony, which makes no demands on the -subject; he therefore advises a prince to gain a character for -liberality, rather by being prodigal of the wealth of others than his -own. "For," he says, "nothing consumes itself so much as liberality; for -while you use it, you lose your power of so doing, and you become poor -and despicable; or, to escape from poverty, grow rapacious and odious. A -prince ought carefully to guard against becoming odious and -contemptible: and liberality is one of the good qualities most likely to -lead to this result, and therefore to be avoided." - -He then treats of "Cruelty and clemency, and whether it is better to be -feared or loved." He says;--"Every sovereign ought to desire to be -esteemed merciful, and not cruel. Nevertheless, he ought to take care to -what use he puts his mercy. Cæsar Borgia was considered cruel; -nevertheless his cruelty subdued Romagna, and united it, and reduced it -to peace and obedience. A prince, therefore, ought not to fear the -reputation of cruelty, if by it he preserves his subjects tranquil and -faithful. A few examples will be more merciful than tolerating -disorders, through a compassion, which gives rise to assassinations and -disturbances; for these injure the community, while the execution of -offenders is injurious to individuals only." He then enters on a -discussion of whether it is better for a prince to be loved or feared. -He decides for the latter; for, he says, "Love is a duty, which, as men -are wicked, is continually transgressed; but fear arises from the dread -of punishment, which is never lost sight of." Nothing can be more false -than this. Men like to be benefited even more than they dislike being -injured; and love is a more universal passion than terror. He continues, -"Still a prince, while he seeks to be feared, must avoid being -hated--for fear is very distinct from hatred. And he ought always to -avoid seizing on the goods of his subjects. He may, as far as is -justified by the cause given, proceed against the life of an individual; -but let him not touch the possessions. For men more easily forget the -death of a father than the loss of patrimony." After stating this -diabolical and false maxim in all its native deformity, he proceeds to -consider the propriety of a sovereign's preserving his good faith: -remarking, that though good faith and integrity are praiseworthy in a -prince, experience in his own time shows those statesmen to have -achieved the greatest things, who held truth in small esteem:--"For -there are two ways of acting,--one by law and the other by force; the -one for men, the other for animals; but when the first does not succeed, -it is necessary to have recourse to the second; and a sovereign ought to -know how to put the animal man to good use. A prudent prince cannot and -ought not to observe faith, when such observance would injure him, or -the occasions for which he pledged himself are at an end. A sovereign, -therefore, need not possess all the virtues I have mentioned; but it is -necessary that he should appear so to do. A prince cannot always -practise the qualities which are esteemed good, being often obliged to -maintain his power by acting against the dictates of humanity and -religion. He must act conscientiously when he can; but when obliged, he -ought to be capable of doing ill. A prince ought to take great care not -to say a word that is not animated by good feeling, and he ought to -appear full of pity, integrity, humanity, and religion; and there is -nothing so necessary as that he should appear to attend to the last. -Every one sees what you seem; few know what you are." Very false, -notwithstanding its plausibility: children even have an instinct for -detecting false appearances. - -He tells princes to cherish the affections of the people; as, he says, -if loved by his subjects, he need fear no conspiracy; but, hated by -them, he has every thing to dread. He avers, also, that it is easier for -a newly raised prince to make friends of those who opposed him, than to -preserve the good will of his own partisans. He goes on to give much -advice concerning the choice of ministers and courtiers, and concerning -the influence of fortune over states; and shows how concord and -constancy are the only modes by which a government can preserve itself -during the variations of fortune; and that, above all, it is necessary -not to submit timidly, but to command her by audacity and resolution. - -He concludes by an exhortation to the Italians to drive the barbarians, -French, Spaniards, and Germans, from their country. "It appears to me," -he says, "considering all things, that there is an admirable opening for -a new prince to introduce another state of things into Italy. Does not -the whole land pray God to send her some one to free her from the -barbarians? And is she not ready to follow any banner, if some one -prince would display it? Nor do we see any house from which she can hope -so much as yours (_that of Lorenzo de' Medici_) favoured as it is by God -and the church; being at the head of which, it may lead us to this -redemption. The justice of your cause is great, and the war will be -just, and necessary, and pious. God, also, has opened the way for you. -The Italians, however, must accustom themselves to the exercise of arms, -if they would defend their country from foreign invaders. The infantry -of other kingdoms have their defects: the Spaniards cannot stand the -impetus of cavalry; the Swiss would fear any infantry which should show -itself as strong as themselves. Let the Italians, therefore, form an -army of foot that shall possess none of these defects, and which shall -be able to resist the shock of both horse and foot; and this must be -done by a novel style of command, by introducing which, a new ruler will -acquire reputation and power. You ought not, therefore, to lose this -opportunity of appearing as the deliverer of Italy. I cannot express -with what affection such a one would be received in those provinces -which have suffered from the inundation of foreign troops; with what -thirst of vengeance, what resolute fidelity; with what piety, and what -grateful tears he would be followed. What gates would be shut against -him? what people would refuse to render him obedience? what Italian -would hesitate to submit to his rule? Every one abhors the authority of -the barbarians. Let, therefore, your illustrious house assume this -enterprise, animated by that hope which a just cause inspires, so that -your country may rise triumphant under your auspices." - -There is nothing that is not patriotic and praiseworthy in these -exhortations; and they were such, moreover, as were likely to gain the -hearts of the Italians. If, therefore, he is previously sarcastic, he is -serious here; and the mixture renders still more enigmatic the question -of the aim he had in view in this work. - -Besides "The Prince," Machiavelli wrote, at this time, his "Essays on -the first Decade of Livy." These are considered by their author as his -best work; an opinion confirmed by the learned Italians of the present -day. They breathe a purely republican spirit, and have for their scope -to demonstrate how the greatness of Rome resulted from the equal laws of -the commonwealth, and the martial character of its citizens. He -dedicated them to his friends Zanobi Buondelmonte, and Cosimo Rucellai, -who were the patrons of the academy of the Rucellai gardens, a society -set on foot by the father of Cosimo, for the support of the Platonic -philosophy, and whose youthful followers were all devoted to liberty. - -"The Art of War" was also written at this time, as well as his two -comedies, his "Belfegor," and "Life of Castruccio Castracani." The -"Belfegor" has laid him open to the supposition that he was not happy in -his married life: but there is no foundation for this notion. He was, -early in life, married to Marietta Corsini, and had five children. He -always mentions his wife with affection and respect in his letters, and -gives tokens, in his will, of the perfect confidence he reposed in her. -"Belfegor" has always been a popular tale: it is written with great -spirit, and possesses the merit of novelty and wit. His comedies are -thought highly of by the Italians. The "Mandragola," licentious as it -is, was a great favourite. Leo X. caused the actors and scenic -decorations to be brought from Florence to Rome, that he might see it -represented; and Guicciardini invited the author to come to get it up at -Modena, and tells him to bring with him a favourite singer and actress, -named La Barbara, to give it more effect: so early in Italian history do -we find mention of prime donne, and of the court paid to them. - -But all this diligent authorship did not satisfy the active mind of -Machiavelli: he tried to school himself to content, and says, in one of -his letters to Vettori, "I am arrived at not desiring any thing again -with passion." But this was a deceit which he practised on himself. "If -I saw you," he writes again to his friend, "I should fill your head with -castles in the air; because fortune has so arranged, that, not being -able to discourse concerning the silk trade, nor the woollen trade, nor -of gains nor losses, I must talk of the art of government."--"While I -read and re-read your disquisitions on politics, I forget my adversity, -and appear to have entered again on those public affairs, in prosecuting -which I vainly endured so much fatigue, and spent so much time." - -The endeavours of Vettori, who was attached to the Medici, to gain -favour for his friend with Leo X., were long ineffectual; and -Machiavelli showed symptoms of despair. -[Sidenote: 1514. -Ætat. -45.] -"It seems," he writes, "that I am to continue in my hole, without -finding a man who will remember my services, or believe that I can be -good for any thing. It is impossible that I can remain long thus. I pine -away; and see that, if God will not be more favourable to me, I shall be -obliged to leave my home, and become secretary to some petty officer, if -I can do nothing else; or exile myself into some desert to teach -children to read. I shall feign that I am dead; and my family will get -on much better without me; as I am the cause of expense--being -accustomed to spend, and unable to do otherwise. I do not write this to -induce you to take trouble for my sake; but to ease my mind, so as not -to recur again to so odious a subject." - -Yet all his letters are not complaining. The spirit of "Belfegor" and -"La Mandragola" animates many of them. "We are now grave," he writes, -"and now frivolous; but we ought not to be blamed for this variety, as -in it we imitate nature, which is full of change." - -[Sidenote: 1519. -Ætat. -50.] - -The first use to which the Medici put him, was when Leo X. had placed -the cardinal Julius over Florence, and washed to remodel the government. -He addressed himself to Machiavelli for his advice; and the latter -wrote, in reply, his "Essay on the Reform of the Government of Florence, -Written at the request of Leo X." Soon after Leo died, and the cardinal -Julius expected to have been elected pope. He was disappointed, and -returned to Florence to confirm his authority. The death of Leo awakened -the hopes of the opposite party; and a conspiracy was at this juncture -entered into by the nephew of the gonfaloniere Soderini and the young -philosophers of the Rucellai, to expel the Medici. It was discovered; -two ringleaders were put to death, and the rest fled. - -Sismondi hastily assumes the fact, that Machiavelli was implicated in -this plot; but, on the contrary, there seems every proof that he took no -part in it whatever; and at this very time he was again employed by the -reigning powers. -[Sidenote: 1521. -Ætat. -52.] -The Minor Friars were assembled in chapter at Carpi, in the duchy of -Modena. The government of Florence wished to obtain from them, that -their republic should be formed by their order, into a distinct -province, separated from the rest of Tuscany. At the instance of -cardinal Julius, Machiavelli was charged with this negotiation. A few -days after his arrival at Carpi, the council of the company of the -woollen trade commissioned him to procure a good preacher for the -metropolitan church at Florence, during the ensuing Lent. His letters to -his employers, on these occasions, are as serious and methodical as -during any other legation; but in his heart he disdained the petty -occupation. His friend Francesco Guicciardini, the celebrated historian, -was then governor of Modena; and several amusing letters passed between -them while Machiavelli was at Carpi. Guicciardini writes: "When I read -your titles of ambassador to republics and friars, and consider the -number of kings and princes with whom you have formerly negotiated, I am -reminded of Lysander, who, after so many victories, had the office of -distributing provisions to the army he had formerly commanded; and I say -that, though the aspects of men, and the exterior appearances of things, -are changed, the same circumstances perpetually return, and we witness -no event that did not take place in times gone by." - -Machiavelli replies with greater gaiety:--"I can tell you that, on the -arrival of your messenger, with a bow to the ground, and a declaration -that he was sent express and in haste, every one arose with so many bows -and so much clamour, that all things seemed turned topsy-turvy. Many -persons asked me the news; and I, to increase my importance, said that -the emperor was expected at Trent, that the Swiss were assembling a new -diet, and that the king of France was going to have an interview with -the king of England; so that all stood open-mouthed and cap in hand to -hear me. I am surrounded by a circle now, while writing, who, seeing me -occupied upon so long a letter, wonder and regard me as one possessed; -and I, to excite their surprise, pause now and then, and look very wise; -and they are deceived. If they knew what I was writing, their wonder -would in crease. Pray send one of your men again; and let him hurry, and -arrive in a heat, so that these people may be more and more astonished; -for thus you will do me honour, and the exercise will be good for the -horse at this season of the year. I would now write you a longer letter, -if I were willing to tire out my imagination; but I wish to preserve it -fresh for to-morrow. Remember me, and farewell. - -"Your servant, - -"NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI, - -"Ambassador to the Minor Friars. - -"Carpi, 17th of May, 1521." - - -This letter, as well as well as one of Guicciardini's on this occasion, -has been mutilated by a person, whose scrupulous good taste was offended -by the tone of some of the pleasantries. That was not the age of decorum -either in speech or action. -[Sidenote: 1524. -Ætat. -55.] -The cardinal Julius had commissioned Machiavelli to write the history of -Florence, and he proceeded in it as far as the death of Lorenzo de' -Medici. He writes to Guicciardini, on the 30th of August, 1524, "I am -staying in the country, occupied in writing my history; and I would give -fivepence--I will not say more--to have you here, that I might show you -where I am, as in certain particulars I wish to know whether you would -be offended most by my elevated or humble manner of treating them. I -try, nevertheless, to write so as, by telling the truth, to displease no -one." - -[Sidenote: 1526. -Ætat. -57.] - -Cardinal Julius had now become pope, under the title of Clement VII. He -paid Machiavelli a regular but very limited salary as historiographer. -Having brought it down to the time of the death of Lorenzo de' Medici, -he made a volume of it, and dedicated it to the pope. On this occasion -he writes to Guicciardini, "I have received a gratification of 100 -ducats for my history. I am beginning again; and relieve myself by -blaming the princes who have done every thing they can to bring us to -this pass." He signs himself to this letter, Niccolò Machiavelli, -historian, comic and tragic author,--_storico, comico, et tragico._ - -The condition of Italy was at this period most deplorable. The French -had been driven from Italy after the battle of Pavia; but no sooner was -that power humbled, than the various states began to regard with alarm -the ascendancy of the emperor Charles V. A confederacy was formed by the -chief among them, for the purpose of holding this powerful monarch in -check; and he sent the constable Bourbon to Milan to preserve that -duchy. Thus there were two armies in the heart of the peninsula, both -unpaid, both lawless, and destructive to friends as well as to enemies. -The emperor sent no supplies to Bourbon; and the pope, who was at the -head of the Italian league, showed himself so timid and vaccillating, -and, above all, so penurious, as to bring down ruin on his cause. - -Bourbon was unable to keep his troops together, except by promises of -plunder; and he led them southward by slow advances, with the intention -of enriching them by the sack of Florence or Rome. The danger was -nearest to the former city; and Clement VII. considered it requisite to -put it in a state of defence. Machiavelli was employed to inspect the -progress of the fortifications. He executed his task diligently, and, as -was his wont, put his whole heart and soul into his occupation. "My head -is so full of bulwarks," he says, "that nothing else will enter it." - -The imperial army continued to advance; and the Florentine government, -in great alarm, sent Machiavelli to Guicciardini, governor of Modena, -and lieutenant-general of the papal forces, to take measures with regard -to the best method of securing the republic; and it was agreed that, if -the imperialists advanced, the forces of the church should be sent in -aid of Florence. The winter season and other circumstances delayed the -operations of the imperialists, but early in the following spring the -danger grew imminent. -[Sidenote: 1527. -Ætat. -58.] -Bourbon had arrived with his army to the vicinity of Bologna; and there -was every likelihood that his army would traverse Tuscany, and attack -Florence itself. Machiavelli again went to Parma, to advise with -Guicciardini, to watch over the movements of the hostile army, and to -send frequent intelligence to Florence of their proceedings. The -republic wished that the troops of the Italian league should assemble at -Bologna, and be on the spot to guard the frontiers of Tuscany. - -The imperialists continued to advance: the pope, alarmed by their -progress, entered into a treaty for peace with the emperor; but it was -uncertain whether the army under Bourbon would agree to it. Machiavelli -continued for some weeks at Parma, and then accompanied Guicciardini to -Bologna, watching their movements. It was doubtful what road they would -take on proceeding to Rome; but the chances still were, that they would -pass through Tuscany. The army now removed to Castel San Giovanni, ten -miles from Bologna, where they remained some days, detained by the bad -weather, and overflowing of the low lands, caused by the melting of the -snow, which had fallen heavily around Bologna: they were in danger, -while thus forced to delay, of being reduced to great straits for want -of provisions. "If this weather lasts two days longer," Machiavelli -wrote to his government, "the duke of Ferrara may, sleeping and sitting, -put an end to the war." - -A truce was concluded between Clement VII. and the ministers of Charles -V.; but it was not acceded to by Bourbon and his army. The pope, -however, unaware of this circumstance, dismissed his troops, and -remained wholly unguarded. The imperialists, rendered unanimous through -the effects of hunger and poverty, continued to advance. They entered -Tuscany; but, without staying to attack Florence, they hurried on by -forced marches and falling unexpectedly on Rome, took it by assault; and -that dreadful sack took place, which filled the city with death and -misery, and spread alarm throughout Italy. Machiavelli followed the -Italian army, as it advanced to deliver the pope, who was besieged in -the Castel Sant' Angelo. From the environs of Rome he repaired to -Cività Vecchia, where Andrea Doria commanded a fleet; and from him he -obtained the means of repairing by sea to Leghorn. Before embarking, he -received intelligence of the revolution of Florence. On hearing of the -taking of Rome, on the 6th of May, the republicans rose against the -Medici; and they were forced to quit the city. The government was -changed on the 16th of May, and things were restored to the state they -were in 1512. - -Machiavelli returned to Florence full of hope. He considered that the -power was now in the hands of his friends, and that he should again -enter on public life under prosperous auspices. His hopes were -disappointed--public feeling was against him: his previous services, his -imprisonment and torture, were forgotten; while it was remembered that, -since 1513, he had been continually aiming at getting employed by the -Medici, against whom the popular feeling was violently excited. He had -succeeded at last; and was actually in their service, when they were -driven from the city. These circumstances rendered him displeasing to -men who considered themselves the deliverers of their country. -Machiavelli was disappointed by their neglect, and deeply wounded by -their distrust. He fell ill; and taking some pills, to which he was in -the habit of having recourse when indisposed, he grew worse, and died -two days after--on the 22d of June, 1527--in the 59th year of his age. - -Paul Jovius, his old enemy, insinuates that he took the medicine for the -sake of destroying himself,--a most clumsy sort of suicide,--but there -is no foundation whatever for this report.[130] His wife Marietta, the -daughter of Ludovico Corsini, survived him; and he left five -children,--four sons and one daughter. He had made a will in 1511, when -secretary of the republic; and in 1522 he made another, which only -differs in details--the spirit is the same. He leaves his "beloved wife" -an addition to her dower, and divides the rest of his slight fortune -between his children. Marietta is left guardian and trustee of the -younger children--to continue till they were nineteen--with a clause -forbidding them to demand any account of money spent; and mentions that -he reposes entire confidence in her. - -Machiavelli was of middle stature, rather thin, and of olive complexion. -He was gay in conversation, obliging with his friends, and fond of the -arts. He had readiness of wit; and it is related of him, that, being -reproved for the maxims of his "Prince," he replied--"If I taught -princes how to tyrannise, I also taught the people how to destroy them." -He probably developes in these words, the secret of his writings. He was -willing to _teach_ both parties, but his heart was with the republicans. -He was buried at the church of Santa Croce at Florence; and soon after -his death a violent sensation was created against his works--principally -through an attack on the "Prince," by our own countryman, cardinal Pole. -They were interdicted by successive popes, and considered to contain -principles subversive of religion and humanity. - -It was not till the lapse of more than two centuries that a re-action of -feeling took place--and the theory was brought forward, that he wrote -for the sake of inducing the Medici to render themselves odious to their -countrymen, so as to bring ruin and exile again on their house. In 1782, -the Florentines were induced by the representations of an English -nobleman, lord Cowper, to pay honour to their countryman, and set on -foot a complete edition of his works; which Leopold, grand duke of -Tuscany, permitted to be printed; and which was preceded by an eulogium -written by Baldelli. In 1787, a monument was erected over his remains, -on which was carved the following inscription:-- - - -Tanto Nomini nullum par Elogium -NICOLAUS MACHIAVELLI. -Obiit Anno A. P. V. MDXXVII. - - -There remains no descendant of Machiavelli. His grandson, by his only -daughter. Giuliano Ricci, left several writings relative to his -illustrious ancestor, which are preserved in the archives of the Ricci -family. The branch of the Machiavelli, descending from the secretary, -terminated in Ippolita Machiavelli, married to Francesco de' Ricci in -1608. The other branch terminated in Francesco Maria, Marchese di Quinto -in the Vicentino, who died in Florence, 1726. - - -[Footnote 111: Baldelli.] - -[Footnote 112: Let. Fam. II.] - -[Footnote 113: Guicciardini.] - -[Footnote 114: Guicciardini.] - -[Footnote 115: Guicciardini.] - -[Footnote 116: Lettere di Machiavelli, Legazione al Duca Valentino.] - -[Footnote 117: It must be mentioned, that a great enmity subsisted -between the Florentines and Vitellozzo Vitelli. His brother, Paolo -Vitelli, had commanded the troops of the republic at one time before -Pisa, and was suspected by them of treachery. They sent for him one -night to come to Florence, and he obeyed without hesitation. On his -arrival he was seized, cast into prison, tortured, and, though no -confession could be extorted from him, he was put to death the same -night. It was the intention of the Florentine government to seize on -Vitellozzo also, but he escaped and took refuge in Pisa. Borgia had at -one time taken up the cause of the Medici, and threatened Florence: he -now threw the blame of this action upon the counsels of Vitellozzo.] - -[Footnote 118: This letter is lost; and we are thus deprived of a most -interesting link in the correspondence, and an insight into -Machiavelli's feelings. In it he detailed the half confidence that -Borgia at last reposed in him--when, at the moment of execution, there -was no longer any necessity for concealing his intentions.] - -[Footnote 119: Half an hour before sunset: in December, about half after -three o'clock.] - -[Footnote 120: "Account of the Mode in which the Valentian Duke -destroyed Vitellozzo Vitelli, Paolo Orsino, &c. &c."] - -[Footnote 121: Two hours and a half after sunset. The Italian day of -twenty-four hours ends at dark, _i. e._ half an hour after sunset; and -then they begin one, two; but as they often say, one o'clock after noon, -two o'clock alter noon, so they designate these evening hours as hours -of night. This method of counting time is still practised by the common -people in Italy, south of the Apennines; and, indeed, by every one of -all ranks at Naples and Rome. Our mode of counting time is called by the -Italians, French time, as it was first introduced after the conquests of -Napoleon. It is often puzzling to hear of fourteen or fifteen -o'clock,--it is necessary to remember the season of the year, and the -hour of sunset, and how far that is off. On this occasion, the 31st of -December, the second hour of night was about half after six o'clock -P. M.; the sun setting at about four in December, in Italy.] - -[Footnote 122: Guicciardini.] - -[Footnote 123: There is something in the entrance of these "two -murderers," and their secret conference with the pope, that reminds one -of scenes in Shakspeare, which appear improbable in our days of ceremony -and exclusion.] - -[Footnote 124: Guicciardini.] - -[Footnote 125: One of Louis's expressions is curious:--"If the pope will -make any demonstration of friendship to me, though no bigger than the -black of my nail, I will respond by a yard." The black of the nail of -the king of France!] - -[Footnote 126: Lettere Familiari, VIII.] - -[Footnote 127: Machiavelli's bird-catching need not excite surprise. It -is the common pastime of Italian nobles of the present day, to go out -with an owl for a decoy, to shoot larks, thrushes, &c.] - -[Footnote 128: Critics have given themselves the trouble to imagine and -explain a mysterious meaning here, and to suppose that Machiavelli's -wood is an allegory of the political labyrinth: but there is no -foundation for this idea. Machiavelli never recurred to allegory to -express his political opinions; and we have twenty letters of his to -Vettori, discussing the intentions and enterprises of the various -European princes, without any attempt at mystery or covert allusion. At -the same time we have also twenty letters full of anecdotes as -insignificant as those of the wood. He was fond of minute details, and -lively, though trifling, stories concerning himself and his friends.] - -[Footnote 129: When Leo X. formed a duchy, of which he made his nephew -Lorenzo duke, Machiavelli, in a private letter to Vettori, discusses the -government that he ought to adopt. In this letter he again adduces the -example of Cæsar Borgia, saying, that were he a new prince, he would -imitate all his proceedings. This of course only alludes to the civil -government of Romagna, which was equitable and popular.] - -[Footnote 130: He had before recommended these pills to Guicciardini, -saying that he himself never took more than two at a time. They are -chiefly composed of aloes. There is a letter from his son Pietro to -Francesco Nelli, professor at Pisa, which relates concisely the manner -of his death:-- - -"Dearest Francesco,--I cannot refrain from tears on being obliged to -inform you of the death of our father Niccolò, which took place on the -22d of this month, of colic, produced by a medicine which he took on the -20th. He allowed himself to be confessed by Frate Matteo, who remained -with him till his death. Our father has left us in the greatest poverty, -as you know. When you return here, I will tell you many things by word -of mouth. I am in haste, and will say no more than farewell. - -"Your relation, - -"PIETRO MACHIAVELLI."] - - - - -END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EMINENT LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN -OF ITALY, SPAIN, AND PORTUGAL VOL. 1 (OF 3) *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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text-indent: -3em;} - -/* Transcriber's notes */ -.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - </style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Eminent literary and scientific men of Italy, Spain, and Portugal Vol. 1 (of 3), by James Montgomery</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Eminent literary and scientific men of Italy, Spain, and Portugal Vol. 1 (of 3)</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: James Montgomery and Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Editor: Dionysius Lardner</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: April 08, 2021 [eBook #65030]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Laura Natal Rodrigues at Free Literature (Images generously made available by The Internet Archive.)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EMINENT LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN OF ITALY, SPAIN, AND PORTUGAL VOL. 1 (OF 3) ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/eminent01_italy_cover.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<h4>THE</h4> - -<h2>CABINET CYCLOPÆDIA.</h2> - - - -<h5>CONDUCTED BY THE</h5> - -<h4>REV. DIONYSIUS LARDNER, LL.D. F.R.S. L. & E.</h4> - -<h5>M.R.I.A. F.R.A.S. F.L.S. F.Z.S. Hon. F.C.P.S. &c. &c.</h5> - - - -<h5>ASSISTED BY</h5> - -<h3>EMINENT LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.</h3> - - - - - -<h3>EMINENT<br /> -LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN<br /> -OF ITALY, SPAIN AND PORTUGAL.</h3> - - - -<h4>VOL. I.</h4> - - - -<h5>LONDON:<br /> - -PRINTED FOR<br /> - -LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, & LONGMAN,<br /> - -PATERNOSTER-ROW;<br /> - -AND JOHN TAYLOR,<br /> - -UPPER GOWER STREET.</h5> - -<h5>1835.</h5> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> -<img src="images/figure01.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><br /></p> - - -<h4>CONTENTS</h4> -<p><a href="#DANTE">DANTE</a><br /> -<a href="#PETRARCH">PETRARCH</a><br /> -<a href="#BOCCACCIO">BOCCACCIO</a><br /> -<a href="#LORENZO_DE_MEDICI">LORENZO DE' MEDICI, &c.</a><br /> -<a href="#BOJARDO">BOJARDO</a><br /> -<a href="#BERNI">BERNI</a><br /> -<a href="#ARIOSTO">ARIOSTO</a><br /> -<a href="#MACHIAVELLI">MACHIAVELLI</a></p> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<h4>LIVES<br /> -<br /> -OF<br /> -<br /> -EMINENT<br /> -<br /> -LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN.</h4> - -<hr class="r5" /> - -<p><br /></p> - - -<h4><a id="DANTE">DANTE ALIGHIERI</a></h4> - -<h4>ITALY. 1265-1321.</h4> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i16">——"'Tis the doom</span><br /> -<span class="i10">Of spirits of my order to be rack'd</span><br /> -<span class="i10">In life; to wear their hearts out, and consume</span><br /> -<span class="i10">Their days in endless strife, and die alone:</span><br /> -<span class="i10">—Then future thousands crowd around their tomb,</span><br /> -<span class="i10">And pilgrims come from climes where they have known</span><br /> -<span class="i10">The name of Him,—who now is but a name;</span><br /> -<span class="i10">And wasting homage o'er the sullen stone,</span><br /> -<span class="i10">Spread his, by him unheard, unheeded, fame."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20">LORD BYRON's <i>Prophecy of Dante</i>, Canto I.</span> -</div></div></div> - -<p> -Among the illustrious fathers of song who, in their own land, cannot -cease to exercise dominion over the minds, characters, and destinies of -all posterity,—and who, beyond its frontiers, must continue to -influence the taste, and help to form the genius, of those who shall -exercise like authority in other countries,—Dante Alighieri is, -undoubtedly, one of the most remarkable. -</p> - -<p> -This poet was descended from a very ancient stock, which, according to -Boccaccio, traced its lineage to the Roman house of Frangipani,—one -of whose members, surnamed Eliseo, was said to have been an early settler, -if not a principal founder, of the restored city of Florence, in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">{Pg 1}</a></span> -reign of Charlemagne, after it had lain desolate for several centuries, -subsequently to its destruction by Attila the Hun. From this Eliseo -sprang a family, of which Dante gives, in the fifteenth and sixteenth -cantos of his "Paradiso," such information, as he thought proper; making -Cacciaguida (one of its most distinguished chiefs, who fell fighting in -the crusade under the emperor Conrad III.,) say, rather ambiguously, of -those who went before him, that "who they were, and whence they came, it -is more honest to keep silence than to tell,"—probably, however, -intending no more than to disclaim vain boasting, but not by any means -to disparage his progenitors, for whom, in the fifteenth canto of the -"Inferno," he seems to claim the glory of having been of Roman descent, -and fathers of Florence. Cacciaguida, having married a noble lady of -Ferrara, gave to one of his sons by her the name of Aldighieri -(afterwards softened to Alighieri), in honour of his consort. This -Alighieri was the grandfather of Dante; and concerning him, Cacciaguida, -in the last-mentioned canto, informs the poet, that, for some unnamed -offence, his spirit has been more than a hundred years pacing round the -first circle of the mountain of purgatory; adding,— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Ben si convien, che la lunga fatica</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Tu gli raccorci con l' opere tue."</span> -</div></div> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"And well it would be, were his long fatigue</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Shorten'd by thy good deeds."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Dante was born in the spring of the year 1265. Benvenuta da Immola calls -his father a lawyer; but little more is recorded of him except that he -was twice married, and left two sons and a daughter, at an early age, to -the guardianship of relatives. Dante (abridged from Durante) was born of -Bella, his father's second wife, of whom, during her pregnancy, -Boccaccio relates a very significant dream,—on what authority he does -not say, and with what truth the reader may judge for himself. She -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">{Pg 2}</a></span> -imagined herself sitting under the shade of a lofty laurel, in the midst -of a green meadow, by the side of a brilliant fountain. Here she was -delivered of a boy, who, in as little time as might easily happen in a -dream, grew up into a man before her eyes, by feeding upon the berries -that fell from the tree, and drinking of the pure stream which watered -its roots. Presently he had become a shepherd; but, climbing too eagerly -up the stem to gather some leaves from the laurel, with the fruit of -which he had been hitherto nourished, he fell headlong to the ground, -and on rising appeared no longer a man, but a magnificent peacock. It -would be aggravating the offence of wasting time by quoting such a -fable, were we to give the obvious interpretation. This, however, the -great Boccaccio has done with most magniloquent gravity,—a task for -which, of all men, he was no doubt the most competent, as it is probable -that no soul living (the lady herself not excepted) besides himself was -in the secret either of the vision or the moral. One point of the -latter, which could not easily be guessed, may be mentioned; namely, -that the spots on the peacock's tail (the hundred eyes of Argus) -foreshowed the hundred cantos of the "Divina Commedia." The ingenious -author of the Decameron may have borrowed the idea of this dream from -Dante's own allusion to the laurel and its leaves,—the meed of poets -and of princes,—in his preposterous invocation of Apollo at the -commencement of the "Paradiso." -</p> - -<p> -Dante himself never alludes to this notable omen, though often -referring, with conscious pride, to his genius, and the circumstances by -which it had been awakened and exercised. This he attributed to the -benign influence of the constellation Gemini, which ruled at his -nativity. In the "Paradiso," Canto XXII., mentioning his flight from the -planetary system to the eighth sphere, where the fixed stars have their -dwelling, he exclaims,— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"O Reader! as I hope once more to reach</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That realm of holy triumph<a name="NoteRef_1_1" id="NoteRef_1_1"></a><a href="#Note_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>, for whose sake</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">{Pg 3}</a></span> -<span class="i2">I oft lament my sins and smite my breast,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Thou could'st not, in so brief a space, through fire</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Have pass'd and pluck'd thy finger, as I saw</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And was within the sign that follows Taurus.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">O glorious stars! light full of highest virtue!</span><br /> -<span class="i2">From whence, whate'er it be, my genius sprang,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With you arose, and set the Sire of life<a name="NoteRef_2_1" id="NoteRef_2_1"></a><a href="#Note_2_1" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">When first I breathed the Tuscan air. With you</span><br /> -<span class="i2">My lot was cast, when grace was given to mount</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The lofty wheel which guides your revolutions.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To you, devoutly, my whole soul aspires</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To gather courage for the bold adventure</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That draws me onward tow'rds itself."<a name="NoteRef_3_1" id="NoteRef_3_1"></a><a href="#Note_3_1" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Brunetto Latini (his tutor afterwards) is reported to have foretold the -boy's illustrious destiny, on due consultation with the heavenly bodies -that presided at his birth. Yet, superstitious as Dante appears to have -been in this respect, in the twentieth canto of the "Inferno" he -punishes astrologers, and those who presume to predict events, by -twisting their heads over their shoulders, and making those for ever -look backward who, too daringly, had looked forward into inscrutable -futurity. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">{Pg 4}</a></span> -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"People I saw within that nether glen,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Silent, and weeping as they went, with slow</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Pace, like the chaunters of our litanies.<a name="NoteRef_4_1" id="NoteRef_4_1"></a><a href="#Note_4_1" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></span><br /> -<span class="i2">As I gazed down on them, the chin of each</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Seem'd marvellously perverted from the chest,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And from the reins the visage turn'd behind:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Wherefore, since none could look before him, all</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Must needs walk backward;—so it may have chanced</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To some one palsy-stricken, to be wrench'd</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Thus all awry; but I have never seen</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Aught like it, nor believe the like hath happened.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Reader,—so help thee Heaven to gather fruit</span><br /> -<span class="i2">From this strange lesson!—think within thyself</span><br /> -<span class="i2">If I could keep my countenance unwet</span><br /> -<span class="i2">When I beheld our image so transposed,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That the eyes wept their tears between the shoulders."<a name="NoteRef_5_1" id="NoteRef_5_1"></a><a href="#Note_5_1" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Though early deprived of his father by death, Dante appears to have been -well attended to by his relatives and guardians, who placed him for -education under Brunetto Latini and other eminent tutors. He was by them -instructed not only in polite letters, but in those liberal -accomplishments which became his rank and prospects in life. In these he -excelled; yet, while he delighted in horsemanship, falconry, and all the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">{Pg 5}</a></span> -manly as well as military exercises practised by persons of distinction -in those days, he was, at the same time, so diligent a scholar, that he -readily made himself master of all the crude learning then in vogue. It -is stated by Pelli that, while yet a boy, he entered upon his noviciate -at a convent of the Minor Friars. But his mind was too active and -enterprising to enslave itself to dulness in any form; and he withdrew -before the term of probation was ended. -</p> - -<p> -According to Boccaccio, before he could be either student, sportsman, -soldier, or monk, he became a lover; and a lover thenceforward to the -end of his life he appears to have remained, with a passion so pure and -unearthly, that it has been gravely questioned whether his mistress were -a real or an imaginary being. The former, however, happening to be quite -as probable as the latter, all true youths and maidens will naturally -choose to believe that which is most pleasant, and give the credence of -the heart to every eulogium which the poet, throughout his works, has -lavished upon his Beatrice, whatever greybeards may think of the -following story:—One fine May-day, when, according to the custom of -the country, parties of both sexes used to meet in family circles, and, -under the roofs of common friends, rejoice on the return of the genial -season, Folco Portinari, a Florentine of no mean parentage, had invited -a great number of neighbours to partake of his hospitality. As it was -common on such occasions for children to accompany their relatives, -Dante Alighieri, then in his ninth year, had the good fortune to be -present; where, mingling with many other young folks, in their afternoon -sports, he singled out, with the second sight of the future poet, that -one whom his verse was destined to eternise. The little lady, a year -younger than himself, was <i>Bicè</i> (the familiar abbreviation of -<i>Beatricè</i>), daughter of the gentleman at whose house the festivities -were held. She need not be pictured here; for premature as such a fit -must have been, every one who remembers a first love, at any age, will -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">{Pg 6}</a></span> -know how she looked, how she spoke, how she stepped, and how her hero -felt,—growing at every instant greater and better, and braver in his -own esteem, that he might become worthy of hers:—suffice it to say, -from Boccaccio, that Dante, though but a boy, received her beautiful -image into his heart with such fondness of affection, that, from that -day, it never departed thence. -</p> - -<p> -In his "Vita Nuova" (a romantic and sentimental retrospect of his -youth), he has himself described his raptures and his agonies in the -commencement and progress of this passion; which was not extinguished, -but refined; not buried with her body, but translated with its object, -(her soul,) when Beatrice died, in 1290, at the age of twenty-four -years. Judging from the general tenor of his poetry, of which his -mistress was at once the inspirer and the theme, it must be presumed -that the lady returned his noble attachment with corresponding -tenderness and delicacy; though why they were not united by marriage has -never been told. He intimates, indeed, that it was long before he could -learn, by any token from herself, that his faithful passion was not -hopeless. As usual in cases of this kind, a most unpoetical accident has -been ill-naturedly interposed, by truth or tradition, to spoil a charm -almost too exquisite to be more than a charm which the breath of five -words might break. On the evidence of a marriage certificate, which Time -unluckily dropped in his flight, and some poring antiquary picked up a -century or two afterwards, it seems as though Beatrice became the wife -of a cavalier de Bardi. Dante himself, however (who pretends to no -bosom-secrets too dark to be uttered), never alludes to such a blight of -his prospects on this side of that threefold world which he was -afterwards privileged to explore, at her spontaneous intercession, that -he might be purged from every baser flame than entire affection to -herself, while she gave him in the eighth heaven a heart divided only -with her God. After her decease, he intimates that he was tempted to -infidelity to her memory (in which she was the bride of his soul), by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">{Pg 7}</a></span> -the appearance at a window of a lady who so much resembled his "late -deceased saint," that he almost forgot <i>her</i> in retracing her own -loveliness in the features of this new apparition. His tears flowed -freely at the sight; and he felt comforted by the sympathy of the -beautiful stranger in his sufferings. But when, after a little while, he -found love to the living symbol growing up like a serpent among the -flowers, he fled in terror from it, before the gaze which had gained -such power over his senses had irrevocably fascinated him to -destruction; and he bewailed, in the most humiliating terms, the frailty -of his heart and the wandering of his eyes. It is, moreover, the glory -of his great work that the posthumous affection of Beatrice herself is -represented as having so troubled her spirit, that, even amidst the -blessedness of Paradise, she devised means whereby her lover might be -reclaimed from the irregularities into which he had fallen after her -restraining presence had been withdrawn from him on earth, and that he -might be prepared, by visions of the eternal world, for future and -everlasting companionship with her in heaven. -</p> - -<p> -Dante, as he grew up to manhood, and for several years afterwards, -continued successfully to pursue his studies in the universities of -Padua, Bologna, and Paris. In the latter city he is said to have held -various theological disputations, alike creditable to his learning, -eloquence, and acuteness; though, from the failure of pecuniary means, -he could not remain long enough there to obtain academical honours. On -the authority of Giovanni da Serraville, bishop of Fermo, it has been -believed that he also visited Oxford, where, as elsewhere, his different -exercises gained him,—according to the respective tastes of his -admirers,—from some the praise of being a great philosopher, from -others a great divine, and, from the rest, a great poet. Serraville, at -the request of cardinal Saluzzo and two English bishops, (Nicholas -Bubwith, of Bath, and Robert Halam, of Salisbury,) whom he met at the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">{Pg 8}</a></span> -council of Constance, translated Dante's "Divina Commedia" into Latin -prose; of which one manuscript copy only, with a commentary annexed, is -known to be in existence, in the Vatican library. The extraordinary -interest which the two English prelates took in Dante's poem may be -regarded as indirect, though of course very indecisive, evidence of his -having been personally known at our famous university, and having been -honourably remembered there. It is, however, certain that, soon after -his decease, the "Divina Commedia" was in high repute among the few in -this country who, during the reigns of Edward III. and Richard II., in a -chivalrous age, cultivated polite letters. This is apparent from the -numerous imitations of passages in it by Chaucer, who was then -attempting to do for England what his magnificent prototype had recently -done for Italy. -</p> - -<p> -Uncertain as the traditions concerning this portion of Dante's life (and -indeed of every other) may be, there is no doubt that he became early -and intimately acquainted with the reliques of all the Roman writers -then known in Italy. Among these, Virgil, Ovid, and Statius were his -favourites, and naturally so, as excelling (each according to his -peculiar genius) in marvellous and beautiful narrative, to which their -youthful admirer's own sublime and daring genius intuitively led him. At -the same time, he not less courageously and patiently groped his way -through the labyrinths of school divinity, and the dark caverns of what -was then deemed philosophy, under the bewildering guidance of Duns -Scotus and Thomas Aquinas. Full proof of the improvement which he made, -both under classical and polemical tutors and prototypes, may be traced -in all his compositions, prose as well as verse, from the earliest to -the last: yet, that which was his own, it must be acknowledged, is ever -the best; and if, in addition to a large proportion of this, there had -not been a savour of originality communicated to every thing which he -borrowed or had been taught, his works must have perished with those of -his contemporaries, who are now either nameless, or survive only as -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">{Pg 9}</a></span> -names in the titles of unread and unreadable volumes. -</p> - -<p> -During this season of seed time for the mind, we are told that, -notwithstanding his indefatigable labours in the acquirement and -cultivation of knowledge, he appeared so cheerful, frank, and generous -in deportment and disposition, that nobody would have imagined him to be -such a devotee to literature in the stillness of the closet, or the open -field of college exercises. On the contrary, he passed in public for a -gallant and highbred man of the world; following its customs and -fashions, so far as might be deemed consistent in a person of honour, -and independence,—qualities on which he sufficiently prided himself; -for which, also, in after life, he dearly paid the price,—and paid -it, like Aristides, by banishment. -</p> - -<p> -But Beatrice dying in 1290<a name="NoteRef_6_1" id="NoteRef_6_1"></a><a href="#Note_6_1" class="fnanchor">[6]</a>, her lover is reported to have fallen into -such a state of despondency, that his friends, fearing the most -frightful effects upon his reason not less than upon his health, -persuaded him, as a last resource, to marry. Accordingly he took to wife -Madonna Gemma, of the house of Donati; one of the most powerful families -of Tuscany, and unhappily one of the most turbulent where few could be -called pacific. By her he had five sons and a daughter. Her husband's -biographers (with few exceptions) have conspired to darken this lady's -memory with the stigma of being an insufferable shrew, who rendered his -life a martyrdom by domestic discomforts. Aline in the "Inferno," Canto -XVI., in which one of the lost spirits, Jacopo Rusticci, says, -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"La fiera moglie, più ch' altro, mi nuoce,"</span> -</div></div> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"More than aught else, my furious wife annoys me,"—</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -has often been quoted as referring, with indirect bitterness, to his own -miserable union with a firebrand of a woman: yet, in no passage -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">{Pg 10}</a></span> -throughout the whole of his long poem, does Dante cast the slightest -shade upon her character; though, with the frankness of honest censure -or undisguised resentment, he spares nobody else, friend or foe, in the -distribution of what he deemed impartial justice. One thing is -exceedingly in favour of his own amiable and affectionate nature, in the -nearest connections of life: whenever he mentions children in his -similes (and he mentions them often), it is always with exquisite -delicacy or endearing playfulness; while, in the tenderest tones, he -descants on their beauty, their innocence, their sports, and their -sufferings. Mothers, too, are among the loveliest objects which he -presents in those sweet interludes of real life which he delights to -bring in, and does so with consummate address, to relieve the horrors of -the infernal pit, the wearying pains of purgatory, and the insufferable -glories of Paradise. Concerning Dante's wife it may therefore be fairly -presumed, that she was less of either termagant or tormentor than has -been generally imagined by his over-zealous editors. The petulance of -Boccaccio and the gravity of Aretino (two of his earliest biographers) -on this subject are ludicrously contrasted. The former affects to be -quite shocked at the idea of the sublime and contemplative poet being -forced to lead the dull household life of other men, and submit to -certain petty annoyances of daily occurrence.—On these he expatiates -most pathetically, as things which <i>might have been</i>, though he fairly -acknowledges that he does not know that any of them <i>were</i>, the causes -of long unhappiness and final separation between the parties. Aretino, -on the other hand, in sober sadness (without any reference to the ill -qualities of either), justifies Dante for condescending to be married, -on the ground that many illustrious philosophers, including Socrates, -the greatest of all, were husbands and fathers, and held offices of -state, in perfect compatibility with their intellectual pursuits! -</p> - -<p> -It should not be overlooked, in mitigation of her occasional asperities, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">{Pg 11}</a></span> -that, Madonna Gemma being the near kinswoman of Corso Donati, Dante's -most formidable and inveterate rival in the party feuds of Florence, -some drops of the gall of political rancour may have been infused into -the matrimonial cup. The poet's known and avowed passion for Beatrice, -living and dead, was alone sufficient to afflict a high-minded woman -with the rankling consciousness that she had not all her husband's heart. -It is, moreover, no small proof of her submission to his will and pleasure, -that their only daughter bore the name of his first—last—only -love, if we are to believe all the protestations of his verse. -Be these things as they may, it must be concluded that he was -coupled with a most unpoetical yoke-mate; and she with a lord and master -not easy to be ruled by her or any body else. It has been loosely stated -that "the poet, not possessing the patience of Socrates, separated -himself from his wife, with such vehement expressions of dislike that he -never afterwards allowed her to sit down in his presence." When this -happened—if it ever so happened—does not appear; nothing -further seems certain, except that she did not follow her husband into -exile: but Boccaccio himself acknowledges, that after that event, having -secured (not without difficulty) a small portion of his effects from -confiscation as her dower, she preserved herself and their little -children from the wretchedness of absolute poverty, by such expedients -of industry and economy as she had never before been accustomed to -practise. -</p> - -<p> -It has been already intimated, that, though in all the logomachies of -the schools Dante was an eager and skilful disputant, yet he was left -behind by none of his contemporaries in those personal accomplishments -which became his station. In the mean while he cultivated with -constitutional ardour and diligence those higher qualifications, which, -in the sequel, enabled him to serve his country as a citizen, a soldier, -and a magistrate, under circumstances that called forth all his talents, -valour, firmness, wisdom, and discretion; though, judging from the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">{Pg 12}</a></span> -issue, the latter failed him oftener than the former. Eloquent, brave, -and resolute he always was; but not always wise and discreet. This, -indeed, might be presumed; for in the pursuit of distinction,—instead -of attaching himself to the selfish and mercenary professions which -oftenest lead to wealth, power, and family aggrandisement,—he -preferred those generous studies which most exalt, enrich, and adorn the -mind, but yet, while they gratify the taste of their votary, rather advance -him in moral and intellectual eminence than to temporal and substantial -prosperity. These, therefore, were exercises calculated to awaken and -display the energies and resources of a temper formed to conceive, -attempt, and achieve great things, so far—and perhaps so far -only—as depended on his individual exertions. In the solitary case -wherein he had official authority to direct difficult public affairs he -failed so irrecoverably, that, during the residue of his life, he was more -a sufferer than an actor in the troubles of those hideous times. -</p> - -<p> -Italy, it must be observed, was still distracted with strife, in every -form that strife could assume, between the factions of the Guelfs and -Ghibellines;—the former, adherents of the pope; the latter, of the -emperor of Germany. These factions not only arrayed state against state, -but frequently divided people of the same province, the same city, and -the same family against one another, in the most violent and implacable -hostility,—hostility, violent in proportion as it was irrational, and -implacable in proportion as it was unnatural; being, in every instance, -and on both sides, contrary to the interests of their respective -communities. Lombardy, especially since the Cisalpine conquests of -Charlemagne, had never ceased to be a snare to his successors. The -popes, who at first had affected spiritual dominion only, after the -grant of territorial possessions, by that deed of Constantine to -Silvester, which, having disappeared from earth, may be found, according -to the veritable testimony of Ariosto, in the moon, the receptacle of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">{Pg 13}</a></span> -all lost things<a name="NoteRef_7_1" id="NoteRef_7_1"></a><a href="#Note_7_1" class="fnanchor">[7]</a>, gradually aspired to secular power. But all their -ambition and influence failed, in the end, to spread their secular -sovereignty beyond those provinces adjacent to Rome, which they yet -retain by courtesy of the catholic potentates of Europe. -</p> - -<p> -At the time of Dante's birth, the Guelf or papal party had recently -recovered their ascendancy at Florence, after having been expatriated -for several years, in consequence of their disastrous overthrow at the -battle of Monte Aperto. The poet was therefore educated in Guelfic -principles, and adhered to them till his banishment, when the perfidious -interference of the pope with the independence of his native city, and -the atrocious hostility of its citizens against himself and his friends, -compelled him to take part with the imperialists. -</p> - -<p> -The first public character in which we find the patriotic poet -distinguishing himself was that of a soldier. In one of the petty wars -that were perpetually occurring between the little irascible republics -in the north of Italy, the Florentines gained a decisive victory over -their neighbours of Arezzo (who had harboured the Ghibelline refugees), -at the battle of Campaldino, A. D. 1289. On this occasion, Dante, who -served among the cavalry, was not only exposed to imminent peril at the -commencement of the action, when that body was partially routed by the -impetuosity of the enemy's charge, but when the squadron had rallied -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">{Pg 14}</a></span> -again on reaching the lines of infantry, and thence returned to the -attack, he fought in the first rank, and displayed such extraordinary -valour, as to claim a proud share in the glory of that day. To this -conflict, and the particular service in which he had been engaged, he -seems to allude in Canto XXII. of the Inferno. Having mentioned the -signal given by Barbariccia (serjeant of a file of demons, appointed to -escort Dante and Virgil over a certain dangerous pass on their -journey,)—a signal too absurd to be repeated here, either in English -or Italian, he says:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"I have seen cavalry upon their march,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Hush to the combat, rally on the field,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And sometimes seek for safety in retreat:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I have seen jousts and tournaments array'd;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Seen clouds of skirmishers sweep through your fields,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ye Aretines! and spoilers, lay them waste;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Drum, cymbal, trumpet, beacon from tower-top,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And other strange or native things their signals;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But never, at the blast of instrument</span><br /> -<span class="i2">So barbarous have witness'd horse or foot,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Or ship, by star or landmark, put in motion:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">—With those ten demons thus we took our way;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Fell company! but, as the proverb saith,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">At church with saints, with gluttons in the tavern."<a name="NoteRef_8_1" id="NoteRef_8_1"></a><a href="#Note_8_1" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -In the following year Dante was again in the field, at the siege of -Caprona. To this he alludes in Canto XXI. of the Inferno, where, under -convoy of the aforementioned fiends, he compares his fears lest they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">{Pg 15}</a></span> -should break truce with him and his companion, to the apprehensions of -the garrison of that fortress when they marched out on condition of -being permitted to depart unmolested with their arms and property; but -were so terrified, on seeing the multitude and the rage of their -enemies, who cried, "Stop them! stop them! kill them! kill them!" as -they passed along, that they submitted to be sent in irons, as -prisoners, to Lucca, for safeguard. -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Wherefore I moved right on towards my guide,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The devils marshalling themselves before,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">For much I fear'd lest they should not keep faith:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">So saw I once Caprona's garrison</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Come trembling forth, upon capitulation,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To find themselves among so many foes.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I crouch'd with my whole frame beside my master,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nor could I turn mine eyes away from watching</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Their physiognomy, which was not good."<a name="NoteRef_9_1" id="NoteRef_9_1"></a><a href="#Note_9_1" class="fnanchor">[9]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -During this active period of his citizenship, Dante is stated to have -been frequently employed on important embassies; and, among others, to -the kings of Naples, Hungary, and France; in all of which his eloquence -and address enabled him to acquit himself with honour and advantage to -his country: but as there is no allusion in any of his works, even to -the most distinguished of these, it is very questionable whether the -traditions are not, in many cases, wholly unwarranted; and probably -founded upon misapprehension of the verbiage and bombast of Boccaccio, -in his account of the political, philosophical, and literary labours of -his hero. -</p> - -<p> -In the year 1300, Dante was chosen, by the suffrages of the people, -chief prior of his native city; and from that era of his arrival at the -highest honour to which his ambition could aspire, he himself dated all -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">{Pg 16}</a></span> -the miseries which (like the file of evil spirits above mentioned) -accompanied him thenceforward to the end of his life. In one of his -epistles, quoted by Aretino, he says,—"All my calamities had their -origin and occasion in my unhappy priorship, of which, though I might -not for my wisdom have been worthy, yet on the ground of age and -fidelity was I not unworthy; ten years having elapsed since the battle -of Campaldino, in which the Ghibelline party was routed and nearly -exterminated; wherein, also, I proved myself no novice in arms, but -experienced great perils in the various fortunes of the fight, and the -highest gratification in the issue of it." Since that triumph, the -Guelfs had maintained undisputed predominance in Tuscany; but the -citizens of Florence split into two minor factions as bitterly opposed -to each other as the Guelfs and Ghibellines. -</p> - -<p> -The following circumstance (considerably varied in particulars by -different narrators) has been mentioned as the origin of this -schism:—Two branches of the family of Cancellieri divided the -patronage of Pistoia, which was then subject to Florence, between them. The -heads of these were Gulielmo and Bertaccio. In playing at snow-balls, a son -of the first happened to give the son of the second a black eye. Gulielmo, -knowing the savage disposition of his kinsman, immediately sent his son -to offer submission for the unlucky hit. Bertaccio, eager to avail -himself of a pretext for quarrelling with the rival section of his -house, seized the boy, and chopped off the hand which flung the -snowball, drily observing, that blows could only be compensated by -blows—not with words. Another version of the story is, that the young -gentlemen, quarrelling over some game, drew their swords, when one -wounded the other in the face; in retribution for which, Foccacio, -brother to the latter, cut off his offending cousin's hand. The father -of the mutilated lad immediately called upon his friends to avenge the -inhuman outrage; Bertaccio's dependants not less promptly armed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">{Pg 17}</a></span> -themselves to maintain his cause; and a civil war was ready to break out -in the heart of the city. An ancestor of the Cancellieri family having -married a lady named <i>Bianchi</i>, in honour of her one of the parties -took the denomination of <i>Bianchi</i> (whites), when the other, in -defiance, assumed the reverse, and styled themselves <i>Neri</i> (blacks). -</p> - -<p> -This happened during the priorship of Dante, who, with the approbation -of his colleagues, summoned the leaders of the antagonist factions to -repair to Florence, to prevent that extremity of violence with which -they threatened not Pistoia only, but the whole commonwealth. This, as -Leonardo Bruni observes, was importing the plague to the capital, -instead of taking means to repress it upon the spot where it had already -appeared. For it so fell out, that Florence itself was principally under -the influence of two great families,—the Cerchi and the -Donati,—habitually jealous of one another, and each watching for -opportunity to obtain the ascendancy. When, therefore, the hostages for -preserving the peace of Pistoia arrived, the Bianchi were hospitably -entertained by the Cerchi, and the Neri by the Donati; the natural -consequence of which was, that the people of Florence were far more -annoyed by the acquisition, than those of the neighbouring city were -benefited by the riddance of so troublesome a crew. What these -incendiary spirits had been doing in a small place, on a small scale, -they forthwith began to do on a large scale, in a large place. -Jealousies, fears, and antipathies were easily awakened among the -families with which the partisans respectively associated. From these, -through every rank of citizens down to the lowest, the contagion spread; -first seizing the youth, who were sanguine and restless, but soon -infecting persons of all ages; till every man who had a mind or an arm -to influence or to act, enlisted himself with one side or the other. In -the course of a few months, from whisperings the discontents rose to -clamours, from words to blows, and from feuds in private dwellings to -battles in the streets; so that not the metropolis only, but the whole -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">{Pg 18}</a></span> -territory, became involved in unnatural contention. -</p> - -<p> -While this was in process, the heads of the Neri held a meeting by night -in the church of the Holy Trinity, at which a plan was suggested to -induce pope Boniface VIII. to constitute Charles of Valois, (who was -brother to Philip the Fair, king of France, and then commanded an army -under his holiness against the emperor,) mediator of differences and -reformer-general of abuses in the state. The Bianchi, having received -information of this clandestine assembly, and the unpatriotic project -which had been devised at it, took grievous umbrage, and went in a body, -with arms in their hands, to the chief prior, with whom they -remonstrated sharply upon what they deemed a privy conspiracy hatched -for the purpose of expelling themselves and their friends from the city; -at the same time demanding summary punishment on the offenders. The -Neri, alarmed in their turn, flew likewise to arms, and assailed the -prior with the same complaint and demand reversed,—namely, that their -adversaries had plotted to drive them (the Neri) into exile under false -pretences; and requiring that they (the Bianchi) should be sent into -banishment, to preserve the public tranquillity. -</p> - -<p> -The danger was imminent, and prompt decision to avert it indispensable. -The prior and magistrates, therefore, by the advice of Dante their -chief, who was the Cicero in this double conspiracy, though neither so -politic nor so fortunate as his eloquent archetype, appealed to the -people at large to support the executive government; and, having -conciliated their favour, banished the principal instigators of tumult -on both sides, including Corso Donati (Dante's wife's kinsman) of the -Neri party, who, with his accomplices, was confined in the castle of -Pieve in Perugia; while Guido Cavalcanti (Dante's own particular friend) -and others of the Bianchi faction were sent to Serrazana. -</p> - -<p> -This disturbance, and the severe remedy necessary to be adopted, -painfully tried the best feelings of Dante, who seems to have acted on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">{Pg 19}</a></span> -truly independent principles in the affair, though suspected at the time -of favouring the Bianchi. That, indeed, was probable; for though as -chief magistrate he knew no man by his colours, yet, being a genuine -Florentine,—and such he remained when Florence had banished and -proscribed him,—he could not but he opposed to so preposterous a -scheme as that of bringing in a stranger to lord it over his native city, -under pretence of assuaging the animosities of malecontents, who cared for -nothing but their own personal, family, or party aggrandisement, at the -expense of the common weal. -</p> - -<p> -This apparent impartiality was openly arraigned, when the Bianchi exiles -were permitted to come back after a short absence, while the Neri -remained under proscription. Dante vindicated himself by saying, that he -had attached himself to neither party; that in condemning the heads of -both he had acted solely for the public safety; and at home had used his -utmost endeavours to reconcile the adverse families, who had implicated -all their fellow-citizens in their feuds. With respect to the return of -the Bianchi, he denied that it had been allowed on his authority, his -priorate having expired before that event took place; and, moreover, -that their release had been rendered necessary by the premature death of -Guido Cavalcanti, who had been killed by the pestilent air of Serrazana. -The pope, however, eagerly availed himself of the opportunity as a plea -for sending Charles of Valois to Florence, to restore tranquillity by -conciliation. That prince accordingly entered the city in triumph at the -head of his troops, with a solemn assurance that liberty, property, and -personal safety should in no instance be violated. In consequence of -this he was well received by the people; but he had no sooner seated -himself in influence than he obtained the recall of the Neri, who were -his partisans. Then, having secured his authority by their presence, he -threw off the mask, and began to play the part of dictator within the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">{Pg 20}</a></span> -walls, as well as throughout the adjacent territory, by causing 600 of -the principal men of the Bianchi to be driven forth into exile. -</p> - -<p> -At the time of this expatriation of his friends, Dante was absent, -having undertaken an embassy to Rome to solicit the good offices of the -pope towards pacifying his fellow-citizens without foreign interference. -Boccaccio records a singular specimen at once of his self-confidence, -and his disparagement of others, which, if true, betrays the most -unamiable feature of his character, and throws additional light on a -circumstance not otherwise well accounted for,—why, with all his -admirable qualities, Dante was unhappy in domestic life, and in public life -made so many and such inveterate enemies.—When his associates in the -government proposed this embassy to him, he haughtily enquired,—"If -I go, who will stay? If I stay, who will go?" It was fortunate for the -poet that his holiness and himself, on this occasion, were unconsciously -playing at cross purposes, though he was beaten in the game,—the very -intervention which he had gone to deprecate taking place whilst he was -on the journey. Had he been at home, it is not improbable that death, -rather than banishment with the Bianchi, would have been his lot, from -the exasperation of the Neri against him individually, whom they -regarded as the chief agent in their disgrace and exile, as well as the -patron of their rivals. It is remarkable that the pretext on which the -failing party were now expelled was, that <i>they</i> had secretly -intrigued with Pietro Ferranti, the confidant of Charles of Valois, to give -him the castle of Prato, on condition that he prevailed upon his master to -allow them the ascendancy under him in Florence. Charles himself -countenanced the accusation, and affected high displeasure at the -insulting offer, as derogatory to his immaculate purity; though the -purport of it was no other than to concede to him the express object of -his ambition, if he would grant to the Bianchi faction what he did grant -to the perfidious Neri. A document was long preserved as the genuine -letter to Ferranti, with the seals and signatures of the principal -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">{Pg 21}</a></span> -Bianchi attached, containing the traitorous proposal; but Leonardo -Aretino, who had himself seen it in the public archives, declares his -perfect conviction that it was a forgery. -</p> - -<p> -Of participation in such baseness (had his partisans been really guilty -of it), Dante must stand clearly acquitted by every one who takes his -character from the matter-of-fact statements, perverted as they are, of -his adversaries themselves, much more from the unimpeachable evidence of -his own writings;—open, undaunted, high-spirited, and generous as a -friend, he was not less violent, acrimonious, and undisguisedly -vindictive as an enemy. So exasperated, however, were the Neri against -him, that they demolished his dwelling, confiscated his property, and -decreed a fine of 8000 lire against him, with banishment for two years; -not for any crime of which he had been convicted, but under pretence of -contumacy, because he did not appear to a citation which had been issued -when they knew him to be absent,—absent, it might be said, on their -own business (his mission to Rome), where he could not be aware of the -nature of his imputed offence till he heard of the condign punishment -with which it had been thus prematurely visited. In the course of a few -weeks a further inculpation of Dante and his associates was promulged, -under which they were condemned to perpetual exile, with the merciless -provision that, if any of them thereafter fell into the hands of their -persecutors, they should be burnt alive. And this execrable measure -seems to have been determined upon before the exiled party had made any -attempt, by force of arms, to reenter Florence. -</p> - -<p> -When Dante was informed at Rome of the revolution in Florence, he -hastened to Siena, where, learning the full extent of his misfortune, he -was driven, it may be said, by necessity to join himself to his homeless -countrymen in that neighbourhood, who were concerting (though with -little of mutual confidence, and miserably inadequate means) how they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">{Pg 22}</a></span> -might compel their fellow-citizens to receive them back. Arezzo, the -city of the Aretines (with whom Dante had combated at Campaldino), -afforded them an asylum, and became the headquarters of the Bianchi; who -thenceforward, from being, like the Neri, Guelfs, transferred their -affections, or rather their wrongs and their vengeance, to the -Ghibellines; deeming the adherents of the emperor less the enemies of -their country than their adversaries were. Their affairs were managed by -a council of twelve, of whom Dante was one. Great numbers of -malecontents from Bologna, Pistoia, and the adjacent provinces of -Northern Italy, gradually flocking to their standard,—in the course -of two years they were sufficiently strong to take the field with a force -of cavalry and foot exceeding 10,000, under count Alessandro da Romena, -and to commence active hostilities. By a bold and sudden march, they -attempted to surprise Florence itself, and were so far successful that -their advanced guard got possession of one of the gates; but the main -body being attacked and defeated on the outside of the walls, the former -gallant corps was overpowered by the garrison; and the enterprise -itself, after the campaign of a few days, was abandoned altogether. -Dante, according to general belief, accompanied this unfortunate -expedition; and so did Pietro Petracco, the father of the celebrated -Petrarca (Petrarch), who had been expelled with the Bianchi from -Florence; and it is stated, that on the very night on which the army of -the exiles marched against the city, Petracco's wife Eletta gave birth -to the poet who was to succeed Dante as the glory of his country's -literature. -</p> - -<p> -After this miscarriage Dante quitted the confederacy, disgusted by the -bickerings, jealousies, and bad faith of the heterogeneous and -unmanageable multitude, which, common calamities had driven together, -but could not cement by common interests. The poet refers to this motley -and discordant crew in the latter lines of the celebrated passage, in -which he represents his ancestor. Cacciaguida, as prophesying his future -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">{Pg 23}</a></span> -banishment with the miseries and mortifications which he should suffer -from the ingratitude of his countrymen:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"For thou must leave behind thee every thing</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Thine heart holds dearest.—This will be the first</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Shaft which the bow of exile shoots against thee:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And thou must prove how salt the bread that's eaten</span><br /> -<span class="i2">At others' tables, and how hard the path</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To climb and to go down a stranger's stairs:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But what shall weigh the heaviest on thy shoulders,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Will be the base and evil company</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With which thy lot hath cast thee in that valley;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">For every thankless, lawless, reckless wretch</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Shall turn against thee:—yet confusion, soon,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of face shall cover them, not thee, with blushes;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Their brutishness will be so manifest,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That to have stood alone will be thy glory."<a name="NoteRef_10_1" id="NoteRef_10_1"></a><a href="#Note_10_1" class="fnanchor">[10]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20"><i>Del Paradiso</i>, XVII.</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -To the personal humiliations of which he chewed the cud in hitter -secrecy, through years of heart-breaking dependence on the precarious -bounty of others, there is a striking but forced allusion at the close -of the eleventh canto of the "Purgatorio." Dante enquires concerning a -proud spirit bent double under a huge burden of stones, which he is -condemned to carry for as many years as he had lived, till he shall he -sufficiently humbled to pass muster through the flames into Paradise. -This is Provenzano Salvani, who for his acts of outrageous tyranny would -have been doomed to a much harder penance, but for one good deed.—A -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">{Pg 24}</a></span> -friend of his being kept prisoner by Charles of Anjou, and threatened -with death unless a ransom of 10,000 golden florins were paid for his -freedom, Salvani so far degraded himself as to stand (to kneel, say -some,) in the public market-place of Siena, with a carpet spread on the -ground before him, imploring, with the cries and importunity of a common -beggar, the charitable contributions of every passenger towards raising -the required sum. This he accomplished, and his friend was saved. -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"'He in his height of glory,' said the other,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Casting aside all shame, spontaneously,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Stood in the market of Siena, begging;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">He, to redeem his friend from infamy</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And death, in Charles's dungeons, did what made him</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Tremble through every vein.—No more; my speech</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Is dark; thy countrymen, ere long, will do</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That which will help thee to interpret it."<a name="NoteRef_11_1" id="NoteRef_11_1"></a><a href="#Note_11_1" class="fnanchor">[11]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -In despair of being able to force his way, sword in hand, back to -Florence, Dante next endeavoured, by supplicating the good offices of -individuals connected with the government, by expostulatory addresses to -the people, and even by appeals to foreign princes, to obtain a reversal -of his unrighteous sentence. Disappointment, however, followed upon -disappointment, till, hope deferred having made the heart sick, he grew -so impatient under the sense of wrong and ignominy, that he again had -recourse to the summary but perilous redress of violence;—not indeed -by force which <i>he</i> could command, though one in a million for energy, -courage, and perseverance; but a powerful auxiliary having appeared in -1308, he gave up his whole soul to the main object of his desire at this -time,—the chastisement of his inexorable fellow-citizens. Henry of -Luxembourg, having been raised to the throne of Germany, eagerly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">{Pg 25}</a></span> -engaged, like his predecessors, in the delusive contest for the "Iron -crown" of Italy, though "Luke's iron crown"<a name="NoteRef_12_1" id="NoteRef_12_1"></a><a href="#Note_12_1" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> (placed red hot on the -brow of an unsuccessful aspirant to that of Hungary) was hardly more -painful or more certainly fatal than this, except that it was far more -expeditious in putting the wearer out of torture. Dante now rose from -the dust of self-abasement, openly professed himself a Ghibelline, and -changed his tones of supplication into those of menace against his -refractory countrymen. Henry himself denounced terrible retribution upon -the Guelfs, and at the head of an army invaded the Florentine territory; -from which, however, he was compelled to make an early retreat; and the -magnificent flourish of drums and trumpets, with which the imperial -actor entered, was followed by a dead march, that closed the scene -before he had turned round upon the stage—except to hurry away. He -died in 1313, poisoned, it was reported, by a consecrated wafer. To this -prince Dante dedicated his political treatise, in Latin, "De Monarchia," -in which he eloquently asserts the rights of the emperor in Italy -against the usurpations of the pope. He has been accused of exciting -Henry to abandon the siege of Brescia, and undertake that of Florence; -though, from regard to his native land, he himself forebore to accompany -the expedition. He had affected no such scruple when the Bianchi, like -trodden worms, turned upon the parent foot which spurned them from the -soil where they were bred. There must, therefore, have been some other -motive than patriotism,—nobody will suspect that it was -cowardice,—which restrained him from witnessing the expected -humiliation of his persecutors. -</p> - -<p> -Several of his biographers state, that after this consummation of his -ruin,—a third decree having been passed against him at -Florence,—the poet retired into France, and strove to reconcile his -unsubdued spirit to his fate, or to forget both it and himself in those -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">{Pg 26}</a></span> -fashionable theological controversies, for which he was, perhaps, better -qualified than either for the council-chamber or the battle-field. This, -however, is doubtful, and, in fact, very improbable, when we recollect -that, next to the malice of the Neri, he was indebted for his misfortunes -to Charles of Valois, their patron, who was brother to Philip the Fair, -king of France. Be this as it may, the remainder of Dante's life was -spent in wandering from one petty court to another, in exile and -poverty, accepting the means of subsistence, almost as alms, from -lukewarm friends, from hospitable strangers, and even from generous -adversaries. Hence we trace him, at uncertain periods, through Lombardy, -Tuscany, and Romagna, as an admitted, welcomed, admired, or merely a -tolerated guest, according to the liberality or caprice of his patrons -for the time being. Little more can be recorded of these "evil days" and -"years," of which he was compelled to say, "I have no pleasure in them," -than a few questionable anecdotes of his caustic humour, and the names -of some of those who showed him kindness in his affliction. -</p> - -<p> -Among the latter may be honourably mentioned Busone da Gubbio, who first -afforded him shelter at Arezzo, whither he himself had been banished -from Florence as an incorrigible Ghibelline; but being a brother poet, -he was too noble to let political prejudice (Dante was at that time a -Guelf) interfere either with his compassion towards an illustrious -fugitive, or his veneration for those rare talents which ought every -where to have raised the unhappy possessor above contempt, though, in -some instances, they seem to have exposed him to it. Yet he knew well -how to resent indignity. While residing at Verona with Can' Grande de la -Scala (one of his most distinguished protectors), it happened one day, -according to the rude usages of those times, that the prince's jester, -or some casual buffoon about the palace, was introduced at table, to -divert the high-born company there with his waggeries. In this the arch -fellow succeeded so egregiously, that Dante, from scorn or -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">{Pg 27}</a></span> -mortification, showed signs of chagrin, whereupon Can'Grande -sarcastically asked,—"How comes it, Dante, that you, with all your -learning and genius, cannot delight me and my friends half so much as this -fool does with his ribaldry and grimaces?"—"Because <i>like loves -like</i>," was the pithy retort of the poet, in the phrase of the proverb. -Another story of the kind is told by Cinthio Geraldi.—On occasion of -a jovial entertainment, Can' Grande, or his jester, had placed a little -boy under the table, to gather all the bones that were thrown down upon -the floor by the guests, and lay them about the feet of Dante. After -dinner these were unexpectedly shown above board, as tokens of his -feasting prowess. "You have done great things to day!" exclaimed the -prince, affecting surprise at such an exhibition. "Far otherwise," -returned the poet; "for if I had been a dog, (<i>Cane</i>, his patron's -name,) I should have devoured bones and all, as it appears you have -done."<a name="NoteRef_13_1" id="NoteRef_13_1"></a><a href="#Note_13_1" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> -</p> - -<p> -Other grandees, who gave the indignant wanderer an occasional asylum -from the blasts of persecution, were the marchese Malespina, who, though -belonging to the antagonist party, cordially entertained him in -Lunigiana; the conte Guido Salvatico, of Cassentino; the signori della -Faggiuolo, among the mountains of Urbino; and also the fathers of the -monastery of Santa Croce di Fonte Avellana, in the district of Gubbio. -In this romantic retreat, according to the Latin inscription under a -marble bust of him against a wall in one of the chambers, Dante is -recorded to have written a considerable portion of the "Divina -Commedia." In a tower belonging to the conti Falucci, in the same -territory, there is a tradition that he was often employed in the like -manner. At the castle of Tulmino, the residence of the patriarch of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">{Pg 28}</a></span> -Aquileia, a rock has been pointed out as a favourite resort of the -inspired poet, while engaged in that marvellous and melancholy -composition. -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"There, nobly pensive, <i>Dante</i> sat and thought."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Marius, banished from his country, and resting upon the ruins of -Carthage, may have appeared a more august and mournful object; but -Dante, in exile, want, and degradation, on a lonely crag, meditating -thoughts, combining images, and creating a language for both in which -they should for ever speak, presents a far more sublime and touching -spectacle of fallen grandeur renovating itself under decay. Marius, -having "mewed his mighty youth," flew back to Rome like the eagle to his -quarry, surfeited himself with vengeance, and died in a debauch of -blood, leaving a name to be execrated through all generations: Dante did -not return to Florence; living or dead he did not return; but his name, -cast out and abhorred as it had been, stands the earliest and the -greatest of a long line of Tuscan poets, rivalling the most illustrious -of their country, not excepting those of even Rome and Ferrara. -</p> - -<p> -Dante's last and most magnanimous patron was Guido Novello da Polenta, -lord of Ravenna, who was himself a poet, and a munificent benefactor of -men of letters. This nobleman was the father of Francesca di Rimini, -whose fatal love has given her a place on the most splendid page of the -"Divina Commedia;" no other episode being told with equal beauty and -pathos: yet so brief and simple is the narrative, that, even if the -circumstances were as unexceptionably pure as they are insidiously -delicate, translation ought hardly to be attempted; for the labour would -be fruitless. Dante himself could not have given his masterpiece in -precisely corresponding terms in another language; though, had any other -been his own, it need not be doubted that in it he would have found -words to tell his tale as well. It is not what a poet finds a language -to be, but what he makes it, that constitutes the charm, not to be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">{Pg 29}</a></span> -imitated, of his style. This is the despair of translators, though few -seem to have suspected the existence of such a secret. -</p> - -<p> -The mental sufferings of the poet during his nineteen years of -banishment, ending in death, oftener find utterance, through his -writings, in bitter invectives and prophetic denunciations against his -enemies and traducers, than in strains of lamentation; yet would his -wounds bleed afresh, and the anguish of his spirit be renewed with all -the tenderness of wronged but passionate attachment, at every endeared -recollection of the land of his nativity;—the city where he had -been cradled and had grown up—where Beatrice was born, beloved, -and buried—where he had himself attained the highest honours of -the state, and, in his own esteem, deserved the lasting gratitude of his -fellow-citizens, instead of experiencing their implacable hatred. -Haughty yet humbled, vindictive yet forgiving, it is manifest, even in -his darkest moods, that his heart yearned for reconciliation; that he -pined in home-sickness wherever he went, and would gladly have renounced -all his wrath, and submitted to any self-denial consistent with honour, -to be received back into his country. For, much as he loved the -latter,—nay, madly as he loved it in his paroxysms of -exasperation,—he wrapt himself up tighter in the mantle of his -integrity as the storm raged more vehemently; and, as the conflict went -harder against him, grasped his honour, like his sword, never to be -surrendered but with life: to preserve these, he submitted to lose all -beside. -</p> - -<p> -Boccaccio says, that, at a certain time, some friend obtained from the -Florentine government leave for Dante to return, on condition that he -should remain a while in prison, then do penance at the principal church -during a festival solemnity, and afterwards be exempt from further -punishment for his offences against the state. As might be expected, he -spurned the ignominious terms. A letter, preserved in the Laurentian -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">{Pg 30}</a></span> -library<a name="NoteRef_14_1" id="NoteRef_14_1"></a><a href="#Note_14_1" class="fnanchor">[14]</a>, seems to refer to this circumstance, which, till the modern -discovery of that document, required stronger testimony than the random -verbiage of Boccaccio to confirm its credibility. It is addressed to a -correspondent at Florence, whom the writer styles "father." The -following are extracts; the original is in Latin. Having alluded to some -overtures for pardon and return, nearly corresponding with those above -mentioned, he proceeds:— -</p> - -<blockquote><p> -"Can such a recall to his country, after fifteen years' exile, be -glorious to Dante Alighieri? Has innocence, which is manifest to every -one,—have toil and fatigue in perpetuated studies, merited this? Away -from the man trained up in philosophy, the dastard humiliation of an -earth-born heart, that, like some petty pretender to knowledge, or other -base wretch, he should endure to be delivered up in chains! Away from -the man who demands justice, the thought that, after having suffered -wrong, he should make terms by his money with those who have injured -him, as though they had done righteously!—No, father! this is not the -way of return to my country for me. Yet, if you, or any body else, can -find another which shall not compromise the fame and the honour of -Dante, I will not be slow to take it. But if by such an one he may not -return to Florence,—to Florence he will never return. What then? May -I not every where behold the sun and the stars? Can I not every where -under heaven meditate on the most noble and delightful truths, without -first rendering myself inglorious, aye infamous, before the people and -city of Florence,—and this, for fear I should want bread!" -</p></blockquote> - -<p> -Far different return to Florence, and far other scene in his favourite -church there, had he sometimes ventured to anticipate as possible. This -we learn from the opening of the twenty-fifth canto of the "Paradiso," -where, even in the presence of Beatrice and St. Peter, he thus unbosoms -the long-cherished hope; conscious of high desert, as well as grievous -injustice, which he would nevertheless most fervently forgive, could -restoration to his country be obtained on terms "consistent with the -fame and honour of Dante." -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">{Pg 31}</a></span> -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"If e'er the sacred song, which heaven arid earth</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Have lent a hand to frame,—which, many a year,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Hath kept me lean with thought,—o'ercome the rage</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That bars re-entrance to the lovely fold,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Where, like a lamb, I slept; the foe of wolves,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Waging inveterate war against its life;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With other voice, with other fleece, will I</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Return, a poet, and receive the laurel</span><br /> -<span class="i2">At that baptismal font, where I was brought</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Into the faith which makes souls dear to God."<a name="NoteRef_15_1" id="NoteRef_15_1"></a><a href="#Note_15_1" class="fnanchor">[15]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -In the same church here alluded to (San Giovanni), at Florence, there -remained till lately a stone-remembrancer of Dante, in his prosperous -days, scarcely less likely than "storied urn or animated bust," to -awaken that sweet and voluntary sadness by which we love to associate -dead things with the memory of those who once have lived. This was no -other than an ancient bench of masonry which ran along the wall, -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"South of the church, east of the belfry-tower,"</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -on which, according to long-believed tradition, the future poet of the -other world was wont to -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Sit conversing in the sultry time,"</span> -</div></div> - - -<p>with those,</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Who little thought that in his hand he held</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The balance, and assign'd, at his good pleasure,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To each his place in the invisible world."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20">ROGER's <i>Italy.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Here also, according to his own record, in rescuing a child which had -fallen into the water, he accidentally broke one of the baptismal -fonts,—a circumstance which seems to have been maliciously -misrepresented as an act of wilful sacrilege. His stern anxiety to clear -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">{Pg 32}</a></span> -himself is characteristically indicated by the brief but dignified -attestation of the real fact, in the last line of the following singular -parallel between objects not otherwise likely to be brought into -comparison with each other. Describing the wells in which; -head-downward, simoniacal offenders (among the rest pope Nicholas III.) -were tormented with flames, that glanced from heel to toe along the -up-turned soles of their feet, he says,— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"The sides and bottom of that livid rock</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Were scoop'd into round holes, of equal size,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Which seem'd not less nor larger than the fonts</span><br /> -<span class="i2">For baptism, in my beautiful St. John's;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And one of which, not many years ago,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I broke to save a drowning child from death:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">—Be this my seal to undeceive the world."<a name="NoteRef_16_1" id="NoteRef_16_1"></a><a href="#Note_16_1" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20"><i>Dell' Inferno</i>, canto XIX.</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Dante resided several years at Ravenna, with the noble-minded Guido da -Polenta, who, of his own accord, had invited him thither, and who, to -the last moment of his life, made him feel no other burden in his -service than gratitude for benefits bestowed with such a grace as though -the giver, and not the receiver, were laid under obligation. By him -being sent on an embassy to Venice, with the government of which Guido -had an unhappy dispute, Dante not only failed to accomplish a -reconciliation, but was even refused an audience, and compelled to -return by land for fear of the enemy's fleet, which had already -commenced hostilities along the coast. He arrived at Ravenna -broken-hearted with the disappointment, and died soon -afterwards,—according to his epitaph, on the 14th of September, 1321, -though some authorities date his demise in July preceding. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">{Pg 33}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -The remains of the illustrious poet were buried with a splendour -honourable to his name and worthy of his patron, who himself pronounced -the funeral eulogium of his departed guest. His own countrymen, who had -hardened their hearts against justice and humanity, in resistance of his -return amongst them while living, soon after his death became sensible -of their folly, and too late repented it. Embassy on embassy, during the -two succeeding centuries, failed to recover the bones of their outcast -fellow-citizen from his hospitable entertainers; and Florence has less -to boast of in having given him birth, than Ravenna for having given him -burial. One of those fruitless negotiations was conducted under the -auspices of Leo X., and more illustriously sanctioned by Michael Angelo, -an enthusiastic admirer of Dante, who offered to adorn the shrine, had -the desired relics been obtained. The mighty sculptor,—himself the -Dante of marble, simple, severe, sublime in style, and preternatural -almost from the fulness of reality condensed in his ideal forms,—in -many of his works, both of the chisel and the pencil, introduced figures -suggested by images of the poet, or directly embodying such. Most -conspicuous among these were the statues of Leah and Rachel, from the -twenty-seventh canto of the "Purgatorio," on the monument of pope Julius -II. His own copy of the "Divina Commedia" was embellished down the -margin with sketches from the subjects of the text; and, had it been -preserved, would surely have been classed with the most precious of -those books for which collectors are eager to give ten times or more -their weight in gold. The fate of this volume was not less singular than -its good fortune; after having been made inestimable by the hand of -Michael Angelo, it was lost at sea, and thus added to the treasures of -darkness one of the richest spoils that ever went down from the light. -</p> - -<p> -It was the purpose of Guido da Polenta to erect a gorgeous sepulchre -over the ashes of the poet; but he neither reigned nor lived to -accomplish this, being soon afterwards driven from his dominions, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">{Pg 34}</a></span> -dying himself a banished man at Bologna. More than a hundred and fifty -years later, Bernardo Bembo, father of the famous cardinal, completed -Polenta's design, though upon an inferior scale; and three centuries -more had elapsed, when cardinal Gonzaga raised a second and far more -sumptuous monument in the same place,—Ravenna; while in Florence, to -this day, there is none worthy of itself or the poet, who had been in -turn "its glory and its shame." The greatest honours conferred on his -memory by his native city were, the restoration to his family of his -confiscated property, after a lapse of forty years, the erection of a -bust crowned with laurel, at the public expense, a present from the -state of ten golden florins to his daughter by the hands of Boccaccio, -and the appointment of a public lecturer to expound the mysteries of the -"Divina Commedia." Boccaccio was the first professor who filled this -chair of poetry, philosophy, and theology. He commenced his -dissertations on a Sunday, in the church of St. Stephen, but died at the -end of two years, having proceeded no further than the seventeenth Canto -of the "Inferno." Similar institutions were adopted in Bologna, Pisa, -Venice, and other Italian towns; so that the renown of the man who had -lived by sufferance, died an outlaw, and been indebted to strangers for -a grave, exceeded, within two centuries, that of all his countrymen who -in polite literature had gone before him, and became the load-star of -all who, in any age, should follow. At Rome only the memory of the -Ghibelline bard was execrated, and his writings were proscribed. His -book "De Monarchia" was publicly burnt there, by order of pope John -XXII., who also sent a cardinal to the successor of Guido da Polenta, to -demand his bones, that they might be dealt with as those of an heretic, -and the ashes scattered on the wind. How impotent is the vengeance of -the great after the death of the object of their displeasure! What a -refuge, especially to fame, is the grave; a sanctuary which can never be -violated; for all human passions die on its threshold! -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">{Pg 35}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -Boccaccio, the earliest of his biographers, though not the most -authentic, says, that in person Dante was of middle stature; that he -stooped a little from the shoulders, and was remarkable for his firm and -graceful gait. He always dressed in a manner peculiarly becoming his -rank and years. His visage was long, with an aquiline nose, and eyes -rather full than small; his cheek-bones large, and his upper lip -projecting beyond the under; his complexion was dark; his hair and beard -black, thick and curled; and his countenance exhibited a confirmed -expression of melancholy and thoughtfulness. Hence one day, at Verona, -as he passed a gateway, where several ladies were seated, one of them -exclaimed, "There goes the man who can take a walk to hell, and back -again, whenever he pleases, and bring us news of every thing that is -doing there." On which another, with equal sagacity, added, "That must -be true; for don't you see how his beard is frizzled, and his face -browned, with the heat and the smoke below!" The words, whether spoken -in sport or silliness, were overheard by the poet, who, as the fair -slanderers meant no malice, was quite willing that they should please -themselves with their own fancies. Towards the opening of the -"Purgatorio" there is an allusion to the soil which his face had -contracted on his journey with Virgil through the nether world:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"High morn had triumph'd o'er the glimmering dawn</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Which fled before her, so that I discern'd</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The <i>tremble</i> of the ocean from afar:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">We walk'd along the solitary plain,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Like men retracing their erratic steps,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Who think all lost till they regain the path.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Arriving where the dew-drops with the sun</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Contended, and lay thick beneath the shade,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Both hands my master delicately spread</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Upon the grass:—aware of his intent,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I turn'd to him my tearful countenance,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And thence he wiped away the dusky hue,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With which the infernal air had sullied it."<a name="NoteRef_17_1" id="NoteRef_17_1"></a><a href="#Note_17_1" class="fnanchor">[17]</a></span> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">{Pg 36}</a></span></p> - -<p> -In his studies, Dante was so eager, earnest, and indefatigable, that his -wife and family often complained of his unsocial habits. Boccaccio -mentions, that once, when he was at Siena, having unexpectedly found at -a shop window a book which he had not seen, but had long coveted, he -placed himself on a bench before the door, at nine o'clock in the -morning, and never lifted up his eyes from the volume till vespers, when -he had run through the whole contents with such intense application, as -to have totally disregarded the festivities of processions and music -which had been passing through the streets the greater part of the day; -and when questioned about what had happened even in his presence, he -denied having had knowledge of any thing but what he was reading. As -might be expected from his other habits, he rarely spoke, except when -personally addressed, or strongly moved, and then his words were few, -well chosen, weighty, and expressed in tones of voice accommodated to -the subject. Yet when it was required, his eloquence brake forth with -spontaneous felicity, splendour, and exuberance of diction, imagery, and -thought. -</p> - -<p> -Dante delighted in music. The most natural and touching incident in his -"Purgatorio" is the interview between himself and his friend Casella; an -eminent singer in his day, who must, notwithstanding, have been -forgotten within his century, but for the extraordinary good fortune -which has befallen him, to be celebrated by two of the greatest poets of -their respective countries, (Dante and Milton) from whose pages his name -cannot soon perish. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">{Pg 37}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -Choosing to excel in all the elegancies of life, as well as in -gentlemanly exercises and intellectual prowess, Dante attached himself -to painting not less than to music, and practised it with the pencil -(not, indeed, so triumphantly as with the pen, his picture-poetry being -unrivalled,) with sufficient facility and grace to make it a favourite -amusement in private; and none can believe that he could amuse himself -with what was worthless. His four celebrated contemporaries, Cimabue, -Odorigi, Franco Bolognese, and Giotto, are all honourably mentioned by -him in the eleventh canto of the "Purgatorio." -</p> - -<p> -There is an interesting allusion to the employment which he loved in the -"Vita Nuova:—On the day that completed the year after this lady -(Beatrice) had been received among the denizens of eternal life, while -I was sitting alone, and recalling her form to my remembrance, I drew an -angel on a certain tablet," &c. It may be incidentally observed, that -Dante's angels are often painted with unsurpassable beauty as well as -inexhaustible variety of delineation throughout his poem, especially in -canto IX. of the "Inferno," and cantos II. VIII. XII. XV. XVII. XXIV. of -the "Purgatorio." Take six lines of one of these portraits; though the -inimitable original must consume the unequal version. -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"A noi venia la creatura bella,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Bianco vestita, e nella faccia, quale</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Par, tremolando, mattutina stella:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Le braccia aperse, e indi aperse l'ale;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Disse; 'Venite; qui son presso i gradi,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E agevolmente ornai si sale.'"</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20"><i>Dell' Purgatorio</i>, canto XII.</span> -</div></div> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"That being came, all beautiful, to meet us,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Clad in white raiment, and the morning star</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Appear'd to tremble in his countenance;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">His arms he spread, and then he spread his wings</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And cried, 'Come on, the steps are near at hand.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And here the ascent is easy.'"</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Leonardo Aretino, who had seen Dante's handwriting, mentions, with no -small commendation, that the letters were long; slender, and exceedingly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">{Pg 38}</a></span> -distinct,—the characteristics of what is called in ornamental writing -a fine Italian hand. The circumstance may seem small, but it is not -insignificant as a finishing stroke in the portraiture of one who, -though he was the first poet unquestionably, and not the last -philosopher, was also one of the most accomplished gentlemen of his age. -</p> - -<p> -Two of Dante's sons, Pietro and Jacopo, inherited a portion of their -father's spirit, and were among the first commentators on his -works,—an inestimable advantage to posterity, since the local and -personal histories were familiar to them; for had these not been -explained by contemporaries, many of the brief and more exquisite -allusions must have been irrecoverably lost, and some of the most -affecting passages remained as uninterpretable as though they had been -carved on granite in hieroglyphics. For example, in the fifth canto of -the "Purgatorio," the travellers meet three spirits together,—the -first, Giacopo del Cassero of Fano, who had been assassinated by order -of a prince of Ferrara, for having spoken ill of his highness;—the -second, Buonconte, of Montefeltro, who had fallen fighting on the side -of the Aretines, in the battle of Campaldino; and for whose soul a -singular contention took place between a good angel and an evil one, in -which the former happily prevailed;—the third shade was that of a -female of rank, who, having quietly waited till the two gentlemen had -told their tales, thus emphatically hinted hers:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Ah! when thou hast return'd to yonder world,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And art reposing from thy long, long journey,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Remember me, for I am Pia:—</span><br /> -<span class="i14">* * * *</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Siena gave me birth, Maremma death,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And this <i>he</i> knows, who, with his ring and jewel,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But newly had espoused me."<a name="NoteRef_18_1" id="NoteRef_18_1"></a><a href="#Note_18_1" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></span> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">{Pg 39}</a></span></p> - -<p> -This unfortunate lady was the bride of Nello della Pietra, a grandee of -Siena, who, becoming jealous of her, removed his predestined victim to -the putrid marshes of Maremma, where she soon drooped and died, without -suspicion on her part, or intimation on his, of the hideous purpose for -which she had been hurried thither; her gloomy keeper, with a dreadful -eye, watching her life go out like a lamp in a charnel-vault, and after -her death abandoning himself to despair.—One of Dante's sons above -mentioned (Pietro) was an eminent lawyer at Verona, and enjoyed the -friendship of Petrarch, who dedicated some lines to him, at Trevizi, in -1361. Jacopo is said to have been a writer of Italian verse. Of three -others, almost nothing is known, except that they died young. His -daughter Beatrice, so named after his <i>first</i> love, took the veil in -the convent of St. Stefano del' Uliva, at Ravenna. -</p> - -<p> -Dante was the author of two Latin treatises,—the one already noticed, -"De Monarchia;" and another, "De Vulgari Eloquio," on the structure of -language in general, and that of Italy in particular. But for his -celebrity he is indebted solely to his productions in the latter tongue, -consisting of "La Vita Nuova," a reverie of fact and fable, in prose and -rhyme, referring to his youthful love;—"Canzoni<a name="NoteRef_19_1" id="NoteRef_19_1"></a><a href="#Note_19_1" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> and Sonnets" of -which his lady was the eternal theme;—"Il Convito," a critical and -mystical commentary on three of his lyrics;—and the "Divina Commedia, -or Vision of Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise," by the glory of which its -forerunners have been at once eclipsed and kept in mid-day splendour, -instead of glimmering through that doubtful twilight of obscure fame -among the feeble productions of contemporaries, which must have been -their lot but for such fortunate alliance. -</p> - -<p> -The prose of the "Vita Nuova" and the "Convito" is deemed, at this day, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">{Pg 40}</a></span> -not only nervous and racy, but in a high degree pure and elegant -Italian; while much greater praise may be unhesitatingly bestowed upon -his verse. Whether employed upon the arbitrary structure of Canzoni, the -love-knot form of the sonnet, or the interminable chain of <i>terze -rime</i>, (the triple intertwisted rhyme of the "Divina Commedia," which -Dante is supposed to have invented,) his language is not more antiquated to -his countrymen than the English of Shakspeare is to ours. The limits of the -present essay preclude further notice of his lyrics than the general -remark, that they have all the stately, brief, sententious character of -his heroics, with occasional strokes of natural tenderness, and not -unfrequently exhibit a delicacy of thought so pure, graceful, and -unaffected, that Petrarch himself has seldom reached it in his more -ornate and laboured compositions. -</p> - -<p> -Dante did more than either his predecessors or contemporaries had done -to improve, ennoble, and refine his native idiom; indeed he was wont to -speak indignantly of those who would degrade it below the Provençal, the -fashionable vehicle of verse in that age of transition, when the young -languages of modern Europe, begotten between the stern tongues of the -north and the classic ones of the south, were growing up together, on -both sides of the Alps and the Pyrenees, like children in rivalry of -each other, as the nations that spoke them respectively, so often -intermingled in war or in peace. At the close of canto XXVI. of the -"Purgatorio," Arnauld Daniel is introduced as the master-minstrel of the -age gone by, singing some lines in a "Babylonish dialect," partly -Provençal and partly Catalonian; pitting infamous French against the -worst kind of Spanish (according to P. P. Venturi); and these certainly -present a striking contrast of barbarous dissonance with the full-toned -Tuscan of the context. -</p> - -<p> -Like our Spenser, Dante took many freedoms with the extant Italian, -which no later writer could have used. For the sake of euphony, -emphasis, or rhyme, he occasionally modified words and terminations to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">{Pg 41}</a></span> -serve a present purpose only, and which he himself rejected elsewhere. -In this he was justified: he ran through the whole compass of his native -vocabulary, he tried every note of the diapason, and all that were most -pure, harmonious, or energetic, he sanctioned, by employing them in his -song, which gave them a voice through after ages, so that few, -comparatively very few, have been entirely rejected by his most -fastidious successors. It was well for the poetry of his country that he -wrote his immortal work in its language; for neither Petrarch nor -Boccaccio could have gone so far as they did in perfecting it, if they -had not had so great a model, not to equal only but to excel. They, -indeed, affected to think little of their vernacular writings, and -pretended merely to amuse themselves with such compositions as every -body could read. Dante himself began his poem in Latin; and if he had -gone forward, the finishing stroke of the last line would have been a -<i>coup-de-grace</i>, which it could never have survived.<a name="NoteRef_20_1" id="NoteRef_20_1"></a><a href="#Note_20_1" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> -</p> - -<p> -Of the origin of the "Divina Commedia" it would be in vain to speculate -here; the author himself, probably, could not have traced the first -idea. Such conceptions neither come by inspiration nor by chance:—who -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">{Pg 42}</a></span> -can recollect the moment when he began to think, yet all his thoughts -have been consecutively allied to that? Many visions and allegories had -appeared before Dante's; and in several of these were gross -representations of the spiritual world, especially of purgatory, the -reality of which, during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, was urged -upon credulity with extraordinary zeal and perseverance by a corrupt -hierarchy. By all these rather than by one his mind might have been -prepared for the work. -</p> - -<p> -Seven cantos of the "Inferno" are understood to have been written before -the author's banishment; it is manifest, however, that if this were the -case they must have been considerably altered afterwards; indeed the -whole character of the poem, however the original outline may have been -followed, must have undergone a very remarkable, and (afflictive as the -occasion may have been for himself) a very auspicious change, from his -misfortunes. To the latter, his poem owes many of its most splendid -passages, and almost all its personal interest; an interest wherein -consists, if not its <i>principal</i>, its <i>prevailing</i> and preserving -charm. Had the whole been composed in prosperity, amidst honours, and -affluence, and learned ease, in his native city, it would no doubt have -been a mighty achievement of genius; but much that enhances and endears -both its moral and its fable could never have been suggested, indeed -would not have existed, under happier circumstances. That moral, indeed, -is often as mistaken as that fable is monstrous; but the one and the -other should be judged according to the times. The poet's romantic and -unearthly love to Beatrice would have wanted that sombre and terrible -relief which is now given to it by the gloom of his own character, the -expression of his feelings under the sense of unmerited wrongs, -invectives thundered out against his persecutors, and exposures of -atrocities which were every-day deeds of every-day men, in those -distracted countries, of which his poem has left such fearful records. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">{Pg 43}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -Much unsatisfactory discussion has arisen upon the title "Divina -Commedia," which Dante gave to his poem; it being presumed that he had -never seen a regular drama either in letter or exhibition, as the Greek -and Latin authors of that class were scarcely known in Italy till after -his time. The religious spectacles, however, common in the darkest of -the middle ages, consisting not of pantomime only, but of dialogue and -song, may have suggested to him the designation as well as the subject -of his strange adventure. Be this as it may, the character of the work -is dramatic throughout, consisting of a series of scenes, which conduct -to one catastrophe; for however miscellaneous or insulated they may seem -in respect to <i>each other</i>,—in respect to <i>the author</i> (who -is his own hero, and for whose warning, instruction, and final recovery -from an evil course of life, the whole are collocated,) they all bear -directly upon <i>him</i>, and accomplish by just gradations the purpose for -which they were intended. Dante is a changed man when he emerges, from the -infernal regions in the centre of the globe, upon the shore of the island -of Purgatory at the Antipodes; and is further so refined by his ascent up -that perilous mount, that when he reaches the terrestrial paradise at -the top, he is prepared for translation from thence through the nine -spheres of the celestial universe. Many of the interviews between the -visiters of the invisible worlds which they explore, and the inhabitants -of these, are scenes which involve all the peculiarities of -stage-exhibitions,—dialogue, action, passion,—secrecy, -surprise, interruption. Examples may be named. The meeting and -conversations with Sordello, in the sixth and seventh cantos -of the "Purgatorio," in which there are two instances of unexpected -discoveries which bring out the whole beauty and grandeur of that -mysterious personage's character; as a patriot, when at the mere sound of -the word "Mantua" he embraces Virgil with transport, not yet knowing, nor -even enquiring, any thing further about him, except that he is his -countryman; and afterwards as a poet, when, Virgil disclosing his name, -Sordello is overpowered with delightful astonishment, like one who suddenly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">{Pg 44}</a></span> -beholds something wonderful before him, and, scarcely believing his own -eyes for joy, exclaims, in a breath, "It is! it is not!" (<i>Ell' è, non -è.</i>) The parties are thus introduced to each other. Dante and Virgil are -considering which road they shall take, when the latter observes:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Yonder I see a spirit, fix'd in thought,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Alone and gazing earnestly upon us,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">He will point out the readier way to take.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Tow'rds him we went—Soul of a Longobardian!</span><br /> -<span class="i2">How didst thou stand aloof with haughty bearing,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And lordly eyes, slow-moving as we moved!</span><br /> -<span class="i2">—He utter'd not a word, but let us pass,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">On-looking like a lion from his lair:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But Virgil, drawing near, entreated him</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To show the easiest path for our ascent:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Still to that meek request he answer'd not,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But of our country and our way of life</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Enquired;—my courteous guide began then, 'Mantua';</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Straight at the word, that spirit, erewhile so wrapt</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Within himself, sprang from his place, and cried,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'O Mantuan! I'm thy countryman, Sordello;'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And one the other instantly embraced."<a name="NoteRef_21_1" id="NoteRef_21_1"></a><a href="#Note_21_1" class="fnanchor">[21]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -The reserve of Sordello is generally attributed to stubbornness or -pride; but is it not manifest that, on the first sight of the strangers, -he had a misgiving hope (if the phrase be allowable) which he feared -might deceive him, that they were countrymen of his, wherefore, absorbed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">{Pg 45}</a></span> -in that sole idea, he disregards their question concerning the road, and -directly comes to the point which he was anxious to ascertain; and this -being resolved by the single word "Mantua," his soul flies forth at once -to embrace the speaker? -</p> - -<p> -In the tenth canto of the "Inferno," where heretics are described as -being tormented in tombs of fire, the lids of which are suspended over -them till the day of judgment, Dante finds Farinata d'Uberti, an -illustrious commander of the Ghibellines, who, at the battle of Monte -Aperto, in 1260, had so utterly defeated the Guelfs of Florence, that -the city lay at the mercy of its enemies, by whom counsel was taken to -raze it to the ground: but Farinata, because his bowels yearned towards -his native city, stood up alone to oppose the barbarous design; and -partly by menace—having drawn his sword in the midst of the -assembly—and partly by persuasion, preserved the city from -destruction. The interview is thus painted; but to prepare the reader for -well understanding the nature of the by-play which intervenes, it is -necessary to state that Cavalcante Cavalcanti, whose head appears out of -an adjacent sepulchre, was the father of Guido Cavalcanti, a poet, the -particular friend of Dante, and chief of the Bianchi party banished -during his priorship. -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">"'O Tuscan! Thou, who, through this realm of fire,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Alive dost walk, thus courteously conversing</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Pause, if it please thee, here. Thy dialect</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Proclaims thy lineage from that noble land,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Which I, perhaps, too much have wrong'd.'</span><br /> -<span class="i20">"Such sounds</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Suddenly issued forth from one of those</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Sepulchral caverns.—Tremblingly I crept</span><br /> -<span class="i2">A little nearer to my guide, but he</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Cried, 'Turn again! What would'st thou do? Behold,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'Tis Farinata that hath raised himself:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">There may'st thou see him, upward from the loins.'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Already had I fix'd mine eyes on his,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Who stood, with bust and visage so erect,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">As though he look'd on hell itself with scorn.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">My master then, with prompt and resolute hands,</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">{Pg 46}</a></span> -<span class="i2">Thrust me among the charnel-vaults towards him,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Saying,—'Thy words be plain.' When I had reach'd</span><br /> -<span class="i2">His tombstone-foot, he look'd at me a while</span><br /> -<span class="i2">As in disdain, then loftily demanded—</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'Who were thine ancestors?'</span><br /> -<span class="i20">——"Eager to tell,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nought I conceal'd, but utter'd all the truth.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Arching his brow a little, he return'd;—</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'Bitter antagonists of mine, of me,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And of my party, were thy sires; but twice</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I scatter'd them.'</span><br /> -<span class="i16">"'If scatter'd twice,' said I,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'Once and again they came from all sides back,—</span><br /> -<span class="i2">A lesson which <i>thy</i> friends have not well learn'd.'</span><br /> -<span class="i4">"Just then a second figure, at his side,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Emerged to view; unveil'd above the chin,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And kneeling, as methought.—It look'd around</span><br /> -<span class="i2">So wistfully, as though it hoped to find</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Some other with me; but, that hope dispell'd,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Weeping it spake:—'If through this dungeon-gloom,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Grandeur of genius guide thy venturous way,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">My son!—where is he?—and why not with <i>thee?</i>'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Then I to him:—"Not of myself I came;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">He who awaits me yonder brought me hither,—</span><br /> -<span class="i2">One whom perhaps thy Guido held in scorn.<a name="NoteRef_22_1" id="NoteRef_22_1"></a><a href="#Note_22_1" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></span><br /> -<span class="i2">His speech and form of penance had already</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Taught me his name; my words were therefore pointed.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Upstarting he exclaim'd:—"How?—said'st thou <i>held?</i></span><br /> -<span class="i2">Lives he not then? and doth not heaven's sweet light</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Fall on his eyes?'—When I w as slow to answer,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Backward he sunk, and re-appear'd no more.</span><br /> -<span class="i4">"Meanw'hile that other most majestic form,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Near which I stood, neither changed countenance,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nor turn'd his neck, nor lean'd to either side:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'And if,' quoth he, our first debate resuming,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'They have not well that lesson learn'd, the thought</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Torments me more than this infernal bed:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And yet, not fifty times her changing face,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Who here reigns sovereign, shall be re-illumined,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ere <i>thou</i> shalt know how hard that lesson is.<a name="NoteRef_23_1" id="NoteRef_23_1"></a><a href="#Note_23_1" class="fnanchor">[23]</a></span><br /> -<span class="i2">—But tell me,—so may'st thou return in peace</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To the dear world above!—why are thy people</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">{Pg 47}</a></span> -<span class="i2">In all their acts so mad against my race?'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">—'The slaughter and discomfiture,' said I,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'That turn'd the river red at Mont-Aperto,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Have caused such dire proscriptions in our temples.'</span><br /> -<span class="i4">"He shook his head, deep-sighing, then rejoin'd,—</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'I was not <i>there</i> alone; nor without cause</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Engaged with others; but I <i>was</i> alone,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And stood in her defence with open brow,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">When all our council, with one voice, decreed</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That Florence should be razed from her foundation.'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">"'So may thy kindred find repose, as thou</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Shalt loose a knot which hath entangled me!'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Thus I adjured him:—'ye foresee what time</span><br /> -<span class="i2">(If rightly I have heard) will bring to pass,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But to the present, otherwise, are blind.'</span><br /> -<span class="i4">"'We see, like him who hath an evil eye,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Far distant things,' said he; 'so highest God</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Enlightens us: but yet, when they approach,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Or when they are, our intellect falls short;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nor can we know, save by report from others,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Aught of the state of man beneath the sun.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Hence may'st thou comprehend how all our knowledge</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Shall cease for ever from the point that shuts</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The portal of the future.'<a name="NoteRef_24_1" id="NoteRef_24_1"></a><a href="#Note_24_1" class="fnanchor">[24]</a></span><br /> -<span class="i20">"At that moment</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Compunction smote me for my recent fault,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And I cried out—'Oh! tell that fallen one,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">His son is yet among the living.—Say,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That if I falter'd to reply at first</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With that assurance, 'twas because my thoughts</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Were harass'd by the doubt which thou hast solved.'"<a name="NoteRef_25_1" id="NoteRef_25_1"></a><a href="#Note_25_1" class="fnanchor">[25]</a></span> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">{Pg 48}</a></span></p> - -<p> -The reader of these lines (however inferior the translation may be), -cannot have failed to perceive by what natural action and speech the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">{Pg 49}</a></span> -paternal anxiety of Cavalcante respecting his son is indicated. On his -bed of torture he hears a voice which he knows to be that of his son's -friend; he starts up, looks eagerly about, as expecting to see that son; -but observing the friend only, he at once interrupts the dialogue with -Farinata, and in broken exclamations enquires concerning him. Dante -happening to employ the past tense of a verb in reference to what his -"Guido" might have done, the miserable parent instantly lays hold of -that minute circumstance as an intimation of his death, and asks -questions of which he dreads the answers, precisely in the manner of -Macduff when he learns that his wife and children had been murdered by -Macbeth. The poet hesitating to reply. Cavalcante takes the worst for -granted, falls back in despair, and appears not again. Thus, -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Even from <i>his</i> tomb the voice of Nature cries."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Dante, however, at the close of the scene, unexpectedly recurs to his -own fault with the tenderness of compunction and delicacy of respect due -to an unfortunate being, whom he had unintentionally agonised with his -silence, and sends a message to the old man that his son yet lives.<a name="NoteRef_26_1" id="NoteRef_26_1"></a><a href="#Note_26_1" class="fnanchor">[26]</a> -Contrasted with this trembling sensibility of a father's affection, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">{Pg 50}</a></span> -stronger than death, and out-feeling the pains of hell, is the stern, -calm, patient dignity of Farinata, who, though wounded to the quick by -the retort of Dante at the moment when their discourse was broken upon, -stands unmoved in mind, in look, in posture, till the interlude is -ended; and then, without the slightest allusion to it, he takes up the -suspended argument at the last words of his opponent, as though his -thoughts had all the while been ruminating on the disgrace of his -friends, the afflictions of his family, and the inextinguishable enmity -of his countrymen against himself. His noble rejoinder, on Dante's -reference to the carnage at Monte Aperto as the cause of his people's -implacability, is above all praise. Indeed, it would be difficult to -point out, in ancient or modern tragedy, a passage of more sublimity or -pathos, in which so few words express so much, yet leave so much more to -be imagined by any one who has "a human heart," as the whole of this -scene in the original exhibits. -</p> - -<p> -Dante's poem is certainly neither the greatest nor the best in the -world; but it is, perhaps, the most extraordinary one which resolute -intellect ever planned, or persevering talents successfully executed. It -stands alone; and must be read and judged according to rules and -immunities adapted to its peculiar structure, plot, and purpose, formed -upon principles affording scope to the exercise of the highest powers, -with little regard to precedent. If these principles, then, have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">{Pg 51}</a></span> -intrinsic excellence, and the work be found uniformly consistent with -them, fulfilling to the utmost the aims of the author, the "Divina -Commedia" must be allowed to stand among the proudest trophies of -original genius, challenging, encountering, and overcoming unparalleled -difficulties. Though the fields of action, or rather of vision, are -nominally Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise,—the Paradise, Purgatory, and -Hell of Dante, with all their terrors, and splendours, and preternatural -fictions, are but representations of scenes transacted on earth, and -characters that lived antecedently or contemporaneously with himself. -Though altogether <i>out</i> of the world, the whole is of the world. Men -and women seem fixed in eternal torments, passing through purifying flames, -or exalted to celestial beatitude; yet in all these situations they are -what they were; and It is their former history, more than their present -happiness, hope, or despair, which constitutes, through a hundred -cantos, the interest, awakened and kept up by the successive exhibition -of more than a thousand individual actors and sufferers. Of every one of -these something terrible or touching is intimated or told, briefly at -the utmost, but frequently by mere hints of narrative or gleams of -allusion, which excite curiosity in the breast of the reader; who is -surprised at the poet's forbearance, when, in the notes of commentators, -he finds complex, strange, and fearful circumstances, on which a modern -versifier or novelist would expend pages, treated here as ordinary -events, on which it would be impertinent to dwell. These, in the -author's own age, were generally understood; the bulk of the materials -being gathered up during a period of restlessness and confusion among -the republican states of Italy. -</p> - -<p> -Hence, though the first appearance of the "Divina Commedia," in any -intelligible edition, is repulsive from the multitude of notes, and the -text is not seldom difficult and dark with the oracular compression of -strong ideas in few and pregnant words, yet will the toil and patience -of any reader he well repaid, who perseveringly proceeds but a little -way, quietly referring, as occasion may require, from the obscurity of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">{Pg 52}</a></span> -the original to the illustrations below; for when he returns from the -latter to the former (as though his own eye had been refreshed with new -light, the darkness having been in it, and not in the verse), what was -colourless as a cloud is radiant with beauty, and what before was -undefined in form becomes exquisitely precise and symmetrical, from -comprehending in so small a compass so vast a variety of thought, -feeling, or fact. Dante, in this respect, must be studied as an author -in a dead language by a learner, or rather as one who employs a living -language on forgotten themes; then will his style grow easier and -clearer as the reader grows more and more acquainted with his subject, -his manner, and his materials. For whatever be the corruptions of the -text (which perhaps has never been sufficiently collated), the -remoteness of the allusions, and our countrymen's want of that previous -knowledge of almost every thing treated upon, which best prepares the -mind for the perception and highest enjoyment of poetical beauty and -poetical pleasure, Dante will be found, in reality, one of the most -clear, minute, and accurate writers in sentiment, as he is one of the -most perfectly natural and graphic painters to the life of persons, -characters, and actions. His draughts have the freedom of etchings, and -the sharpness of proof impressions. His poem is well worth all the pains -which the most indolent reader may take to master it. -</p> - -<p> -Ordinary poetry is often striking and captivating at first view, but all -its merit is at once elicited; and frequently that which charmed so much -at first becomes less and less affecting, less and less defined, the -more it is examined, till light turns to mist, and mist to shadow in the -end; whereas the highest order of poetry—that which is -<i>intellectual</i>—the longer it is dwelt upon, the lovelier, the -nobler, the more delightful it appears, and when fully understood remains -imperishable in its graces and effects; repetition a thousand times does -not impair it; its creations, like those of nature,—familiar, indeed, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">{Pg 53}</a></span> -as the sun and the stars,—are never less glorious and beautiful, -though daily before us. Dante's poetry (extravagant and imaginative as he -often may be) is thoroughly intellectual; there is no enthusiasm of -feeling, but there is much of philosophical and theological subtlety, and -of course much absurdity in some of his reveries; yet his passion is always -pure and unaffected, his descriptions are daylight realities, and his -heroes men of flesh and blood. Probably no other work of human genius so -far exceeds in its development the expectation of prejudiced or -unprepared readers, as the "Divina Commedia;" or performs, in fact, so -much more than it seems to promise. -</p> - -<p> -Dante has created a hell, purgatory, and paradise of his own; and, being -satisfied with the present world as a nursery for his personages, he has -peopled his ultramundane regions with these, assigning to all their -abodes "sulphureous or ambrosial," or refining those who were yet -corrigible after death, according to his own pleasure, his theological -views, and his moral feelings. It must be confessed that, whatever were -his passions, prejudices, or failings, his attachments or antipathies, -as an arbiter of fate he appears honestly to have distributed justice, -to the best of his knowledge, to all whom he has cited before his -tribunal, leaving in the case of every one (perhaps) a judgment -unimpeachable and unappealable; so forcibly does he impress the mind -with the truth and reality of the evidence of their merit or turpitude, -which he produces to warrant his sentences. As a man, he is, indeed, -fierce, splenetic, and indignant at times, especially in execrating his -countrymen for their profligacy and injustice towards himself; yet -(though there may have been primary motives less noble than the apparent -ones, at the bottom of his heart, unsuspected even by himself,) his -anger and his vengeance seem always directed against those who deserved -to be swept from the face of the earth, as venal, treacherous, -parricidal wretches. With the wonders which he beheld in his invisible -world, in his complicated travels through its triple round of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">{Pg 54}</a></span> -labyrinths;—as, in hell, wheel within wheel, diminishing downward to -the centre; in purgatory, circle above circle, terminating in the garden -of Eden; and, in his paradise, orb beyond orb, through the solar system -to the heaven of heavens, where he "presumed, an earthly guest, and drew -empyreal air;"—with these he has constructed a poem of a thousand -pages, exhibiting the greatest diversity of characters, scenes, -circumstances, and events, that were ever embraced in an equal compass; -while all are made perfectly to harmonise and conduce to one process, -carried on at every step of his pilgrimage, namely, the gradual -purification of the poet himself, by the examples which he sees and the -lessons which he hears; as well as by the toils he undergoes, the pains -he endures, and the bliss he partakes, in his long and dreary path down -into the nether regions, where there is no hope; up the steep hill, -where, though there is suffering, there is no fear of ultimate release; -and on his flight through the "nine-enfolded spheres," where all are as -happy as they can be in their present station, yet, as they pass from -stage to stage, rise in capacity and means of enjoyment to fulness of -felicity in the beatific vision. -</p> - -<p> -Dante was the very poet, and the "Divina Commedia" the very poem, to be -expected from the influence of all existing circumstances in church and -state at the time when he flourished. The poet and his age were -homogeneous, and his song was as truly in season as that of the -nightingale in spring; the winter of barbarism had broken up, the summer -heat of refinement had not yet come on: a century earlier there would -have been too much ignorance, a century later too much intelligence, to -form such a theme and such a minstrel; for though Dante, in any age, -must have been one of its greatest bards, yet the bard that he was he -could not have been in any other than that in which he lived. -</p> - -<p> -Dante, as hath already been intimated, is the hero of his own poem; and -the "Divina Commedia" is the only example of an attempt triumphantly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">{Pg 55}</a></span> -achieved, and placed beyond the reach of scorn or neglect, wherein, from -beginning to end, the author discourses concerning himself individually. -Had this been done in any other way than the consummately simple, -delicate, and unobtrusive one which he has adopted, the whole would have -been insufferable egotism, disgusting coxcombry, or oppressive -dulness,—whereas this personal identity is the charm, the strength, -the soul of the book: he lives, he breathes, he moves through it; his pulse -beats or stands still, his eye kindles or fades, his cheek grows pale -with horror, colours with shame, or burns with indignation; we hear his -voice, his step, in every page; we see his shape by the flames of hell, -his shadow in the land where there is no <i>other</i> shadow -("Purgatorio"), and his countenance gaining angelic elevation from -"colloquy sublime" with glorified intelligences in the paradise above. Nor -does he ever go out of his actual character;—he is, indeed, the lover -from infancy of Beatrice, the aristocratic magistrate of a fierce -democracy, the valiant soldier in the field of Campaldino, the fervent -patriot in the feuds of Guelfs and Ghibellines, the eloquent and subtle -disputant in the schools of theology; the melancholy exile, wandering from -court to court, depending for bread and shelter on petty princes who knew -not his worth, except as a splendid captive in their train; and, above all -(though not obtrusively so), he is the poet anticipating his own assured -renown, and dispensing at his will honour or infamy to others, whom he need -but to name, and the sound must be heard to the end of time, and echoed -from all regions of the globe. Dante, in his vision, is Dante as he lived, -as he died, and as he expected to live in both worlds beyond -death,—an immortal spirit in the one, an unforgotten poet in the -other. Pride of birth, consciousness of genius, religious feeling almost to -fanaticism, and the sense of wrongs, under which he is alternately inflamed -with rage, withered with disappointment, or saddened with -despair,—these are continually reminding the reader of the man as he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">{Pg 56}</a></span> -was; stimulating his jaded hope with the bitter sweet of revenge, which he -could wreak at will upon his enemies; and solacing a wounded spirit with -the thought of fame in possession, which his fellow-citizens could not -confiscate, and fame in <i>reversion</i>, of which contemporaries could not -cut off the entail. -</p> - -<p> -Yet while he is thus in every point an individual, he is at the same -time an exemplar of the whole species; and he may emphatically say to -the reader who can follow him in his journeys, receive his inspirations, -and share in his troubles, anxieties, joys, and disappointments:—"Am -I not a man and a brother?" Dante, though in this sense the hero of his -own poem, is any thing but a hero, either in the vulgar or the -chivalrous sense of the term. He is a human being, with all the faults, -frailties, and imperfections of our common nature, as they really -existed in himself, and as they more or less exist in every other -person; nor can a less sophisticated character be found in all the -volumes of prose and rhyme that have appeared since this -auto-biographical poem. He assumes nothing; he conceals nothing; his -fears, his ignorance, his loves, and his enmities, are all undisguisedly -set forth, as though he were all the while communing with his own heart, -without the cowardly apprehension of blame, or the secret desire of -applause from a fellow-creature. He is always, indeed, noble, manly, and -candid, but travelling continually in company of some superior -intelligence,—Virgil in hell and purgatory, and Beatrice in purgatory -and heaven,—he always defers to the one or the other in difficulty, -doubt, or danger, and clings for protection, as well as looks up for -instruction, with childlike simplicity and docility; returning with the -most reverent and affectionate gratitude every token of kindness -received from either. -</p> - -<p> -Marvellous and incredible, it must be confessed, are many of the stories -which he tells; but he tells them with the plainness and -straight-forwardness of a man who is speaking the truth, and nothing -else, of his own knowledge. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">{Pg 57}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -In the last cantos of the "Purgatorio," and throughout the "Paradiso," -there is a prodigious putting forth of power to describe ineffable and -eternal things; with inexhaustible prodigality of illustration, and -transmutation of the same symbols, to constitute different gradations of -blessedness and glory. Of these, however, there are scarcely any types -except light, colour, sound, and motion, variously combined to represent -spiritual beings, their forms, their occupations, and manner of -discoursing; but even amongst such inexpressible, nay, unimaginable -scenes and passages, the human nature which cleaves to the poet, and -shows itself, under every transmigration, allied to flesh and blood, -gives an interest which allegorical pictures of invisible realities can -never keep up beyond the first brilliant impression. Yet the vitality -and strength of the poem reside chiefly in the first and second parts; -diminishing just in proportion as the author rises above the regions -which exhibit the sins and sufferings of creatures like ourselves, -punished with everlasting destruction in hell, or "burnt and purged -away," through the penal inflictions of purgatory. It may, however, be -said, with regard to the whole, that no ideal beings, ideal scenes, or -ideal occurrences, in any poem or romance, have ever more perfectly -<i>personified</i> truth and nature than those in this composition, which, -though the theatre is figuratively beyond the limits of human action, is -nevertheless full of such action in its most common as well as its most -extraordinary forms. -</p> - -<p> -There is scarcely a decorous attitude of the human frame, a look -expressive of the most concealed sentiment, or a feeling of pain, -pleasure, surprise, doubt, fear, agony, hope, delight, which is not -described with a minuteness of discrimination alike curious and -admirable; the poet himself frequently being the subject of the same, -and exciting our sympathy by the lively or poignant remembrance of -having ourselves done, looked, felt like him, when we were far from -being ingenuous enough to acknowledge the weakness implied. There is -scarcely a phenomenon in the visible heavens, the earth, the sea, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">{Pg 58}</a></span> -the phases of nature, which he has not presented in the most striking -manner. In such instances he frequently descends to the nicest -particulars, that he may realise the exact view of them which he wishes -to be taken; they being necessarily illustrations of invisible and -preternatural subjects. This leads to the remark, that the poem abounds -with similes of the greatest variety, beauty, and elegance; often, -likewise, of the most familiar, touching, or grotesque character. Among -these, birds are favourite images, especially the stork and the -falcon,—the two last that an English poet of the nineteenth century -would think of, but which happily remind us, as often as they are seen -here, of the country of the author, while they present pictures of times -gone by,—the stork having long ago deserted our shores, and falconry, -poetical and captivating as it is to the eye and the fancy, having been -abandoned in the fashionable rage for preserves, where game are bred -like poultry, and massacred by wholesale on field-days. Next to birds, -children are the darlings, in the similes, of this stern, and harsh, -and gloomy being, as he is often, though unjustly, represented to have -been. Amidst his most dazzling, terrific, or monstrous creations, these -little ones, in all their loveliness and hilarity, are introduced, to -re-invigorate the tired thoughts, and cool the over-heated imagination -with reminiscence of that which, in this world, may be looked upon with -the least pain, and which cannot be looked upon with pleasure without -our being the better for it; the love of children, and the delight of -seeing them happy, being a test of every other species of kindness -towards our fellow-creatures. -</p> - -<p> -It is unnecessary to pursue general criticism further. Any analysis of -the plot would be preposterous here; for nothing less than a progressive -abstract of the whole, with examples from every stage, would be -satisfactory, or indeed intelligible, to those who are not acquainted -with the original, or the translation into English by the Reverend -H. F. Cary, which may be said to fail in nothing except the -versification—and that, perhaps, only in consequence of the writer's -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">{Pg 59}</a></span> -attention to what constitutes the chief merit of his performance, fidelity -to the meaning of the text. -</p> - -<p> -It was the purpose of the writer of the foregoing memoir to have -concluded his strictures on the "Divina Commedia" with a series of -newly-translated specimens from the same (like the foregoing ones), in -the various kinds of style for which the author was distinguished, in -order to give the English reader some faint idea of this poet's very -peculiar manner of handling his subject, and the general cast of his -mind and mode of thinking: but the limits of the present work precluding -any further extension of this article, these are reserved, and may be -laid before the public at some future opportunity. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">{Pg 60}</a></span> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_1_1" id="Note_1_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a>The heaven of heavens.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_2_1" id="Note_2_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_2_1"><span class="label">[2]</span></a>The sun in the sign of the Twins.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_3_1" id="Note_3_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_3_1"><span class="label">[3]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2"> "S' io torni mai, Lettore, a quel devoto</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Trionfo, per lo quale io piango spesso</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Le mie peccata, e 'l petto mi percuoto,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Tu non avresti in tanto tratto e messo</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nel fuoco il dito, in quanto io vidi 'l segno.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che segue 'l tauro, e fui dentro da esso.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">O gloriose stelle! O lume pregno</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Di gran virtù, 'dal quale io riconosco</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Tutto (qual che si sia) il mio ingegno;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Con voi nasceva, e s'ascendeva vosco</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Quegli, ch' è padre d'ogni mortal vita,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Quand' io senti' da prima l'aer Tosco.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E poi quando mi fu grazia largita</span><br /> -<span class="i2">D'entrar nell' alta ruota che vi gira,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">La vostra región mi fu sortita.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">A voi divotamente ora sospira</span><br /> -<span class="i2">L' ánima mia, per aquistar virtute</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Al passo forte che a se la tira."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_4_1" id="Note_4_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_4_1"><span class="label">[4]</span></a>In religious processions on saint-days.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_5_1" id="Note_5_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_5_1"><span class="label">[5]</span></a>This passage is remarkable for having been imitated by -Spenser in his personification of Forgetfulness: he, however, makes the -feet and face at variance, which Dante does not, reversing the aspect of -the one and the motion of the other:—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"But very uncouth sight was to behold</span><br /> -<span class="i0">How he did fashion his untoward pace;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">For as he forward moved his footing old,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">To backward still was turn'd his wrinkled face,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Unlike to men, who, ever as they trace</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Both feet and face one way are wont to lead."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10"><i>Færie Queene</i>, book I. canto VIII. st. 31.</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -The latter clause of Dante's lines has been remembered by Milton;— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Sight so deform, what heart of man could long</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Dry-eyed behold?—Adam could not, but wept."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10"><i>Paradise Lost</i>, book XI. ver. 495.</span> -</div></div> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"E vidi gente per lo vallon tondo</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Venir, tacendo e lagrimando, al passo</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Che fanno le letane in questo mondo.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Come 'l viso mi scese in lor più basso,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Mirabilmente apparve esser travolto</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ciascim dal mento al principio del casso:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che dalle reni era tornato il volto,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ed indietro venir li convenia.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Perchè 'l veder dinanzi era lor tolto.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Forse per forza gia di parlasia</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Si travolse cosi alcún del tutto:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ma io noi vidi, ne credo che sia.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Se Dio ti lasci, lettor, prender frutto</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Di tua lezione, or pensa per te stesso</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Com' io potea tener lo viso asciutto,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Quando la nostra imagine da presso</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Vidi si torta, che 'l pianto degli occhi</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Le natiche bagnava per lo fesso."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_6_1" id="Note_6_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_6_1"><span class="label">[6]</span></a>According to his own intimation in the <i>Purgatorio</i>, canto -XXXII. ver. 2., where he speaks of his "eyes" being eager to relieve -themselves of their "<i>ten</i> years' thirst," on her spiritual appearance -to him;—the date of the visions being A. D. 1300, and the descent -into the lower regions represented as having been made on Good Friday, 1266 -years after the death of Christ.</p> - -<p>—<i>Inferno</i>, canto XXI.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_7_1" id="Note_7_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_7_1"><span class="label">[7]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Di varii fiori ad un gran monte passa,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ch' ebber già buono odore, or puzzan forte,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Questo era il dono (se però dir lece,)</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Che Constantino al buon Silvestro fece."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10"><i>Orlando Furioso</i>, canto XXXIV.</span> -</div></div> - -<p>Thus translated by Milton:—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Then pass'd he to a flowery mountain green,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously</span><br /> -<span class="i0">This was that gift (if you the truth will have)</span><br /> -<span class="i0">That Constantine to good Silvester gave."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Dante alludes, with bitterness, to the same unhappy gift, in three -lines, which Milton has also translated with more faithfulness than -felicity:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Ahi! Constantin, di quanto mal fu matre,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Non la tua conversion, ma quella dote,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Che da te prese il primo ricco patre."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">—<i>Dell' Inferno</i>, canto XIX.</span> -</div></div> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Ah Constantine! of how much ill was cause</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Not thy conversion, but those rich domains,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Which the first wealthy pope receiv'd of thee."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_8_1" id="Note_8_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_8_1"><span class="label">[8]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"I' vidi già cavalier muover campo,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E comminciare stormo, e far lor mostra,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E tal volta partir per loro scampo:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Corridor vidi per la terra vostra,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">O Aretini! e vidi gir gualdane,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ferir torneamenti, e correr giostra,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Quando con trombe, e quando con campane,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Con tamburi, e con cenni di castella,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E con cose nostrali, e con istrane:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ne già con si diversa cennamella,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Cavalier vidi muover, ne pedoni,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ne nave a segno di terra, o di stella.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Noi andavam con li dieci demoni;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ah! fiera compagnia!—ma nella chiesa</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Co' Santi, e in taverna co' ghiottoni."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_9_1" id="Note_9_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_9_1"><span class="label">[9]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Perch' i' mi mossi, e a lui venni ratto:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E i diavoli si fecer tutti avanti,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Si ch' io temetti non tenesser patto.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E cosi vid' io già temer li fanti,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ch' uscivan pattegiati di Caprona,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Veggendo se tra nemici cotanti.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">I' m'accostai con tutta la persona</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Lungo 'l mio duca, e non torceva gli occhi</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dalla sembianza lor, ch'era non buona."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_10_1" id="Note_10_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_10_1"><span class="label">[10]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Tu lascerai ogni cosa diletta</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Più caramente; e questo è quello strale,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che l'arco dell' esilio pria saetta.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Tu proverai sì come sa di sale</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Lo pane altrui, e com'è duro calle</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Lo scendere, e 'l salir per l'altrui scale.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E quel, che più ti graverà le spalle,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Sarà la campagnia malvagia e scempia,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Con la qual tu cadrai in questa valle:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Che tutta ingrata, tutta matta ed empia</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Si farà contra te: ma poco appresso</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ella, non tu, n'avrà rossa la tempia.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Di sua bestialitate il suo processo</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Farà la pruova, sì ch' a te fia bello</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Averti fatta parte per te stesso."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_11_1" id="Note_11_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_11_1"><span class="label">[11]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Quando vivea più glorioso, disse,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Liberamente nel campo di Siena,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ogni vergogna deposta, s'affisse:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Egli, per trar l'amico suo di pena,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che sostenea nella prigion di Carlo,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Si condusse a tremar per ogni vena.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Più non dirò, e scuro so che parlo;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ma poco tempo andià, che i tuoi vicini</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Faranno sì che tu potrai chiosarlo."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_12_1" id="Note_12_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_12_1"><span class="label">[12]</span></a>See Goldsmith's Traveller, towards the end.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_13_1" id="Note_13_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_13_1"><span class="label">[13]</span></a>A silly practical joke, which has probably been often -repeated in such parties, as it much resembles one told by Josephus -respecting the young Hyrcanus. In fact, there is scarcely "a good thing" -of this base class, which, on investigation, does not become apocryphal -from too much evidence.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_14_1" id="Note_14_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_14_1"><span class="label">[14]</span></a>See the Edinburgh Review, vol. XXX. p. 319.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_15_1" id="Note_15_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_15_1"><span class="label">[15]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Se mai continga che 'l poema sacro,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Al quale ha posto mano e cielo e terra,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Sì che m' ha fatto per più anni macro,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Vinca la crudeltà, che fuor mi serra</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Del bello ovile, ov' io dormì' agnello</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nimico a' lupi, che gli danno guerra;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Con altra voce omai, con altro vello</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ritornerò poeta, ed in sul fonte</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Del mio battemmo prenderò 'l capello;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Perocchè nella fede, che fa conte</span><br /> -<span class="i2">L'anime a Dio."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_16_1" id="Note_16_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_16_1"><span class="label">[16]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"I' vidi per le coste, e per lo fondo,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Piena la pietra livida di fori</span><br /> -<span class="i2">D'un largo tutti, e ciascuno era tondo.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Non mi parèn meno ampi, ne maggiori.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che quei, che son nel mio bel San Giovanni,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Fatti per luogo de' battezzatori;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">L'un degli quali, ancor non è molt' anni,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Rupp' io per un, che dentro v'annegava;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E questo sia suggel, ch' ogni uomo sganni."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_17_1" id="Note_17_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_17_1"><span class="label">[17]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"L'alba vinceva l'ora mattutina,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che fuggia 'npanzi, sì che di lontang</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Conobbi il tremolar della marina:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Noi andavam per lo solingo piano,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Com'uom, che torna alla smaritta strada,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che 'nfino ad essa li pare ire in vano.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Quando noi fummo, dove la rugiada</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Pugna col sole, e per essere in parte</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ove adorezza, poco si dirada,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ambo le mani in su l'erbetta sparte</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Soavemente 'l mio maestro pose;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ond'io che fui accorto di su' arte,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Porsi ver lui le guance lagrimose;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Quivi mi fece tutto discoverto</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Quel color, che l'inferno mi nascose."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_18_1" id="Note_18_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_18_1"><span class="label">[18]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Deh, quando tu sarai tornato al mondo,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E riposato della lunga via,</span><br /> -<span class="i10">* * * *</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ricorditi di me, che son la Pia:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Siena mi fé; disfecemi Maremma;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Salsi colui, che 'nnanellata pria,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Disposando m'avea con la sua gemma."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_19_1" id="Note_19_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_19_1"><span class="label">[19]</span></a>Canzoni are the larger odes of the Italians, composed -according to certain strict but exquisite rules; which, when rightly -observed, give admirable harmony and proportion to what may be called' -the architecture of the thoughts: the stanzas resembling columns of the -most perfect symmetry, which may be infinitely diversified, and of -considerable length, each new form constituting what may be termed a -different order.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_20_1" id="Note_20_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_20_1"><span class="label">[20]</span></a>Lord Byron, in his poem, "The Prophecy of Dante," (canto -II.) has the following noble apostrophe, which, as it refers to the -subject of the foregoing paragraph, and affords a fine English specimen -of the <i>terze rime</i>, in which the <i>Divina Commedia</i> is composed, -cannot be more opportunely introduced than in this place:—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Italia! ah! to me such things, foreshown</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With dim sepulchral light, bid me forget</span><br /> -<span class="i2">In thine irreparable wrongs my own:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">We can have but one country.—and even yet</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Thou'rt mine—my bones shall be within thy breast,</span><br /> -<span class="i2"><i>My soul within thy language</i>, which once set</span><br /> -<span class="i0">With our old Roman sway in the wide West;</span><br /> -<span class="i2"><i>But I will make another tongue arise</i></span><br /> -<span class="i2"><i>As lofty and more sweet,</i> in which exprest</span><br /> -<span class="i0">The hero's ardour, or the lover's sighs,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Shall find alike such sounds for every theme,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That every word, as brilliant as thy skies,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Shall realise a poet's proudest dream,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And make thee Europe's nightingale of song;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">So that all present speech to thine shall seem</span><br /> -<span class="i0">The note of meaner birds, and every tongue</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Confess its barbarism when compared with thine.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">This shalt thou owe to him thou didst so wrong.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">The Tuscan Bard, the banish'd Ghibelline."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_21_1" id="Note_21_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_21_1"><span class="label">[21]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Ma vedi là un'anima, ch'a posta,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Sola soletta verso noi riguarda;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Quella ne 'nsegnerà la via più tosta</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Venimmo a lei:—O anima Lombarda!</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Come ti stavi altera e disdegnosa,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E nel mover degli occhi onesta e tarda!</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ella non ci diceva alcuna cosa;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ma lasciavane gir, solo guardando</span><br /> -<span class="i2">A guisa di leon, quando si posa.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Pur Virgilio si trasse a lei, pregando,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che ne mostrasse la miglior salita;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E quella non rispose al suo dimando,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ma di nostro paese, e della vita</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Cinchiese; e 'l dolce duca incominciava,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'Mantova'—e l'ombra tutta in se romita,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Surse ver lui del luogo, ove 'pria stava,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dicendo, 'O Mantovano! io son Sordello</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Della tua terra; e l'un l'altro abbracciava."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_22_1" id="Note_22_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_22_1"><span class="label">[22]</span></a>Alluding, it is supposed, to the fact that Guido had -forsaken poetry for philosophy, or preferred the latter so much above -the former, as to think lightly of Virgil himself in comparison with -Aristotle.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_23_1" id="Note_23_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_23_1"><span class="label">[23]</span></a>He foretells Dante's own expulsion from his country within -fifty months.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_24_1" id="Note_24_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_24_1"><span class="label">[24]</span></a>The end of time, when their tombs were to be closed up.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_25_1" id="Note_25_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_25_1"><span class="label">[25]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"'O Tosco! che per la città del foco</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Vivo ten' vai così parlando onesto</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Piacciati di restare in questo loco:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">La tua loquela ti fa manifesto</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Di quella nobil patria natio,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Alla qual forse fui troppo molesto.'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Subitamente questo suono uscìo</span><br /> -<span class="i2">D'una dell' arche: pero m'accostai,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Temendo, un poco più al duco mio.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ed ei mi disse: 'Volgiti, che fai?</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Vedi là Farinata, che s' è dritto.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dalla cintola 'n su tutto 'l vedrai.'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Jo avea già 'l mio viso nel suo fitto;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ed ei s' ergea col petto, e con la fronte,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Come avesse lo 'nferno in gran dispitto;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E l' animose man del duca, e pronte,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Mi pinser tra le sepolture a lui;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dicendo: 'Le parole tue sien conte.'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Tosto ch' al piè della sua tomba fui,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Guardommi un poco, e poi, quasi disdegnoso,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Mi dimandò:—'Chi fur li maggior fui?'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Jo, ch' era d' ubbidir desideroso,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Non gliel celai, ma tutto gliele apersi:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ond' ei levò le ciglia un poco in soso:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Poi disse:—'Fieramente furo avversi</span><br /> -<span class="i2">A me, e à miei primi, e à mia parte,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Sì che per due fiate gli dispersi.'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">S' ei fur cacciati, e' tornar d' ogni parte,'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Risposi lui, l' una e l' altra fiata,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ma i vostri non appresser ben quell' arte.'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Allor surse alla vista scoperchiata</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Un' ombra lungo questo infino al mento;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Credo, che s' era inginocchion levata.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">D' intorno mi guardò, come talento</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Avesse di veder, s' altri era meco;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ma, poi che 'l sospicciar fu tutto spento,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Piangendo disse;—'Se per questo cieco</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Carcere vai per altezza d' ingegno,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Mio figlio ov' è, e perchè non è teco?'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ed io a lui: 'Da me stesso' non vegno;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Colui, ch' attende là, per qui mi mena,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Forse cui Guido vostro ebbe a disdegno.'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Le sue parole, e' l modo della pena</span><br /> -<span class="i2">M' avevan di costui già letto il nome;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Però fu la risposta così piena.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Di subito drizzato gridò;—'Come</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dicesti, egli ebbe? non viv' egli ancora?</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Non fiere gli occhi suoi lo dolce lome?'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Quando s' accorse d' alcuna dimora,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ch ' io faceva dinanzi alla risposta,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Supin ricadde, e più non parve fuora.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ma quell' altro magnanimo, a cui posta</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Restato m'era, non mutò aspetto,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ne’ mosse collo, ne’ piegò sua costa:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">'E se,' continuando al primo detto,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'Egli ban quell' arte, disse, male appresa</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ciò mi tormenta più che questo letto.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ma non cinquanta volte fia raccesa</span><br /> -<span class="i2">La faccia della donna, che qui regge,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che tu saprai quanto quell' arte pesa.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E se tu mai nel dolce mondo regge,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dimmi, perchè quel popol è si empio</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Incontr' a' miei in ciascun sua legge?'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ond' io a lui; 'Lo strazio e 'l grande scempio,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che fece 'l Arbia colorata in rosso,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Tale orazion fa far nel nostro tempio.'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Poi ch' ebbe sospirando il capo scosso,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'A ciò non fu' io sol, disse, nè certo</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Senza cagion sarei con gli altri mosso;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ma fu' io sol colà, dove sofferto</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Fu per ciascun di torre via Fiorenza,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Colui, che la difesi a viso aperto.'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">'Deh! se riposi mai vostra semenza!'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Prega' io lui, solvetemi quel nodo</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che qui ha inviluppata mia sentenza;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E’ par, che voi vegliate, se ben odo,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dinanzi quel, che 'l tempo seco adduce,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E nel presente tenete altro modo.'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Noi veggiam, come quei, ch' ha mala luce,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Le cose,' disse, 'che ne son lontano;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Cotaato ancor ne splende 'l sommo duce:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Quando 's appressano, o son, tutto è vano</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nostro 'ntelletto, e s' altri non ci apporta,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nulla sapem di vostro stato umano.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Però comprender puoi, che tutta morta</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Fia nostra conoscenza da quel punto,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che del futuro fia chiusa la porta.'</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Allor, come di mia colpa compunto,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dissi; 'Or direte dunque a quel caduto,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che 'l suo nato è coi vivi ancor congiunto;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E s' io io' dinanzi alla risposta muto,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Fat' ei saper, che 'l fei, perchè pensava</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Già nell' error, che m' avete soluto."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_26_1" id="Note_26_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_26_1"><span class="label">[26]</span></a>There are few instances (notwithstanding his tremendous -denunciations against bodies of men, the inhabitants of whole cities or -states) in which Dante forgets courtesy towards individual sufferers; -and, in general, he expresses the most honourable sympathy towards his -very enemies, when he finds them such. In the case of Bocca degli Abati, -who, at the battle of Monte Aperto, traitorously smote off the right -hand of the Florentine standard-bearer, the patriotic poet shows no -mercy; but having accidentally kicked him in the face as he stood wedged -up to the chin in ice, he afterwards tears the locks from the wretch's -head to make him tell his name;—forgetting, by the way, that in every -other case the spirits were intangible by him, though they appeared to -be bodily tormented.—Dell' Inferno, XXXII. And towards the friar -Alberigo de' Manfredi, who, having quarrelled with some of his brethren, -under pretence of desiring to be reconciled, invited them and others to -a feast, towards the conclusion of which, at the signal of the fruit -being brought in, a band of hired assassins rushed upon the guests and -murdered the selected victims on the spot; whence arose a saying, when a -person had been stabbed, that he had been served with some of Alberigo's -fruit:—towards this wretch Dante (by an ambiguous oath and promise to -relieve him from a crust of tears which had been frozen like a mask over -his face), having obtained his name, behaves with deliberate inhumanity, -leaving him as he found him, with this cool excuse,—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"E cortesia fu lui esser villano."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"'Twas courtesy to play the knave to him."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10"><i>Dell' Inferno</i>, canto XXXIII.</span> -</div></div></div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="PETRARCH">PETRARCH</a></h4> - -<p> -Francesco Petrarca was of Florentine extraction, and sprung from a -respectable family. His progenitors had been notaries. His great -grandfather has been distinguished for his integrity, benevolence, and -long life: his youth had been active, his old age was serene; he died in -his sleep when more than 100 years old, an age scarcely ever heard of in -Italy. His father exercised the same profession as those who had gone -before him; and, being held in great esteem by his fellow citizens, he -had filled several public offices. When the Ghibellines were banished -Florence in 1302, Petraccolo was included in the number of exiles; his -property was confiscated, and he retired with his wife, Eletta -Canigiani, whom he had lately married, to the town of Arezzo in Tuscany. -Two years after, the Ghibelline exiles endeavoured to reinstate -themselves in their native city by force of arms, but they failed in -their enterprise, and were forced to retreat. The attempt took place on -the night of the 20th of July, 1304; and, on returning discomfited on -the morrow, Petraccolo found that during the intervening hours his wife -had, after a period of great difficulty and danger, given birth to a -son. The child was baptized Francesco, and the surname of di Petracco -was added, as was the custom in those days, to distinguish him as the -son of Petracco. Orthography, at that time, was very inexact; and the -poet's ear for harmony caused him to give a more euphonious sound to his -patronymic: he wrote his name Petrarca, and by this he was known during -his life, and to all posterity. -</p> - -<p> -When the child was seven months old his mother 1305. was permitted to -return from banishment, and she established herself at a country house -belonging to her husband near Ancisa, a small town fifteen miles from -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">{Pg 61}</a></span> -Florence. The infant, who, at his birth, it was supposed, would not -survive, was exposed to imminent peril during this journey. In fording a -rapid stream, the man who had charge of him, carried him, wrapped in his -swaddling clothes, at the end of a stick; he fell from his horse, and -the babe slipped from the fastenings into the water; but he was saved, -for how could Petrarch die until he had seen Laura? His mother remained -for seven years at Ancisa. Petraccolo meanwhile wandered from place to -place, seeking to earn a subsistence, and endeavouring to forward the -Ghibeline cause. He visited his wife by stealth on various occasions, -and she gave birth during this period to two sons; one of whom died in -infancy, and the other, Gherardo, or Gerard, was the companion and -friend of Francesco for many years. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1312.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -8.</span></p> - -<p> -When Petrarch was eight years of age, his parents removed to Pisa, and -remained there for nearly a year; when, finding his party entirely -ruined, Petraccolo resolved to emigrate to Avignon; for, the pope having -fixed his residence in that city, it became a resort for the Italians, -who found it advantageous to follow his court. -<span class="sidenote1">1313.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -9.</span> -Petraccolo embarked with his wife and two children at Leghorn, and -proceeded by sea to Marseilles. They were wrecked and exposed to great -danger when not far from port; but landing at last in safety, they -proceeded to Avignon. The eyes of the young Petrarch had become familiar -with the stately cities of his native country: for the last year he had -lived at Pisa, where the marble palaces of the Lung' Arno, and the free -open squares surrounded by majestic structures, were continually before -him. The squalid aspect of the ill-built streets of Avignon were in -painful contrast; and thus that veneration for Italy, and contempt for -transalpine countries, which exercised a great influence over his future -life, was early implanted in Petrarch's heart. -</p> - -<p> -The papal court, and consequent concourse of strangers, filled Avignon -to overflowing, and rendered it an expensive place of residence. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">{Pg 62}</a></span> -<span class="sidenote2">1315.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -55.</span> -Accordingly Petraccolo quitted it for Carpentras, a small rural town -twelve miles distant. A Genoese named Settimo, lately arrived at Avignon -with his wife and young son, had formed an intimacy with Petraccolo, and -joined him in this fresh migration. -</p> - -<p> -The youth of Petrarch was obscure in point of fortune, but it was -attended by all the happiness that springs from family concord, and the -excellent character of his parents. His father was a man of probity and -talent, attentive to his son's education and improvement, and, at the -same time, kind and indulgent. His mother was distinguished for the -virtues that most adorn her sex; she was domestic, and affectionate in -her disposition; and he had two youthful friends, in his brother Gerard -and Guido Settimo, whom he tenderly loved. Add to this, he studied under -Convennole, a kind-hearted man, to whom he became warmly attached. Under -his care, and during several visits to Avignon, Petrarch learned as much -of grammar, dialectics, and rhetoric, as suited his age, or was taught -in the schools which he frequented; and how little that was, any one -conversant with the learning of those times can readily divine.<a name="NoteRef_27_1" id="NoteRef_27_1"></a><a href="#Note_27_1" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1319.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -15.</span></p> - -<p> -At the age of fifteen Petrarch was sent to study at the university of -Montpellier, then frequented by a vast concourse of students. Petraccolo -intended his son to pursue the study of the law, as the profession best -suited to insure his reputation and fortune; but to this pursuit -Francesco was invincibly repugnant. "It was not," he tells us, in the -account he wrote for the information of Posterity, "that I was not -pleased with the venerable authority of the laws, full, as they -doubtless are, of the spirit of ancient Rome, but because their use was -depraved by the wickedness of man; and it was tedious to learn that by -which I could not profit without dishonour." Petraccolo was alarmed by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">{Pg 63}</a></span> -the dislike shown by his son for the career for which he destined him, -and by the taste he displayed for literature. He made a journey to -Montpellier, reproached him for his idleness, and seizing on the -precious manuscripts, which the youth vainly endeavoured to hide, threw -them into the fire: but the anguish and cries of Petrarch moved him to -repent his severity: he snatched the remnants of Virgil and Cicero from -the flames, and gave them back, bidding him find consolation in the one, -and encouragement in the other, to pursue his studies. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1323.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -19.</span></p> - -<p> -He was soon after sent to Bologna. The chairs of this university were -filled by the ablest professors of the age; and, under them, Petrarch -made considerable progress in the study of the law, moved to this -exertion, doubtless, by the entreaties of his excellent father. He -proved that indolence was not the cause of his aversion to this -profession. His master of civil law, Cino da Pistoia, gives most -honourable testimony of his industry and talents. "I quickly discovered -and appreciated your genius," he says, in a letter written some time -after, "and treated you rather like a beloved son than as a pupil. You -returned my affection, and repaid me by observance and respect, and thus -gained a reputation among the professors and students for morality and -prudence. Your progress in study will never be forgotten in the -university. In the space of four years you learned by heart the entire -body of civil law, with as much facility as another would have acquired -the romance of Launcelot and Ginevra." -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1326.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -22.</span></p> - -<p> -After three years spent at Bologna, Petrarch was recalled to France by -the death of his father. Soon after his mother died also, and he and his -brother were left entirely to their own guidance, with very slender -means, and those diminished by the dishonesty of those whom their father -had named as trustees to their fortune. Under these circumstances -Petrarch entirely abandoned law, as it occurred to both him and his -brother that the clerical profession was their best resource in a city -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">{Pg 64}</a></span> -where the priesthood reigned supreme. They resided at Avignon, and -became the favourites and companions of the ecclesiastical and lay -nobles who formed the papal court, to a degree which, in after-times, -excited Petrarch's wonder, though the self-sufficiency and ardour of -youth then blinded him to the peculiar favour with which he was -regarded. His talents and accomplishments were, of course, the cause of -this distinction; besides that his personal advantages were such as to -prepossess every one in his favour. He was so handsome as frequently to -attract observation as he passed along the streets: his complexion was -between dark and fair; he had sparkling eyes, and a vivacious and -pleasing expression of countenance. His person was rather elegant than -robust; and he increased the gracefulness of his appearance by a -sedulous attention to dress. "Do you remember," he wrote to his brother -Gerard, many years after, "our white robes; and our chagrin when their -studied elegance suffered the least injury, either in the disposition of -their folds, or in their spotless cleanliness? do you remember our tight -shoes and how we bore the tortures which they inflicted, without a -murmur? and our care lest the breezes should disturb the arrangement of -our hair?" -</p> - -<p> -Such tastes befit the season of youth, which, always in extremes, is apt -otherwise to diverge into negligence and disorder. But Petrarch could -not give up his entire mind to frivolity and the pleasures of society: -he sought the intercourse of the wise, and his warm and tender heart -attached itself with filial or fraternal affection to his good and -learned friends. Among these was John of Florence, canon of Pisa, a -venerable man, devoted to learning, and passionately attached to his -native country. With him Petrarch could recur to his beloved studies and -antique manuscripts. Sometimes, however, the young man was seized with -the spirit of despondency. During such a mood, he had one day recourse -to his excellent friend, and poured out his heart in complaints. "You -know," he said, "the pains I have taken to distinguish myself from the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">{Pg 65}</a></span> -crowd, and to acquire a reputation for knowledge. You have often told me -that I am responsible to God for the use I make of my talents; and your -praises have spurred me on to exertion: but I know not why, even at the -moment when I hoped for success in my endeavours, I find myself -dispirited, and the sources of my understanding dried up. I stumble at -every step; and in my despair I have recourse to you. Advise me. Shall I -give up my studies? shall I enter on another career? Have pity on me, my -father: raise me from the frightful condition into which I have fallen." -</p> - -<p> -Petrarch shed tears as he spoke; but the old man encouraged him with -sagacity and kindness. He told him that his best hopes for improvement -must be founded on the discovery he had made of his ignorance. "The veil -is now raised," he said, "and you perceive the darkness which was before -concealed by the presumption of youth. Embark upon the sea before you: -the further you advance, the more immense it will appear; but do not be -deterred. Follow the course which I have counselled you to take, and be -persuaded that God will not abandon you." -</p> - -<p> -These words re-assured Petrarch, and gave fresh strength to his good -intentions. The incident is worthy of record, as giving a lively picture -of an ingenuous and ambitious mind struggling with and overcoming the -toils of learning. -</p> - -<p> -At this period commenced his friendship with Giacomo Colonna, who had -resided at Bologna at the same time with him, and had even then been -attracted by his prepossessing appearance and irreproachable conduct, -though he did not seek to be acquainted with him till their return to -Avignon. -</p> - -<p> -The family of Colonna was the most illustrious of Rome: they had fallen -under the displeasure, and incurred the interdict, of pope Boniface -VIII. who confiscated their estates and drove them into exile. The head -of the family was Stefano, a man of heroic and magnanimous mind. He -wandered for many years a banished man in France and Germany, and a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">{Pg 66}</a></span> -price was set on his head. On one occasion, a band of armed men, -desirous of earning the ill reward attendant on delivering him up to his -enemies, seized on him, and asked his name, under the belief that he -would fear to acknowledge himself. He replied, "I am Stefano Colonna, a -citizen of Rome;" and the mercenaries into whose hands he had fallen, -struck by his majesty and resolution, set him free. On another occasion, -he appeared suddenly in Italy, on a field of battle, to aid his own -party against the papal forces. Being surrounded and pressed upon by his -foes, one of his friends exclaimed, "O, Stefano, where is your -fortress?" He placed his hand upon his heart, and with a smile replied, -"Here!" This illustrious man had a family of ten children, all -distinguished by their virtues and talents. The third among them was -Giacomo. Petrarch describes his friend in glowing colours. "He was," he -says, "generous, faithful, and true; modest, though endowed with -splendid talents; handsome in person, yet of irreproachable conduct: he -possessed, moreover, the gift of eloquence to an extraordinary degree; -so that he held the hearts of men in his hands, and carried them along -with him by force of words." Petrarch was readily ensnared in the net of -his fascinations. Giacomo introduced his new friend to his brother, the -cardinal Giovanni Colonna, under whose roof he subsequently spent many -years, and who acted towards him, not as a master, but rather as a -partial brother.<a name="NoteRef_28_1" id="NoteRef_28_1"></a><a href="#Note_28_1" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> Petrarch records the kindness of his patrons, in -the language of enthusiastic gratitude. Doubtless, they deserved the -encomiums of his free spirit, a spirit to be subdued only by the power -of affection. We must, however, consider them peculiarly fortunate in -being able to command the society of one whose undeviating integrity, -whose gentleness, and fidelity, adorned talents which have merited -eternal renown. The peculiar charm of Petrarch's character is warmth of -heart, and a native ingenuousness of disposition, which readily laid -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">{Pg 67}</a></span> -bare his soul to those around: there was nothing factitious, nothing put -on for show, in the temper of his mind; he desired to be great and good -in God's eyes, and in those of his friends, for conscience sake, and as -the worthy aim of a Christian man. He did not, therefore, wish to hide -his imperfections; but rather sought them out, that he might bring a -remedy; and betrayed the uneasiness they occasioned, with the utmost -simplicity and singleness of mind. When to this delightful frankness -were added splendid talents, the charm of poetry, so highly valued in -the country of the Troubadours, an affectionate and generous -disposition, vivacious and engaging manners, and an attractive exterior; -we cannot wonder that Petrarch was the darling of his age, the associate -of its greatest men, and the man whom princes delighted to honour. -</p> - -<p> -Hitherto the feelings of friendship had engrossed him: love had not yet -robbed him of sleep, nor dimmed his eyes with tears; and he wondered to -behold such weakness in others.<a name="NoteRef_29_1" id="NoteRef_29_1"></a><a href="#Note_29_1" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> Now at the age of twenty-three, -after the fire of mere boyhood had evaporated, he felt the power of a -violent and inextinguishable passion. -<span class="sidenote1">1327.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -23.</span> -At six in the morning, on the 6th of April, A. D. 1327 (he often fondly -records the exact year, day, and hour), on occasion of the festival of -Easter, he visited the church of Sainte Claire at Avignon, and beheld, -for the first time, Laura de Sâde. She was just twenty years of age, -and in the bloom of beauty,—a beauty so touching and heavenly, so -irradiated by purity and smiling innocence, and so adorned by gentleness -and modesty, that the first sight stamped the image in the poet's heart, -never hereafter to be erased. -</p> - -<p> -Laura was the daughter of Audibert de Noves, a noble and a knight: she -lost her father in her early youth; and at the age of seventeen, her -mother married her to Hugh de Sâde, a young noble only a few years -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">{Pg 68}</a></span> -older than his bride. She was distinguished by her rank and fortune, but -more by her loveliness, her sweetness, and the untainted purity of her -life and manners in the midst of a society noted for its -licentiousness.<a name="NoteRef_30_1" id="NoteRef_30_1"></a><a href="#Note_30_1" class="fnanchor">[30]</a> Now she is known as the subject of Petrarch's -verses; as the woman who inspired an immortal passion, and, kindling -into living fire the dormant sensibility of the poet, gave origin to the -most beautiful and refined, the most passionate, and yet the most -delicate, amatory poetry that exists in the world. -</p> - -<p> -Petrarch beheld the loveliness and sweetness of the young beauty, and -was transfixed. He sought acquaintance with her; and while the manners -of the times prevented his entering her house<a name="NoteRef_31_1" id="NoteRef_31_1"></a><a href="#Note_31_1" class="fnanchor">[31]</a>, he enjoyed many -opportunities of meeting her in society, and of conversing with her. He -would have declared his love, but her reserve enforced silence. "She -opened my breast," he writes, "and took my heart into her hand, saying, -'Speak no word of this.'" Yet the reverence inspired by her modesty and -dignity was not always sufficient to restrain her lover: being alone -with her, and she appearing more gracious than usual, Petrarch, on one -occasion, tremblingly and fearfully confessed his passion, but she, with -altered looks, replied, "I am not the person you take me for!" Her -displeasure froze the very heart of the poet, so that he fled from her -presence in grief and dismay.<a name="NoteRef_32_1" id="NoteRef_32_1"></a><a href="#Note_32_1" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">{Pg 69}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -No attentions on his part could make any impression on her steady and -virtuous mind. While love and youth drove him on, she remained -impregnable and firm; and when she found that he still rushed wildly -forward, she preferred forsaking, to following him to the precipice down -which he would have hurried her. Meanwhile, as he gazed on her angelic -countenance, and saw purity painted on it, his love grew as spotless as -herself. Love transforms the true lover into a resemblance of the object -of his passion. In a town, which was the asylum of vice, calumny never -breathed a taint upon Laura's name: her actions, her words, the very -expression of her countenance, and her slightest gestures were replete -with a modest reserve combined with sweetness, and won the applause of -all.<a name="NoteRef_33_1" id="NoteRef_33_1"></a><a href="#Note_33_1" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> -</p> - -<p> -The passion of Petrarch was purified and exalted at the same time. Laura -filled him with noble aspirations, and divided him from the common herd. -He felt that her influence made him superior to vulgar ambition; and -rendered him wise, true, and great. She saved him in the dangerous -period of youth, and gave a worthy aim to all his endeavours. The -manners of his age permitted one solace; a Platonic attachment was the -fashion of the day. The troubadours had each his lady to adore, to wait -upon, and to celebrate in song; without its being supposed that she made -him any return beyond a gracious acceptance of his devoirs, and the -allowing him to make her the heroine of his verses. Petrarch endeavoured -to merge the living passion of his soul into this airy and unsubstantial -devotion. Laura permitted the homage: she perceived his merit, and was -proud of his admiration; she felt the truth of his affection, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">{Pg 70}</a></span> -indulged the wish of preserving it and her own honour at the same time. -Without her inflexibility, this had been a dangerous experiment: but she -always kept her lover distant from her: rewarding his reserve by smiles, -and repressing by frowns all the overflowings of his heart. -</p> - -<p> -By her resolute severity, she incurred the danger of ceasing to be the -object of his attachment, and of losing the gift of an immortal name, -which he has conferred upon her. But Petrarch's constancy was proof -against hopelessness and time. He had too fervent an admiration of her -qualities, ever to change: he controlled the vivacity of his feelings, -and they became deeper rooted. The struggle cost him his peace of mind. -From the moment that love had seized upon his heart, the tenor of his -life was changed. He fed upon tears, and took a fatal pleasure in -complaints and sighs; his nights became sleepless, and the beloved name -dwelt upon his lips during the hours of darkness. He desired death, and -sought solitude, devouring there his own heart. He grew pale and thin, -and the flower of youth faded before its time. The day began and closed -in sorrow; the varieties of her behaviour towards him alone imparted joy -or grief, he strove to flee and to forget; but her memory became, and -for ever remained, the ruling law of his existence.<a name="NoteRef_34_1" id="NoteRef_34_1"></a><a href="#Note_34_1" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> -</p> - -<p> -From this time his poetic life is dated. He probably composed verses -before he saw Laura; but none have been preserved except such as -celebrate his passion. How soon, after seeing her, he began thus to pour -forth his full heart, cannot be told; probably love, which turns the man -of the most prosaic temperament into a versifier, impelled him, at its -birth, to give harmonious expression to the rush of thought and feeling -that it created. Latin was in use among the learned; but ladies, -unskilled in a dead language, were accustomed to be sung by the -Troubadours in their native Provençal dialect. Petrarch loved Italy, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">{Pg 71}</a></span> -all things Italian—he perceived the melody, the grace, the -earnestness, which it could embody. The residence of the popes at Avignon -caused it to be generally understood; and in the language of his native -Florence, the poet addressed his lady, though she was born under a less -favoured sky. His sonnets and canzoni obtained the applause they deserved: -they became popular: and he, no doubt, hoped that the description of his -misery, his admiration, his almost idolatry, would gain him favour in -Laura's heart. -</p> - -<p> -Petrarch had always a great predilection for travelling: the paucity of -books rendered this a mode,—in his eyes, almost the only -mode,—for the attainment of the knowledge for which his nature -craved. The first journey he made after his return from Bologna, was to -accompany Giacomo Colonna on his visit to the diocese of Lombes, of -which he had lately been installed bishop. Lombes is a small town of -Languedoc, not far from Thoulouse; it had been erected into a bishopric -by pope John XXII., who conferred it on Giacomo Colonna, in recompence -of an act of intrepid daring successfully achieved in his behalf. -<span class="sidenote1">1330.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -26.</span> -It was the summer season, and the travellers proceeded through the most -picturesque part of France, among the Pyrenees, to the banks of the -Garonne. Besides Petrarch, the bishop was accompanied by Lello, the son -of Pietro Stefani, a Roman gentleman; and a Frenchman named Louis. The -friendship that Petrarch formed with both, on this occasion, continued -to the end of their lives: many of his familiar letters are addressed to -them under the appellations of Lælius and Socrates; for Petrarch's -contempt of his own age gave him that tinge of pedantry which caused him -to confer on his favourites the names of the ancients. Lello was a man -of education and learning; he had long lived under the protection of the -Colonna family, by the members of which he was treated as a son or -brother. The transalpine birth of Louis made Petrarch call him a -barbarian; but he found him cultivated and refined, endowed with a -lively imagination, a gay temper, and addicted to music and poetry. In -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">{Pg 72}</a></span> -the society of these men, Petrarch passed a divine summer; it was one of -those periods in his life, towards which his thoughts frequently turned -in after-times with yearning and regret.<a name="NoteRef_35_1" id="NoteRef_35_1"></a><a href="#Note_35_1" class="fnanchor">[35]</a> -</p> - -<p> -On his return from Lombes, Petrarch became an inmate in the house of -cardinal Colonna. He had leisure to indulge in his taste for literature: -he was unwearied in the labour of discovering, collating, and copying -ancient manuscripts. To him we owe the preservation of many Latin -authors, which, buried in the dust of monastic libraries, and endangered -by the ignorance of their monkish possessors, had been wholly lost to -the world, but for the enthusiasm and industry of a few learned men, -among whom Petrarch ranks pre-eminent. He thought no toil burthensome, -however arduous, which drew from oblivion these monuments of former -wisdom. Often he would not trust to the carelessness of copyists, but -transcribed these works with his own hand. His library was lost to the -world, after his death, through the culpable negligence of the republic -of Venice, to which he had given it; but there still exists, in the -Laurentian library of Florence, the orations of Cicero, and his letters -to Atticus in Petrarch's handwriting. -</p> - -<p> -His ardour for acquiring knowledge was unbounded,—the society of a -single town, and the few hooks that he possessed, could not satisfy him. -He believed that travelling was the best school for learning. His great -desire was to visit Rome; and a journey hither was projected by him and -the bishop of Lombes. Delays intervening, which prevented their -immediate departure, Petrarch made the tour of France, Flanders, and -Brabant: -<span class="sidenote2">1331.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -27.</span> -"For which journey," he says, "whatever cause may have been alleged, the -real motive was a fervent desire of extending my experience."<a name="NoteRef_36_1" id="NoteRef_36_1"></a><a href="#Note_36_1" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> He -first visited Paris, and took pleasure in satisfying himself of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">{Pg 73}</a></span> -truth or falsehood of the accounts he had heard of that city. His -curiosity was insatiable; when the day did not suffice, he devoted the -night to his enquiries. He found the city ill built and disagreeable, -but he was pleased with the inhabitants; describing them, as a traveller -might of the present day, as gay, and fond of society; facile and -animated in conversation, and amiable in their assemblies and feasts; -eager in their search after amusement, and driving away care by -pleasure; prompt to discover and to ridicule the faults of others, and -covering their own with a thick veil.<a name="NoteRef_37_1" id="NoteRef_37_1"></a><a href="#Note_37_1" class="fnanchor">[37]</a> -</p> - -<p> -From Paris, Petrarch continued his travels through Liege, -Aix-la-Chapelle, and Cologne. In all places he searched for ancient -manuscripts. At Liege he discovered two orations of Cicero, but could -not find any one capable of copying them in the whole town: it was with -difficulty that he procured some yellow and pale ink, with which he -transcribed them himself.<a name="NoteRef_38_1" id="NoteRef_38_1"></a><a href="#Note_38_1" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> From Cologne he turned his steps homeward, -passing through Ardennes on his way to Lyons. His heart warmed at the -expectation of returning to his friends; and the image of Laura took -possession of his imagination. Whilst wandering alone through the wild -forest, which armed men feared to traverse, no idea of danger occurred -to him; love occupied all his thoughts: the form of Laura flitted among -the trees; and the waving branches, and the song of birds, and the -murmuring streams, made her movements and her voice present to his -senses with all the liveliness of reality. Twilight closed in, and -imparted a portion of dismay, till, emerging from the dark trees, he -beheld the Rhone, which threaded the plains towards the native town of -the lady of his love; and at sight of the familiar river, a joyous -rapture took place of gloom. Two of the most graceful of his sonnets -were written to describe the fantastic images that haunted him as he -traversed the forest, and the kindling of his soul when, emerging from -its depths, he was, as it were serenely welcomed by the delightful -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">{Pg 74}</a></span> -country and beloved river which appeared before him.<a name="NoteRef_39_1" id="NoteRef_39_1"></a><a href="#Note_39_1" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> -</p> - -<p> -At Lyons a disappointment awaited him: he met, on his arrival, a servant -of the Colonna family, whom he eagerly questioned concerning his -friends; and heard, to his infinite mortification, that Giacomo had -departed for Italy, without waiting for his return. Deeply hurt by this -apparent neglect, he wrote a letter to the bishop, full of bitter -reproaches, which he enclosed to cardinal Colonna, to be forwarded to -his brother; while he delayed somewhat his homeward journey, spending -some weeks at Lyons. He was absent from Avignon, on this occasion, -scarcely more than three months. -</p> - -<p> -On his return, he found that Giacomo Colonna was not to blame; he having -repaired to Rome by command of the pope, that he might pacify the -discontented citizens, and quell the disturbances occasioned by the -insurgent nobles. Petrarch did not immediately join his friend: he had a -duty to perform towards cardinal Colonna; and the chains which Laura -threw around him, made him slow to quit a city which she inhabited. -<span class="sidenote2">1335.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -31.</span> -At length he embarked, and proceeded by sea to Cività Vecchia. The -troubled state of the country around Rome rendered it unsafe for a -solitary traveller. Petrarch took refuge in the romantic castle of -Capranica, and wrote to his friends, announcing his arrival. They came -instantly to welcome and escort him. Petrarch at length reached the city -of his dreams. His excited imagination had painted the fallen mistress -of the world in splendid colours; and, warned by his friends, he had -feared disappointment. But the sight of Rome produced no such effect: he -was too real a poet, not to look with awe and reverence on the mighty -and beautiful remains which meet the wanderer's eye at every turn in the -streets of Rome. Petrarch's admiration grew, instead of diminishing. He -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">{Pg 75}</a></span> -found the eternal city greater and more majestic in her ruins than he -had before figured; and, instead of wondering how it was that she had -given laws to the whole earth, he was only surprised that her supremacy -had not been more speedily acknowledged.<a name="NoteRef_40_1" id="NoteRef_40_1"></a><a href="#Note_40_1" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> -</p> - -<p> -He found inexhaustible gratification in contemplating the magnificent -ruins scattered around. He was accompanied in his researches by Giovanni -da San Vito, brother of Stefano Colonna, who, enveloped in the exile of -his family, had wandered for many years in Persia, Arabia, and Egypt. -Stefano Colonna himself resided in the capital; and Petrarch found in -him an image of those majestic heroes who illustrated the annals of -ancient Rome. -</p> - -<p> -On leaving Italy, Petrarch gratified his avidity for travel by a long -journey through Spain to Cadiz, and northward, by the sea-shore, as far -as the coasts of England. He went to escape from the chains which -awaited him at Avignon; and, seeking a cure for the wounds which his -heart had received, he endeavoured to obtain health and liberty by -visiting distant countries. It is thus that he speaks of this tour in -his letters. But, though he went far, he did not stay long; for, on the -l6th of August of the same year, he returned to Avignon. -</p> - -<p> -He came back with the same feelings; and grew more and more dissatisfied -with himself, and the state of agitation and slavery to which the -vicinity of Laura reduced him. The young wife was now the mother of a -family, and more disinclined than ever to tarnish her good name, or to -endanger her peace, by the sad vicissitudes of illicit passion. -Disturbed, and struggling with himself, Petrarch sought various remedies -for the ill that beset him. -<span class="sidenote1">April 20.<br /> -1336.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -32.</span> -Among other attempts to divert his thoughts, he made an excursion to -Mont Ventoux, one of the highest mountains Europe; which, placed in a -country where every other hill is much lower, commands a splendid and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">{Pg 76}</a></span> -extensive view. There is a letter of his to his friend and spiritual -director, father Dionisio Robertis, of San Sepolcro, whom he knew in -Paris, giving an account of the expedition. It was a work of labour to -climb the precipitous mountain; with difficulty, and after many -fatiguing deviations from the right road, he reached its summit. He -gazed around on the earth, spread like a map below; he fixed his eyes on -the Alps, which divided him from Italy; and then, reverting to himself, -he thought—"Ten years ago you quitted Bologna: how are you changed -since then!" The purity of the air, and the vast prospect before him, -gave subtlety and quickness to his perceptions. He reflected on the -agitation of his soul, but not yet arrived in port, he felt that he -ought not to let his thoughts dwell on the tempests that shook his -nature. He thought of her he loved, not, as before, with hope and -animation, but with a sad struggling love, for which he blushed. He -would have changed his feeling to hate; but such an attempt were vain: -he felt ashamed and desperate, as he repeated the verse of Ovid— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Odero, si potero; si non, invitus amabo."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -For three years this passion had reigned over him without control: he -now combated it; but his struggles saddened, while they sobered him. -Again he turned his eyes from his own heart to the scene around. As the -sun declined, he regarded the vast expanse of the distant Mediterranean, -the long chain of mountains which divides France from Spain, and the -Rhone which flowed at his feet. He feasted his eyes long on this -glorious spectacle, while pious emotions filled his bosom. He had taken -with him (for Petrarch was never without a book) the volume of St. -Augustin's Confessions: he opened it by chance, and his eyes fell on the -following passage:—-"Men make journeys to visit the summits of -mountains, the waves of the sea, the course of rivers, and the immensity -of ocean, while they neglect their own souls." Struck by the -coincidence, Petrarch turned his thoughts inward, and prayed that he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">{Pg 77}</a></span> -might be enabled to vanquish himself. The moon shone upon their descent -from the mountain (he was accompanied by his brother Gerard, whom he had -selected from among his friends to join him in his excursion); and -arriving at Maulaçene, a town at the foot of Mont Ventoux, Petrarch -relieved his mind by pouring out his heart in a letter to Dionisio -Robertis. -</p> - -<p> -The immediate result of the reflections thus awakened, was his -retirement to Vaucluse. When a boy, he had visited this picturesque -valley and its fountain, in company with his father, mother, and -brother. He had then been charmed by its beauty and seclusion: and now, -weary of travelling, and resolved to fly from Laura, he took refuge in -the solitude he could here command. -</p> - -<p> -He bought a small house and field, removed his books, and established -himself. Since then Vaucluse has been often visited for his sake; and he -who was enchanted by its loneliness and beauty, has described, in -letters and verses, with fond and glowing expressions, the charm that it -possessed for him. The valley is narrow, as its name testifies—shut -in by high and craggy hills; the river Sorgue traverses its depth; and on -one side, a vast cavern in the precipitous rock presents itself, from -which the fountain flows, that is the source of the river. Within the -cave, the shadows are black as night; the hills are clothed by -umbrageous trees, under whose shadow the tender grass, starred by -innumerable flowers, offers agreeable repose. The murmur of the torrent -is perennial: that, and the song of the birds, are the only sounds -heard. Such was the retreat that the poet chose. He saw none but the -peasants who took care of his house and tended his little farm. The only -woman near was the hard-working wife of the peasant, old and withered. -No sounds of music visited his ears: he heard, instead, the carolling of -the birds, and the brawling waters. Often he remained in silence from -morning till night, wandering among the hills while the sun was yet low; -and taking refuge, during the heat of the day, in his shady garden, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">{Pg 78}</a></span> -which, sloping down towards the Sorgue, was terminated on one side by -inaccessible rocks. At night, after performing his clerical duties (for -he was canon of Lombes), he rambled among the hills; often entering, at -midnight, the cavern, whose gloom, even during the day, struck the soul -with awe. -</p> - -<p> -The peasantry about him were poor and hard-working. His food was usually -black bread; and he was so abstemious, that the servant he brought with -him from Avignon quitted him, unable to endure the solitude and -privations of his retreat. He was then waited on by the neighbouring -cottager, a fisherman, whose life had been spent among fountains and -rivers, deriving his subsistence from the rocks. "To call this man -faithful," says Petrarch, "is a tame expression: he was fidelity -itself." Without being able to read, he revered and cherished the books -his master loved; and, all rude and illiterate, his pious regard for the -poet raised him almost to the rank of a friend. His wife was yet more -rustic. Her skin was burned by the sun till it resembled nothing human. -She was humble, faithful, and laborious; passing her life in the fields, -working under the noonday sun; while the evening was dedicated to indoor -labour. She never complained, nor ever showed any mark of discontent. -She slept on straw: her food was the coarsest black bread; her drink -water, in which she mingled a little wine, as sour as vinegar. -</p> - -<p> -It was here that Petrarch hoped to subdue his passion, and to forget -Laura. "Fool that I was!" he exclaims in after-life, "not to have -remembered the first schoolboy lesson—that solitude is the nurse of -love!" How, with his thoughts for his sole companions, preying -perpetually on his own heart, could he forget her who occupied him -exclusively in courts and cities? And thus he tells, in musical and -thrilling accents, how, amidst woods, and hills, and murmuring waves, -her image was painted on every object, and contemplated by him till he -forgot himself to stone, more dead than the living rocks among which he -wandered. It is almost impossible to translate Petrarch's poetry; for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">{Pg 79}</a></span> -his subtle and delicate thoughts, when generalised, seem common-place; -and his harmony and grace, which have never been equalled, are -inimitable. The only translations which retain the spirit of the -original, are by lady Dacre; and we extract her version of one of the -canzoni, as a specimen of his style, and as affording a vivid picture of -his wild melancholy life among the solitary mountains. -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"From hill to hill I roam, from thought to thought,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With Love my guide; the beaten path I fly,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">For there in vain the tranquil life is sought:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">If 'mid the waste well forth a lonely rill,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Or deep embosom'd a low valley lie,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">In its calm shade my trembling heart is still;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And there, if Love so will,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I smile, or weep, or fondly hope or fear,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">While on my varying brow, that speaks the soul,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The wild emotions roll,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Now dark, now bright, as shifting skies appear;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That whosoe'er has proved the lover's state</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Would say, 'He feels the flame, nor knows his future fate.'</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"On mountains high, in forests drear and wide,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I find repose, and from the throng'd resort</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of man turn fearfully my eyes aside;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">At each lone step thoughts ever new arise</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of her I love, who oft with cruel sport</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Will mock the pangs I bear, the tears, the sighs;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Yet e'en these ills I prize,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Though bitter, sweet—nor would they were removed;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">For my heart whispers me, 'Love yet has power</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To grant a happier hour:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Perchance, though self-despised, thou yet art loved.'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E'en then my breast a passing sigh will heave,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ah! when, or how, may I a hope so wild believe?</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Where shadows of high rocking pines dark wave,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I stay my footsteps; and on some rude stone,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With thought intense, her beauteous face engrave:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Roused from the trance, my bosom bathed I find</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With tears, and cry, 'Ah! whither thus alone</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Hast thou far wander'd? and whom left behind?'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But as with fixed mind</span><br /> -<span class="i2">On this fair image I impassion'd rest,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And, viewing her, forget awhile my ills,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Love my rapt fancy fills;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">In its own error sweet the soul is blest,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">While all around so bright the visions glide;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">O! might the cheat endure,—I ask not aught beside.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Her form portray'd within the lucid stream</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Will oft appear, or on the verdant lawn,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Or glossy beech, or fleecy cloud, will gleam</span><br /> -<span class="i2">So lovely fair, that Leda's self might say,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Her Helen sinks eclipsed, as at the dawn</span><br /> -<span class="i2">A star when cover'd by the solar ray:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And, as o'er wilds I stray,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Where the eye nought but savage nature meets,</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">{Pg 80}</a></span> -<span class="i2">There Fancy most her brightest tints employs;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But when rude truth destroys</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The loved illusion of those dreamed sweets,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I sit me down on the cold rugged stone,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Less cold, less dead than I, and think and weep alone.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Where the huge mountain rears his brow sublime,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">On which no neighbouring height its shadow flings,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Led by desire intense the steep I climb;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And tracing in the boundless space each woe,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Whose sad remembrance my torn bosom wrings.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Tears, that bespeak the heart o'erfraught, will flow.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">While viewing all below,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">From me, I cry, what worlds of air divide</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The beauteous form, still absent and still near!</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Then chiding soft the tear,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I whisper, low, haply she, too, has sigh'd</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That thou art far away; a thought so sweet</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Awhile my labouring soul will of its burden cheat.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Go thou, my song, beyond that Alpine bound,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Where the pure smiling heavens are most serene:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">There, by a murmuring stream, may I be found,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Whose gentle airs around</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Waft grateful odours from the laurel green;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nought but my empty form roams here unblest.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">There dwells my heart with her who steals it from my breast."<a name="NoteRef_41_1" id="NoteRef_41_1"></a><a href="#Note_41_1" class="fnanchor">[41]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Petrarch's Italian poetry, written either to please his lady or to -relieve the overflowing of his hearty bears in every line the stamp of -warm and genuine, though of refined and chivalric, passion. It has been -criticised as too imaginative, and defaced by conceits: of the latter -there are a few, confined to a small portion of the sonnets. They will -not be admired now, yet, perhaps, they are not those of the poems which -came least spontaneously from the heart. Those have experienced little -of the effects of passion, of love, grief, or terror, who do not know -that conceits often spring naturally from such. Shakspeare knew this; -and he seldom describes the outbursts of passion unaccompanied by -fanciful imagery which borders on conceit. Still more false is the -notion, that passion is not, in its essence, highly imaginative. Hard -and dry critics, who neither feel themselves nor sympathise in the -feelings of others, alone can have made this accusation: these people, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">{Pg 81}</a></span> -whose inactive and colourless fancy naturally suggests no new -combination nor fresh tint of beauty, suppose that is a cold exercise of -the mind, when -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"The poet's eye, in a fine frenzy rolling,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -As they with difficulty arrive at comprehending poetic creations, they -believe that they were produced by dint of hard labour and deep study. -The truth is the opposite of this. To the imaginative, fanciful imagery -and thoughts, whose expression seems steeped in the hues of dawn, are -natural and unforced: when the mind of such is calm, their conceptions -resemble those of other men; but when excited by passion, when love, or -patriotism, or the influence of nature, kindles the soul, it becomes -natural, nay, imperative to them to embody their thoughts, and to give -"a local habitation and a name" to the emotions that possess them. The -remarks of critics on the overflowings of poetic minds remind one of the -traveller who expressed such wonder when, on landing at Calais, he heard -little children talk French. -</p> - -<p> -Petrarch, on the other hand, would deceive us, or rather deceived -himself, when he alludes depreciatingly to his Italian poetry. Latin was -the language of learned men: he deemed it degrading to write for the -people; and, fancying that the difficulty of writing Latin was an -obstacle glorious to overcome, he treated with disdain any works -expressed in the vulgar tongue. Yet even while he said that these -compositions were puerile, he felt in his heart the contrary. He -bestowed great pains on correcting them, and giving them that polished -grace for which they are remarkable. Still his reason (which in this -instance, as in others, is often less to be depended upon than our -intuitive convictions,) assured him that he could never hold a high -place among poets till he composed a Latin poem. -</p> - -<p> -While living in solitude at Vaucluse, yet ambitious that the knowledge -of his name should pass beyond the confines of his narrow valley, and be -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">{Pg 82}</a></span> -heard even in Italy, he meditated some great work worthy of the genius -he felt within him. He at first contemplated writing a history of Rome; -from Romulus to Titus; till one day the idea of an epic poem; on the -subject of his favourite hero. Scipio Africanus, struck him. He -instantly commenced it with all the ardour of a first conception, and -continued for some time to build up cold dull Latin hexameters. It is -curious to mark how ill he succeeded: but the structure and spirit of -the language he used was then totally unknown; so that, while we lament -the mis-spending of his time, we cannot wonder at his failure. -</p> - -<p> -He passed several years thus almost cut off from society: his books were -his great resource; he was never without one in his hand. He relates in -a letter, how, as a playful experiment, a friend locked up his library, -intending to exclude him from it for three days; but the poet's misery -caused him to restore the key on the first evening:—"And I verily -believe I should have become insane," Petrarch writes, "if my mind had -been longer deprived of its necessary nourishment." The friend who thus -played with his passion for reading, was Philip de Cabassoles, bishop of -Cavaillon. Cavaillon is a pretty but insignificant town, situated on the -slope of a mountain near the Durance, twelve miles distant from Avignon, -and six from Vaucluse. He became intimate with Petrarch here, and they -cemented a friendship which lasted his life. Sometimes Petrarch visited -Cabassoles at Cabrières, where he resided; often the bishop came to the -poet's cottage. They frequently passed the livelong day together in the -woods, without thinking of refreshment, or whole nights among their -books, when morning often dawned upon them unawares. After two years' -residence in this seclusion, Petrarch continued so pleased with it, that -he wrote to Giacomo Colonna, who had endeavoured, by promises of -preferment and advantage, to entice him from it, imploring him to let -him remain in a position so congenial to his disposition. "You know," he -says, "how false and vain are the enticements of a court; and that the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">{Pg 83}</a></span> -men most in favour there are the fools and rogues who attain dignities -and places through adulation and simony. Why, then, should you, a man of -honour, desire that I should return to a court? And even if it were -possible that I should obtain any thing from the munificence of the -pope, the detestable vices of the court are horrible to me. When I -quitted the papal residence, know that I sang the psalm 'In exitu Israel -ex Ægypto.' I enjoy, in the delightful solitude of Vaucluse, a sweet -and imperturbable tranquillity, and the placid and blameless leisure of -study. Any spare time I may have I go to Cabrières to amuse myself. Ah! -if you were permitted to take up your abode in this valley, you would -assuredly be disgusted, not only with the pope and cardinals, but the -whole world. I am firmly resolved never to behold the court again." -</p> - -<p> -In this letter, however, he but half expresses the cause of his hatred -to Avignon; for he does not allude to Laura, while it was the memory of -her that not only made him fly the city in which she lived, but tremble -at the mere thought of how near he still was. And while he describes the -heavenly tranquillity of his seclusion, and the beauty that adorned it, -he exclaims, "But the vicinity of Avignon poisons all." So deep was his -fear of reviving his passion by seeing its object, that he never even -visited that city for a few days. On one occasion, hearing that his -friend, William da Pastrengo, had arrived there, he repaired thither -instantly to see him: but, on his arrival within the precincts of the -fatal walls, he felt his chains fall so heavily around him, that, -resolved to cast them off at once, without tarrying an hour, without -seeing his friend, the same night he returned to Vaucluse, and then -wrote to excuse himself; alleging, as his motive, his desire to escape -from the net of passion that enveloped him in that town. At the same -time, with the contradictory impulses of a lover, he entreated the -painter, Simon Memmi, a pupil of Giotto, just arrived in Provence, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">{Pg 84}</a></span> -in high esteem with the pope and cardinals, to execute for him a small -portrait of Laura.<a name="NoteRef_42_1" id="NoteRef_42_1"></a><a href="#Note_42_1" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> Simon consented; and was so pleased with the -model thus presented him, that he frequently afterwards introduced her -face into his pictures of saints and angels. Petrarch repaid his -friend's complaisance by two sonnets of praise and commendation. -</p> - -<p> -In the imaginary conversations which Petrarch pictures himself to have -held with St. Augustin, the saint tells him that he is bound by two -adamantine chains—love and glory. To free himself from the first of -these he had retreated to Vaucluse, and found the attempt vain. The -second passion of his soul became even more strong, allying itself to -the first, for he wished Laura's lover to be renowned. This was also -more successful, as, beside the honour in which he was held by all who -knew him, it proved that his name was heard in distant countries, and -his merit acknowledged. -<span class="sidenote2">1340.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -36.</span> -He had before entertained a vague wish for the laurel crown of poetry; -but it was beyond his hopes, when, on the same day, the 24th of August, -1340, while at Vaucluse, he received letters from the Roman senate, and -from the chancellor of the university of Paris, inviting him to receive -it. Hesitating to which city to yield the preference, he wrote to ask -the advice of cardinal Colonna; and, counselled by him, as well as -following his own predilection, decided in favour of Rome. -</p> - -<p> -Another circumstance influenced Petrarch in this choice. Not long -before, his friend Dionisio Robertis had visited him at Vaucluse on his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">{Pg 85}</a></span> -way to the court of Robert king of Naples. From him Petrarch heard of -the literary tastes and liberal disposition of this amiable monarch. He -had already meditated a visit to him, and letters had been interchanged -between them. The circumstance of his coronation gave him a fair excuse -for paying him a visit. In the ardour of an age scarcely yet mature; he -believed himself worthy of the honour conferred on him; but he tells us -that he felt ashamed of relying only on his own testimony and that of -the persons who invited him. Perhaps the desire of display, and of -proving to the world that he was no illiterate pretender, was the -stronger motive. However this might be; he made choice of the king of -Naples; more illustrious in his eyes for his learning than his crown, to -examine his claim to distinction, and be the judge of his deserts.<a name="NoteRef_43_1" id="NoteRef_43_1"></a><a href="#Note_43_1" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1341.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -37.</span></p> - -<p> -He lost no time in repairing to the court of king Robert, who received -him with a warmth of friendship that excited his deepest gratitude. -Hearing the object of the poet's visit, he expressed great delight, and -considered the choice made of him, among all mortals, to be the judge of -his merits, as glorious to himself. During the many conversations they -held together, Petrarch showed the monarch the commencement of his poem -on Africa. Robert, highly delighted, begged that it might be dedicated -to him: the poet gladly assented, and kept his promise, though the king -died before it could be fulfilled. The examination of his acquirements -lasted three days, after which the king declared him worthy of the -laurel, and sent an ambassador to be present on his part when the crown -was conferred. -<span class="sidenote1">April<br /> -17.<br /> -1341.</span> -Petrarch repaired to Rome for the ceremony, and was crowned in the -capitol with great solemnity, in presence of all the nobles and -high-born ladies of the city. "I then," writes Petrarch, "thought myself -worthy of the honour: love and enthusiasm bore me on. But the laurel did -not increase my knowledge, while it gave birth to envy in the hearts of -many."<a name="NoteRef_44_1" id="NoteRef_44_1"></a><a href="#Note_44_1" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">{Pg 86}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -Leaving Rome soon after his coronation, Petrarch intended to return to -Avignon, but passing t through Parma he was detained by his friend Azzo -Correggio, who ruled the city, governing it with incomparable wisdom and -moderation. The friendship between Azzo and Petrarch had commenced at -Avignon, where, for the first and only time, Petrarch had been induced -to take on himself the office of a barrister, and pleaded the cause of -the Correggii against their enemies the Rossi before the pope, and -succeeded in obtaining a decision in their favour. This, as is -mentioned, is the only occasion on which Petrarch played the advocate; -and he boasts of having gained the cause for his clients without using -towards their adversaries the language of derision and sarcasm. -</p> - -<p> -Petrarch, meanwhile, remembering the honour he had received, was -solicitous not to appear unworthy of it; and, on a day, wandering among -the hills and crossing the river Ensa, he entered the wood of Selva -Piana: struck by the beauty of the place, he turned his thoughts to his -neglected poem of Africa; and, excited by an enthusiasm for his subject -which had long been dormant, he composed that day, and on each following -one, some verses. On returning to Parma he sought and found a tranquil -and fit dwelling: buying the house that thus pleased him, he fixed -himself at Parma, and continued to occupy himself with his poem with so -much ardour, that he brought it to a conclusion with a speed that -excited his own surprise.<a name="NoteRef_45_1" id="NoteRef_45_1"></a><a href="#Note_45_1" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> -</p> - -<p> -At this time Petrarch suffered the first of those losses which -afterwards cast such gloomy shadows over his life, in the death, first -of Thomas of Messina, and then of a dearer friend, Giacomo Colonna. -Tommaso Caloria of Messina had studied with Petrarch at Bologna, and -many of his letters are addressed to him. There existed a strict -friendship between them, both loving and cultivating literature. His -early death deeply affected the warm-hearted poet. The impression he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">{Pg 87}</a></span> -received was so melancholy and bitter, that he desired to die also; and -a fever, the consequence of his grief, made him imagine that in reality -his end was approaching. To add to his disquietude, he heard of the -illness of Giacomo Colonna. The bishop was at that time residing at -Lombes, apart from all his family, and Petrarch was about to join him to -fulfil his duties as canon. At this time he one night dreamt that he saw -Giacomo Colonna, in his garden at Parma, crossing the rivulet that -traversed it. He went to meet him, asking him, with surprise, whence he -came? whither he was going in such haste? and wherefore unattended? The -bishop replied, smiling, "Do you not remember when you visited the -Garonne with me, how you disliked the thunder-storms of the Pyrenees? -They now annoy me also, and I am returning to Rome." So saying he -hastened on, repelling with his hand Petrarch, who was about to follow -him, saying, "Remain, you must not now accompany me." As he spoke, his -countenance changed, and it was overspread with the hues of death. -Nearly a month after, Petrarch heard that the bishop had died during the -night on which this dream had occurred. The poet was a faithful and -believing son of the church of Rome, but he was not superstitious, and -saw nothing supernatural in this affecting coincidence. The loss of his -friend and patron grieved him deeply, and his mourning was renewed soon -after by the death of Dionisio Robertis. These reiterated losses made so -profound an impression, that he trembled and turned pale on receiving -any letter, and feared at each instant to hear of some new disaster. -</p> - -<p> -Satisfied with the tranquillity which he enjoyed at Parma, he resisted -the frequent and earnest solicitations of his friends at Avignon to -return among them. He did not forget Laura. Her image often occupied -him. It was here we may believe that he wrote the canzone before quoted, -and many sonnets, which showed with what lively and earnest thoughts he -cherished the passion which had so long reigned over him. He could not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">{Pg 88}</a></span> -write letters; but as it is a lover's dearest solace to make his -mistress aware that his attachment survives time and absence, Petrarch, -we may easily suppose, was glad, by the medium of his heartfelt poetry, -to communicate with her who, he hoped, prized his affection, even if she -did not silently return it. Still love, while far from her, did not so -pertinaciously and cruelly torment, and he was unwilling to trust -himself within the influence of her presence. It required a powerful -motive to induce him to pass the Alps; but this occurred after no long -period of time. Italy, and especially Rome, was torn by domestic faction -and the lawlessness of the nobles. Petrarch saw in the secession of the -popes to Avignon the cause of these disasters. His patriotic spirit -kindled with indignation, that the head of the church and the world -should desert the queen of cities, and inhabit an insignificant -province. He had often exerted all his eloquence to induce successive -popes to return to the palaces and temples of Italy. Pope Benedict XII. -died at this time, and Clement VI. was elected to fill the papal chair. -One of the first incidents of his reign was the arrival of an embassy -from Rome, soliciting the restoration of the papal residence. Petrarch, -having been already made citizen of that city, was chosen one of the -deputies.<a name="NoteRef_46_1" id="NoteRef_46_1"></a><a href="#Note_46_1" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> -<span class="sidenote2">1342.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -38.</span> -He and Rienzi (who afterwards played so celebrated a part) addressed the -pope. Their representations were of no avail; but Clement rewarded the -poet by naming him prior of Migliarino in the diocese of Pisa. -</p> - -<p> -Petrarch remained at Avignon. The sight of Laura gave fresh energy to a -passion which had survived the lapse of fifteen years. She was no longer -the blooming girl who had first charmed him. The cares of life had -dimmed her beauty. She was the mother of many children, and had been -afflicted at various times by illnesses. Her home was not happy. Her -husband, without loving or appreciating her, was ill-tempered and -jealous. Petrarch acknowledged that if her personal charms had been her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">{Pg 89}</a></span> -sole attraction he had already ceased to love her. But his passion was -nourished by sympathy and esteem; and above all, by that mysterious -tyranny of love, which, while it exists, the mind of man seems to have -no power of resisting, though in feebler minds it sometimes vanishes -like a dream. Petrarch was also changed in personal appearance. His hair -was sprinkled with grey, and lines of care and sorrow trenched his face. -On both sides the tenderness of affection began to replace, in him the -violence of passion, in her the coyness and severity she had found -necessary to check his pursuit. The jealousy of her husband opposed -obstacles to their seeing each other.<a name="NoteRef_47_1" id="NoteRef_47_1"></a><a href="#Note_47_1" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> They met as they could in -public walks and assemblies. Laura sang to him, and a soothing -familiarity grew up between them as her fears became allayed, and he -looked forward to the time when they might sit together and converse -without dread. He had a confidant in a Florentine poet, Sennucio del -Bene, attached to the service of cardinal Colonna, to whom many of his -sonnets are addressed, now asking him for advice, now relating the -slight but valued incidents of a lover's life. -</p> - -<p> -He had another confidant into whose ear to pour the history of his -heart. This was the public. In those days, when books were rare, reading -was a luxury reserved for a few, and it was chiefly by oral -communication that a poet's contemporaries became acquainted with his -productions; and there was a class of men, not poets themselves, who -chiefly subsisted by repeating the productions of others:—"men," -writes Petrarch, "of no genius, but endowed with memory and industry. -Unable to compose themselves, they recite the verses of others at the -tables of the great, and receive gifts in return. They are chiefly -solicitous to please their audience by novelty. How often have they -importuned me with entreaties for my yet unfinished poems! Often I refused. -Sometimes, moved by the poverty or worth of my applicants, I yield to their -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">{Pg 90}</a></span> -desires. The loss is small to me, the gain to them is great. Many have -visited me, poor and naked, who, having obtained what they asked, -returned, loaded with presents, and dressed in silk, to thank me." These -were the booksellers of the middle ages. It was thus that the Italian -poetry of Petrarch became known; and he, finding that it was often -disfigured in repetition, took pains at last to collect and revise it. -He performed the latter task with much care; and afterwards said, that -though he saw a thousand faults in his other works, he had brought his -Italian poetry to as great a degree of perfection as he was capable of -bestowing. -</p> - -<p> -He applied himself to Greek at this time under Bernardo Barlaam, a -Calabrian by birth, but educated at Constantinople. He had come to -Avignon as ambassador from the Greek emperor Andronicus, for the purpose -of reconciling the Greek and Roman churches. They read several of the -Dialogues of Plato together. The hook entitled "The Secret of Francesco -Petrarca" was written at this period. This work is in the form of -dialogues with St. Augustin. Petrarch, assisted by the questions and -remarks of the saint, examines the state of his mind, laying bare every -secret of his soul, its weaknesses and its fears, with the utmost -ingenuousness. He relates the struggles of his passion for Laura, and -accuses himself of that love of glory which was the spur of so many of -his actions. He speaks of the constitutional melancholy of his -disposition, which often rendered him gloomy and almost despairing; and -he is hid by the saint to seek a remedy for his sorrows, and make -atonement for his faults, by dedicating hereafter all his faculties to -God. -</p> - -<p> -His literary pursuits were interrupted by a public duty. His friend -Robert, king of Naples, died, and was succeeded by his daughter -Giovanna, married to Andrea, prince of Hungary. -<span class="sidenote2">1343.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -39.</span> -The greatest dissension reigned between the royal pair; besides which, -the young queen was not of an age to govern, and the pope had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">{Pg 91}</a></span> -pretensions to supremacy during her minority. Petrarch was sent as -ambassador to establish the papal claim; and he was commissioned, also, -by cardinal Colonna, to obtain the release of some prisoners of rank -unjustly detained at Naples. -</p> - -<p> -During this mission he became attached to the party of queen Giovanna, -who inherited her father's love of letters; so that afterwards, when her -husband was murdered, he believed her to be innocent of all share in the -crime. He was displeased, however, with the court and the gladiatorial -exhibitions in fashion there. Having obtained the liberty of the -prisoners, and brought his mission from the pope to a successful -conclusion, he returned to Parma. This part of Italy was in a state of -dreadful disturbance, arising from the wars carried on by the various -lords of Parma, Verona, Ferrara, Bologna, and Padua. Petrarch, besieged, -as it were, in the first-named town, was obliged to remain. He had still -the house he had bought, and the books he had collected and left in -Italy. He loved his cisalpine Parnassus, as he named his Italian home, -in contradistinction to his transalpine Parnassus at Vaucluse; and, -occupying himself with his poem of Africa, he was content to prolong his -stay in his native country. -<span class="sidenote1">1345.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -41.</span> -At length the roads became safe, and he returned to Avignon. -</p> - -<p> -And now an event occurred which electrified Italy, and filled the papal -court with astonishment and disquietude. Nicola di Rienzi, inspired by a -desire to free his townsmen from the cruel tyranny of the nobles, with -wonderful promptitude and energy, seized upon the government of Rome, -assumed the name of tribune, and reduced all the men of rank, with -Stefano Colonna at their head, to make public submission to his power. -The change he produced in the state of the country was miraculous. -Before, travellers scarcely ventured, though armed and in bodies, to -traverse the various states: under him the roads became secure; and his -emissaries, bearing merely a white wand in their hands, passed -unmolested from one end of Italy to the other. Order and plenty reigned -through the land. The pope and cardinals were filled with alarm; while -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">{Pg 92}</a></span> -Petrarch hailed with glowing enthusiasm the restoration of peace and -empire to his beloved country. He wrote the tribune letters full of -encouragement and praise. His heart swelled with delight at the prospect -of the renewed glories of Rome; and such was his blind exultation, that -he scarcely mourned the death of several of the most distinguished -members of the Colonna family, who fell in the straggle between the -nobles and Rienzi. -</p> - -<p> -He desired to return to Italy to enjoy the triumph of liberty and law -over oppression and licence. More and more he hated Avignon. Pope -Clement VI. was a man of refinement, and a munificent prince: but he was -luxurious and dissolute; so that the vices of the court, which filled -the poet with immeasurable abhorrence, increased during his reign. He -had offered Petrarch the dignity of bishop, and the honourable and -influential post of apostolic secretary; but the poet declined to accept -the proferred rank. Love of independence was strong in his heart; and he -desired no wealth beyond competence, which was secured to him by the -preferment he already enjoyed. He was at this time archdeacon of Parma, -as well as canon of various cathedrals. He obtained with difficulty the -consent of his friends to abandon Avignon for Italy. Cardinal Colonna -reproached him bitterly for deserting him; and Laura saw him depart with -regret. When he went to take leave of her, he found her (as he describes -in several of his sonnets) surrounded by a circle of ladies. Her mien -was dejected; a cloud overcast her face, whose expression seemed to say, -"Who takes my faithful friend from me?" Petrarch was struck to the heart -by a sad presentiment: the emotion was mutual; they both seemed to feel -that they should never meet again. -</p> - -<p> -Yet, restless and discontented, he would not stay. He had no ties of -home. His brother Gerard had taken vows, and become a Carthusian monk: -he invited Petrarch to follow his example; but the poet's love of -independence prevented this, as well as every other servitude. Belonging -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">{Pg 93}</a></span> -to the Romish church, he could not marry; and though he had two children -he was not attached to their mother, of whom nothing more is known -except the declaration, in the letters of legitimacy obtained afterwards -for her son, that she was not a married woman. Of these two children the -daughter was yet an infant. The boy, now ten years of age, he had placed -at Verona, under the care of Rinaldo da Villafranca. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1347.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -43.</span></p> - -<p> -Leaving Avignon, Petrarch passed through Genoa, where he heard of the -follies and downfall of Rienzi; instead, therefore, of proceeding to -Rome, he repaired to his house at Parma. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1348.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -44.</span></p> - -<p> -The fatal year now began which cast mourning and gloom over the rest of -his life. It was a year fatal to the whole world. The plague, which had -been extending its ravages over Asia, entered Europe. As if for an omen -of the greater calamity, a disastrous earthquake occurred on the 25th of -January. Petrarch was timid: he feared thunder—he dreaded the sea; -and the alarming concussion of nature that shook Italy filled him with -terror. The plague then extended its inroads to increase his alarm. It -spread its mortal ravages far and wide: nearly one half of the -population of the world became its prey. Petrarch saw thousands die -around him, and he trembled for his friends: he heard that it was at -Avignon, and his friend Sennucio del Bene had fallen its victim. A -thousand sad presentiments haunted his mind. He recollected the altered -countenance of Laura when he last saw her; he dreamed of her as dead; -her pale image hovered near his couch, bidding him never expect to see -her more. At last, the fatal truth reached him: he received intelligence -of her death on the 19th of May. By a singular coincidence, she died on -the anniversary of the day when he first saw her. She was taken ill on -the 3d of April, and languished but three days. As soon as the symptoms -of the plague declared themselves, she prepared to die: she made her -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">{Pg 94}</a></span> -will, which is dated on the 3d of April<a name="NoteRef_48_1" id="NoteRef_48_1"></a><a href="#Note_48_1" class="fnanchor">[48]</a>, and received the sacraments -of the church. On the 6th she died, surrounded to the last by her -friends and the noble ladies of Avignon, who braved the danger of -infection to attend on one so lovely and so beloved. On the evening of -the same day on which she died, she was interred in the chapel of the -Cross which her husband had lately built in the church of the Minor -Friars at Avignon. With her was buried a leaden box, fastened with wire, -which enclosed a medal and a sealed parchment, on which was inscribed an -Italian sonnet. If the sonnet were the composition of Petrarch, as the -sense of it would intimate, although its want of merit renders it -doubtful, this box must have been placed in the grave at a subsequent -period. -</p> - -<p> -The sensitive heart of Petrarch had often dwelt on the possibility of -Laura's death. Although she was only three years his junior, he -comforted himself by the reflection that as he had entered life first so -he should be the first to quit it.<a name="NoteRef_49_1" id="NoteRef_49_1"></a><a href="#Note_49_1" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> This fond hope was -disapappointed: he lost her who, for more than twenty years, had -continually been the object of all his thoughts: he lost her at a period -when he began to hope that, while time diminished the violence of his -passion, it might draw them nearer as friends. The sole melancholy -consolation now afforded him was derived from the contemplation of the -past. That at each hour of the day her memory might be more vividly -present to his thoughts, he fixed to the binding of his copy of Virgil a -record of her death, written in Latin, of which the following is a -translation:— -</p> - -<p> -"Laura, illustrious through her own virtues, and long celebrated by my -verses, first appeared to me in my youth, in the year of our Lord 1327, -on the sixth day of April, in the church of Ste. Claire, at Avignon, at -the ninth hour<a name="NoteRef_50_1" id="NoteRef_50_1"></a><a href="#Note_50_1" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> of the morning. And in the same city, during the same -month of April, on the same day of the month, and at the same early -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">{Pg 95}</a></span> -hour, but in the year 1348, this light was withdrawn from the world; -while I, alas! ignorant of my fate, chanced to be at Verona. The unhappy -intelligence reached me through the letters of my friend Louis, at -Parma, in the same year, on the morning of the nineteenth of May. Her -chaste and beautiful body was deposited, on the evening of her death in -the church of the Minor Friars at Avignon.<a name="NoteRef_51_1" id="NoteRef_51_1"></a><a href="#Note_51_1" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> Her soul, as Seneca says -of Africanus, I believe to have returned to the heaven whence it came. -To mingle some sweetness with the bitter memory of this miserable event, -I have selected this place to record it, which often meets my eyes; so -that by frequent view of these words, and by due estimation of the swift -passage of time, I may be reminded that nothing henceforth can please me -in life, and that, my chief tie being broken, it is time that I should -escape from this Babylon; and, by the grace of God, I shall find this -easy, while I resolutely and boldly reflect on the vain cares of years -gone by, on my futile hopes, and on their unexpected downfall."<a name="NoteRef_52_1" id="NoteRef_52_1"></a><a href="#Note_52_1" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> -</p> - -<p> -Death consecrates and deepens the sentiment with which we regard a -beloved object; it is no wonder, therefore, that Petrarch, whose -sensibility and warmth of feeling surpassed that of all other men, -should have gone beyond himself in the poems he wrote subsequent to -Laura's death. Nothing can be more tender, more instinct with the spirit -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">{Pg 96}</a></span> -of passionate melancholy, and, at the same time, more beautiful, than -the sonnets and canzoni which lament her loss. It was his only -consolation to recur to all the marks of affection he had ever received -from her, and to believe that she regarded him with tender interest from -her place of bliss in heaven. He indulged, also, in another truly -catholic mode of testifying his affection, by giving large sums in -charity for the sake of her soul, and causing so many masses to be said -for the same purpose, that, as a priest who was his contemporary, -informed his congregation, in a sermon, "they had been sufficient to -withdraw her from the hands of the devil, had she been the worst woman -in the world; while, on the contrary, her death was holy."<a name="NoteRef_53_1" id="NoteRef_53_1"></a><a href="#Note_53_1" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> -</p> - -<p> -The death of Laura, overwhelming as it was, was but a prelude to -numerous others. Petrarch had lived among many dear friends; but the -plague appeared, and their silent graves were soon all that remained to -him of them. Cardinal Colonna died in the course of this same year. He -was the last surviving son of the hero Stefano, who lived to become -childless in his old age. Petrarch relates in a letter, that during his -first visit to Rome, he was walking one evening with Stefano in the wide -street that led from the Colonna palace to the Capitol, and they paused -in an open place formed by the meeting of several streets. They both -leant their elbows on an antique marble, and their conversation turned -on the actual condition of the Colonna family: after other observations -that fell from Stefano, he turned to Petrarch with tears in his eyes, -saying, "With regard to the heir of my possessions, I desire and ought -to leave them to my sons; but fate has ordered otherwise. By a reversal -of the order of nature, which I deplore, it is I—decrepit old man as -I am—who will inherit from all my children." As he spoke, grief -seized upon his heart, and interrupted further speech. Now this singular -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">{Pg 97}</a></span> -prophecy was fulfilled; and Petrarch, in his letter of condolence, -reminds the unhappy father of this scene. The old man, however, survived -but a few months the last of his sons. -</p> - -<p> -Petrarch, during the autumn, visited Giacomo da Carrara, lord of Padua, -who had often invited him with a warmth and pertinacity, which he found -it at length impossible to resist. Pie passed many months in that town, -visiting occasionally Parma, Mantua, and Ferrara, being much favoured -and beloved by the various lords of these cities. -<span class="sidenote1">1350.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -46.</span> -On occasion of the jubilee, he went to Rome in pilgrimage, to avail -himself of the religious indulgences afforded on that occasion. On his -way through Florence, which he visited for the first time, he saw -Boccaccio, with whom he had lately entered into a correspondence. -Continuing his journey, he met with a serious injury from the kick of a -horse on his knee, on the road near Bolsena, which occasioned him great -pain, and on his arrival at Rome confined him to his bed for some days. -As soon as he was able to rise, he performed his religious duties, and, -with earnest prayers and good resolutions, dedicated his future life to -the practices of virtue and piety. -</p> - -<p> -Returning from Rome, he passed through his native town of Arezzo. The -inhabitants received him with every mark of honour: they showed him the -house in which he was born, which they had never permitted to be pulled -down nor altered, and attended on him during his visit with zealous -affection. On his arrival at Padua he was afflicted by hearing of the -death of his friend and protector Giacomo da Carrara; who, but a few -days before, had been assassinated by a relative. The son of Giacomo -succeeded to him, and though the difference of age prevented the same -intimacy of friendship, the young lord loved and honoured Petrarch as -his father had done; so that he continued to reside in the city, over -which the youth ruled. Sometimes he visited Venice, to which beautiful -and singular town he was much attached. The doge, Andrea Dandolo, was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">{Pg 98}</a></span> -his friend; and he exerted his influence to put an end to the -destructive war carried on between Venice and Genoa, writing forcible -and eloquent letters to the doge. His endeavours were without success; -but the injuries which the republics mutually inflicted and received -might make them afterwards repent that they had not listened to the -voice of the peace-maker. -</p> - -<p> -Nor was the poet's heart wholly closed against the feelings of love; nor -could the image of the dead Laura possess all the empire which had been -hers, cold and reserved as she was, during her life. His sonnets give -evidence that passion had spread fresh nets to ensnare him, when the new -object of his admiration died, and death quenched and scattered once -again the fire which he was unable to resist.<a name="NoteRef_54_1" id="NoteRef_54_1"></a><a href="#Note_54_1" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> Again, he could think -only of Laura; and, on the third anniversary of her death, exclaimed, -"How sweet it had been to die three years ago!" -<span class="sidenote2">1351.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -47.</span> -It was on this anniversary that Boccaccio arrived at Padua, bringing the -decree of the Florentine republic, which reinstated him in his paternal -inheritance, together with letters inviting him to accept of a -professor's chair in their new university. -</p> - -<p> -Such an employment scarcely suited one, who, for the sake of freedom, -had declined the highest honours of the catholic church. Petrarch -testified great gratitude for the restitution of his property, but -passed over their offered professorship in silence. Instead of -repairing, as he had been invited, to Florence, he set out to revisit -Avignon and Vaucluse. "I had resolved," he writes, "to return here no -more; but my desires overcame my resolution, and, in justification of my -inconstancy, I have nothing to allege but the necessity I felt for -solitude. In my own country I am too well known, too much courted, too -greatly praised. I am sick of adulation; and that place becomes dear to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">{Pg 99}</a></span> -me, where I can live to myself alone, abstracted from the crowd, -unannoyed by the voice of fame. Habit, which is a second nature, has -rendered Vaucluse my true country." His son accompanied him on this -occasion. The boy was now fourteen years of age: he was quiet and -docile; but invincibly repugnant to learning, to the ne slight -mortification of his father, who vainly tried, by reprehension, -raillery, and sarcasm, to awaken emulation in his mind. -</p> - -<p> -When Petrarch arrived at Avignon, Clement VI, was very ill, and expected -to die. He asked the poet's opinion concerning his disorder; and -Petrarch wrote him a letter to give him his advice with regard to the -choice of a physician, entreating him to adhere to one, as affording a -better prospect, where all was chance, of having his malady understood. -The learned body of medical men was highly offended by this letter: they -attacked the writer with acrimony; and Petrarch replied in a style of -vituperation, little accordant with his usual mild manner. He was highly -esteemed in the papal court, and consulted by the four cardinals, -deputed to reform the government of Rome; and was again solicited to -accept the place of apostolic secretary, which he again refused. "I am -content," he said, in reply to his friend the cardinal Talleirand: "I -desire nothing more. My health is good; labour renders me cheerful; I -have every kind of book; and I have friends, whom I consider the most -precious blessing of life, if they do not seek to deprive me of my -liberty." -</p> - -<p> -This letter was written from Vaucluse, Petrarch's heart had opened to a -thousand sad and tender emotions, when he returned to the valley which -had so frequently heard his laments: his sonnets on his return to -Provence breathe the softest spirit of sadness and devoted love. He -gladly took refuge in his former home from the vices and turbulence of -Avignon. He renewed the wandering lonely life he had lived twelve years -before. The old peasant still lived with his aged wife; and the poet -amused himself with improvements in his garden, which an inundation of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">{Pg 100}</a></span> -the Sorgue overwhelmed and destroyed. -</p> - -<p> -On the death of Clement VI. he was succeeded by Innocent VI. He was an -ignorant man; and, from Petrarch's perpetual study of Virgil (who was -reputed to be an adept in the art magic), he fancied that the poet was a -magician also. -<span class="sidenote2">1352.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -48.</span> -Petrarch was now most anxious to return to Italy, yet still lingered at -Vaucluse. He made an excursion to visit the Carthusian convent, where -his brother Gerard had taken the vows. Gerard had acted an admirable and -heroic part during the visitation of the plague, and survived the -dangers to which he fearlessly exposed himself. Petrarch was received in -his monastery with respect and affection; and, in compliance with the -request of the monks, wrote his treatise "On Solitary Life." -</p> - -<p> -Winter advanced, and he was most anxious to cross the Alps. He visited -his old friend, the bishop of Cavaillon, at Cabrières, and was entreated -by him to remain "one day more." Petrarch consented with reluctance; and -on that very night such storms came on, as impeded his journey for -several weeks. -<span class="sidenote2">1353.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -49.</span> -At length he crossed the Alps, and arrived at Milan, on his way -southward, not having determined in his own mind in what town he should -fix his residence, wavering between Parma, Padua, Verona, and Venice. -While in this state of indecision, the hospitable reception and earnest -invitation of Giovanni Visconti, lord and bishop of Milan, induced him -to remain in that city. -</p> - -<p> -Louis of Baviere, emperor of Germany, had been deposed by pope John -XXII., and each succeeding pontiff confirmed the interdict. Clement VI. -raised Charles, the son of John of Luxembourg, king of Bohemia, to the -imperial throne, imposing on him, at the same time, rigorous and -disgraceful conditions with regard to his rights over Italy, forcing him -into an engagement never to pass a single night at Rome, but enter it -merely for the ceremony of his coronation. Charles and his father had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">{Pg 101}</a></span> -visited Avignon in the year 1346, to arrange the stipulations.<a name="NoteRef_55_1" id="NoteRef_55_1"></a><a href="#Note_55_1" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> Some -time after, Petrarch wrote a long and eloquent letter to the emperor, -imploring him to enter Italy, and to deliver it from the disasters that -oppressed it. It is singular that two such lovers of their country, as -Dante and Petrarch, should both have invited German emperors to take -possession of it: but the emperor was then the representative of the -sovereigns of the Western empire, and they believed that, crowned and -reigning at Rome, that city would again become the capital of the world, -and Germany sink into a mere province. For though Petrarch earnestly -implores the emperor to enter Italy, various imprecations against the -Germans are scattered through his poems. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1354.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -50.</span></p> - -<p> -Charles did not answer the poet's letter immediately, but he entertained -a profound admiration for him; and when he entered Italy, being at -Mantua, he sent one of his esquires to Milan, to invite Petrarch to come -to him. The poet immediately obeyed, though frost and snow rendered his -journey slow and difficult. The emperor received him with the greatest -kindness and distinction. Petrarch used the utmost freedom of speech in -his exhortations to the emperor to deliver Italy. He made him a present -of a collection of antique medals, among which was an admirable one of -Augustus, saying to him, "These heroes ought to serve you as examples. -The medals are dear to me: I would not part with them to any one but -you. I know the lives and acts of the great men whom they represent: -this knowledge is not enough for you; you ought to imitate them." -</p> - -<p> -Petrarch's admonitions were vain. After a progress through Italy, and -the ceremony of his coronation at Rome; after having made a mere traffic -of his power and prerogatives, Charles hastened to repass the Alps, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">{Pg 102}</a></span> -returned to Germany, as a contemporary historian observes "with a full -purse, but shorn of honour." -</p> - -<p> -After the death of the bishop-lord Giovanni Visconti, Petrarch continued -to reside at Milan under the protection of his nephew Galeazzo: he was -sent by him at one time to Venice to negotiate a peace, and on another -to Prague, on an embassy to the emperor Charles. -<span class="sidenote2">1355.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -51.</span> -Afterwards he was sent to Paris to congratulate king John on his return -from his imprisonment in England: he was shocked, in travelling through -France, to find that it had been laid waste by fire and sword. -<span class="sidenote2">1360.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -56.</span> -The invasion of the English had reduced the whole land to a frightful -state of solitude; the fields were desolate, and no house was left -standing, except such as were fortified. Paris presented a yet more -painful spectacle; grass grew in the deserted streets; the sounds of -gaiety and the silence of learning were exchanged for the tumult of -soldiery and the fabrication of arms. Petrarch was well received, -especially by the dauphin, Charles, who cultivated letters and loved -literary men. Here, as in every other court he visited, the poet was -solicited to remain; but he found the barbarism of Paris little -congenial to his habits, and he hastened back to Italy. -</p> - -<p> -When not employed on public affairs, Petrarch lived a life of peace and -retirement at Milan. In the summer, he inhabited a country-house three -miles from the city, near the Garignano, to which he gave the name of -Linterno: when in the city, he dwelt in a sequestered quarter near the -church of St. Ambrose. "My life," he says in a letter to the friend of -his childhood, Guido Settimo, "has been uniform ever since age tamed the -fervour of youth, and extinguished that fatal passion which so long -tormented me; and though I often change place, my mode of spending my -time is the same in all. Remember my former occupations, and you will -know what my present ones are. It seems to me that you ought not only to -know my acts, but even my dreams." -</p> - -<p> -"Like a weary traveller, I quicken my steps as I proceed. I read and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">{Pg 103}</a></span> -write day and night, one occupation relieving another. This is all my -amusement and employment: my eyes are worn out with readings my fingers -weary with holding the pen. My health is so good and robust that I -scarcely feel the advance of years. My feelings are as warm as in my -youth, but I control their vivacity, so that my repose is seldom -disturbed by them. One thing only is the source of disquietude: I am -esteemed more than I deserve, so that a vast concourse of people come to -see me. Not only am I honoured and loved by the prince of this city and -his court, but the whole population pays me respect: yet, living in a -distant quarter of the city, the visits I receive are infrequent, and I -am often left in solitude. I am unchanged in my habits as to sleep and -food. I remain in bed only to sleep, for slumber appears to me to -resemble death, and my bed the grave, which renders it hateful. The -moment I awake I hurry to my library. Solitude and quiet are dear to me; -yet I appear talkative to my friends, and make up for the silence of a -year by the conversation of a day. My income is increased, I confess, -but my expenditure increases with it. You know me, and that I am never -richer nor poorer: the more I have, the less I desire, and abundance -renders me moderate: gold passes through my fingers, but never sticks to -them." -</p> - -<p> -The literary work on which his busy leisure was employed, was "De -Remediis utriusque Fortunæ," which he dedicated to Azzo di Coreggio. -Azzo, who had formerly protected him, had been driven into exile, and, -alternately a prisoner and an outcast, was reduced to a state of the -heaviest adversity. Petrarch never ceased to treat him with respect; and -for his comfort and consolation composed this treatise, of how to bring -a remedy to the evils consequent on both prosperous and adverse fortune. -</p> - -<p> -Honoured by all men, beloved by his friends, with whom he kept up a -constant and affectionate correspondence, courted by monarchs, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">{Pg 104}</a></span> -refusing the offers made him of the highest preferment in the church, -Petrarch spent his latter years in peace and independence. His chief -source of care was derived from his son. The youth was at first modest -and docile, but his disinclination to literature was so great, that he -abhorred the very sight of books. As he grew older he became rebellious, -and a separation ensued between him and his father, soon made up again -on the submission of the young man and his promises of amendment. The -poet's tranquillity was at last broken in upon by the wars of the -Visconti, and the plague, which again ravaged Italy. It had spared Milan -by a singular exemption in the year 1348, but during its second -visitation it was more fatal to this city than to any other. Petrarch -had to mourn the loss of many friends; and his son, who died at this -time, was probably one of its victims. Petrarch records his death in his -Virgil, in these words:—"He who was born for my trouble and sorrow, -who while he lived was the cause of heavy care, and who dying, inflicted on -me a painful wound, having enjoyed but few happy days in the course of -his life, died A. D. 1361, at the age of twenty-five."<a name="NoteRef_56_1" id="NoteRef_56_1"></a><a href="#Note_56_1" class="fnanchor">[56]</a> -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1361.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -57.</span></p> - -<p> -These combined causes induced Petrarch to take up his abode at Padua, of -whose cathedral he was a canon. During the remainder of his life he -usually spent the period of Lent there, and the summer at Pavia; which, -belonging to Galeazzo Visconti, he visited as his guest. A great portion -of his time also was passed at Venice: he had made the republic a -present of his library, and a palace was decreed to him for its -reception, in which he often resided. Andrea Dando was dead; his heart -had been broken by the reverses which the republic suffered in its -struggle with Genoa. Marino Faliero, who succeeded to him, had already -met his fate; but the new doge, Lorenzo Celsi, was Petrarch's warm -friend. -</p> - -<p> -During this year he gave his daughter Francesca, who was scarcely twenty -years of age, in marriage to Francesco Brossano, a Milanese gentleman. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">{Pg 105}</a></span> -She was gentle and modest, attached to her duties, and averse to the -pleasures of general society: in person she resembled her father to a -singular degree. Her husband had a pleasing exterior; his physiognomy -was remarkably placid, his conversation was unassuming, and his manners -mild and obliging. Petrarch was much attached to his son-in-law: the new -married pair inhabited his house at Venice, and the domestic union was -never disturbed to the end of his life. -</p> - -<p> -One of his principal friends at this period was Boccaccio. Boccaccio, in -the earnestness of his admiration and the singleness of his heart, sent -him a copy of Dante, transcribed by his own hand, with a letter inviting -him to study a poet whose works he neglected and depreciated. Petrarch, -in answer, endeavoured to exculpate himself from the charge of envying -or despising the father of Italian poetry. But his very excuses betray -a latent feeling of irritation; and he asks, how he could be supposed to -envy a man whose highest flights were in the vulgar tongue, while such -of his own poems as were composed in that language he regarded as mere -pastime. The poetry of Dante and Petrarch is essentially different. -There is more refinement in Petrarch, and more elegance of -versification, but scarcely more grace of expression. The force, beauty, -and truth, with which Dante describes the objects of nature, and the -sympathetic feeling that vivifies his touches of human passion, is of a -different style from the outpouring of sentiment, and earnest dwelling -on the writer's own emotions, which form the soul of Petrarch's verses. -The characters of the poets were also in contrast.<a name="NoteRef_57_1" id="NoteRef_57_1"></a><a href="#Note_57_1" class="fnanchor">[57]</a> Dante was a -proud, high-spirited, unyielding man: his haughty soul bent itself to -God and the sense of virtue only; he loved deeply, but it was as a poet -and a boy; and his after-life, spent in adversity, is tinged only with -sombre colours. He possessed the essentials of a hero. Petrarch was -amiable and conciliating: he was incapable of venality or baseness; on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">{Pg 106}</a></span> -the contrary, his disposition was frank, independent, and generous; but -he was vain even to weakness; and there was a touch of almost feminine -softness in his nature, which was even accompanied by physical timidity -of temper. His ardent affections made him, to a degree, fear his -friends; he was versatile rather than vigorous in his conceptions; and -it was easier for him to plan new works, than to execute one begun, and -to persevere to the end. -</p> - -<p> -He wrote for the learned in Latin; he was averse to communicate with the -ignorant in Italian verse, yet he never made Laura the subject of poetry -except in his native tongue. Even to the last he wrote of her; and one -of his latest productions, chiefly in her honour, were the "Triumphs." -One of these, "The Triumph of Death," is among the most perfect and -beautiful of his productions. His description of Laura's death; the -assemblage of her friends who came to witness her last moments, and -asked what would become of them when she was gone; her own calmness and -resignation; her life fading as a flame that consumes itself away, not -that is violently extinguished; her countenance fair, not pale; her -attitude, reposing like one fatigued, a sweet sleep closing her -beautiful eyes; all is told with touching simplicity and grace. The -second part relates the imagined visit of her spirit to the pillow of -her bereaved lover on the night of her death. She approached him, and, -sighing, gave him her hand: delight sprung up in his heart at taking the -desired hand in his. "Recognise her," she said, "who abstracted you from -the beaten path when your young heart first opened itself to her." Then, -with a thoughtful and composed mien, she sat, and made him sit on a bank -shaded by a laurel and a beech. "How should I fail to know my sweet -deity!" replied the poet, weeping, and doubtful whether he spoke to one -alive or dead. She comforted and exhorted him to give up those mundane -thoughts which made death a pain. "To the good," she said, "death is a -delivery from a dark prison. I had approached near the last moment; the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">{Pg 107}</a></span> -flesh was weak, but my spirit ready, when I heard a low sad voice -saying, 'O miserable is he who counts the days; and one appears to endure -a thousand years—and who lives in vain—who wanders over earth -and sea, thinking only of her—speaking only of her!' Then," continues -Laura, "I turned my languid eyes, and saw the spirit who had impelled me -and checked you; I recognised her aspect; for in my younger days, when I -was dearest to you, she made life bitter, and death, which is seldom -pleasant to mortals, sweet; so that at that sad moment I was happy, -except for the compassion I felt for you."—"Ah! lady," said the poet, -"tell me, I beseech you, did love never inspire you with a wish to pity -my sufferings, without detracting from your own virtuous resolves? For -your sweet anger and gentle indignation, and the soft peace written in -your eyes, held my soul in doubt for many years." A smile brightened the -lady's countenance as she hastily replied, "My heart never was, nor can -be, divided from yours; but I tempered your fire with my coldness, for -there was no other way of saving our young names from slander,—nor is -a mother less kind because she is severe. Sometimes I said, 'He rather -burns than loves, and I must watch;' but she watches ill who fears or -desires. You saw my outward mien, but did not discern the inward -thought. Often anger was painted on my countenance, while love warmed my -heart;—but reason was never in me conquered by feeling. Then, when I -saw you subdued by grief, I turned my eyes tenderly on you, and saved -your life, and our honour. These were my arts, my deceits, my kind or -disdainful treatment; and thus, either sad or gay, I have led you to the -end, and rejoice, though weary."—"Lady," replied the poet, "this were -reward for all my devotion, could I believe you."—"Never will I say -whether you pleased my eyes in life," answered his visitant; "but the -chains which your heart wore pleased me, as well as the name which, far -and near, you have conferred on me. Your love needed moderation only; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">{Pg 108}</a></span> -our mutual affection might be equal; but you displayed yours, I -concealed mine. You were hoarse with demanding pity, while I continued -silent,—for shame or fear made much suffering appear slight in my -eyes. Grief is not decreased by silence, nor is it augmented by complaints; -yet every veil was riven "when alone I listened to you singing, 'Dir -più non osa il nostro amore.' My heart was with you, while my eyes were -bent to earth. But you do not perceive," she continued, "how the hours -fly, and that dawn is, from her golden bed, bringing back day to mortals. -We must part—alas! If you would say more, speak briefly."—"I -would know, lady," said the poet, "whether I shall soon follow you, or -tarry long behind." She, already moving away, replied, "In my belief, -you will remain on earth without me many years." -</p> - -<p> -Thus fondly, in age, and after the many years which Laura had prophesied -had gone over his head, Petrarch dwelt on the slight variations and -events that checkered the history of his love. It may be remarked, also, -that he grew to hold in slight esteem his Latin poetry; he could never -be prevailed upon to communicate his "Africa," and begged that after his -death it might be destroyed. -</p> - -<p> -To the last he interested himself deeply in the political state of his -country. He exceedingly exulted when, on the death of Innocent VI., pope -Urban V. removed his court to Rome. At the same time that he refused the -reiterated offer of the place of apostolic secretary, he asked his -friends to solicit church-preferment for him—he cared not what, so -that it did not demand the sacrifice of his liberty, nor include the -responsibility attendant on the care of souls. It would seem that his -income had become diminished at this time, for he often said that it was -not in old age that he should seek to increase his means; doubtless his -expenses increased on his daughter's account, and he had given up -several of his canonicates to his friends, lie was a generous man, and -had many dependents always about him; so that it is no wonder that he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">{Pg 109}</a></span> -wished not to find his capacity of benefiting others inconveniently -straitened. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1363.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -59.</span></p> - -<p> -Boccaccio became warmly attached to Petrarch; at one time he spent the -three summer months of June, July, and August, with him at Venice, in -company with a Greek named Leonzio Pilato—a singular man, of a -sombre, acid, and irritable disposition, but valuable to the friends as an -expounder of the Greek language. Pilato left them to return to -Constantinople; but his restless gloomy spirit quickly prompted him to -wish to revisit Italy. He wrote Petrarch a letter, "as long and dirty," -says the poet, as his own hair and beard. "This Greek," he continues, in -a letter to Boccaccio, "would be useful to us in our studies, were he -not an absolute savage; but I will never invite him here again. Let him -go, if he will, with his mantle and ferocious manners, and inhabit the -labyrinth of Crete, in which he has already spent many years." -<span class="sidenote1">1365.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -61.</span> -This severity was tempered afterwards, when he heard of the death of -Pilato, who was struck by lightning during a storm on board ship, while -returning by sea to Italy. "This unhappy man," writes Petrarch, "died as -he lived, miserably. I do not think he ever enjoyed a tranquil hour: I -cannot imagine how the spirit of poetry contrived to enter his -tempestuous soul." -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1367.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -63.</span></p> - -<p> -When Urban V. arrived at Rome, Petrarch wrote him a long letter, -expressive of the transport he felt on this auspicious event. He praised -his courage in having vanquished every obstacle; adding, "Permit me to -praise you; I shall not be suspected of flattery, for I ask nothing -except your benediction." The pope replied to this letter by an eulogium -on its eloquence; declaring, at the same time, that he had the greatest -desire to see and be of service to him. -</p> - -<p> -But old age had advanced on Petrarch. He had for several years suffered, -each autumn, the attacks of a tertian fever, probably the effect of the -climate of Lombardy, where that malady is prevalent; and this tended -rapidly to diminish his strength. -<span class="sidenote1">1369.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -65.</span> -When Urban V. wrote to him with his own hand to reproach him for not -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">{Pg 110}</a></span> -having come to Rome, and urging his instant journey, his letter found -Petrarch at Padua, recovering slowly from an attack of this kind. He was -unable to mount a horse, and was obliged to defer obeying the mandate. -Somewhat recovered during the following winter, he prepared for his -journey, making his will, which he wrote with his own hand. -<span class="sidenote2">April<br /> -4.<br /> -1370.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -66.</span> -He then set out, but got no further than Ferrara; he there fell into a -sort of swoon, in which he continued for thirty hours without giving any -sign of life. The most violent remedies were administered, and he felt -them no more than a marble statue. The report went abroad that he was -dead, and the city was filled with mourning and lamentation. As soon as -he was somewhat recovered, he would have proceeded on his journey, -notwithstanding the representations of the physicians, who declared that -he would not arrive at Rome alive: but he was too weak to get on -horseback; so he was carried back to Padua in a gondola, and was -received, on his unexpected arrival, with the liveliest demonstrations -of joy, by Francesco da Carrara, the lord of the town, and by its -inhabitants. -</p> - -<p> -For the sake of tranquillity, and to recover his health, he sought a -house in the country, and established himself at Arquà, a village -situated north of Padua, among the Euganean hills, not far from the -ancient and picturesque town of Este. The country around, presenting the -vast plains of Lombardy in prospect, and the dells and acclivities of -the hills in the immediate vicinity, is charming beyond description. -There is a luxuriance of vegetation, a richness of produce, which -belongs to Italy, while the climate affords a perpetual spring. Petrarch -built a small but agreeable house at the end of the village, surrounded -by vineyards and gardens. -</p> - -<p> -He busied himself in this retreat by finishing a work begun three years -before, which he had better have left wholly undone. It was founded on a -curious incident, of which he has preserved the knowledge, and which -otherwise would have sunk into oblivion. There were a set of young men -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">{Pg 111}</a></span> -at Venice, disciples of Aristotle, or rather of his Arabian translator, -Averroes, who set up his philosophy as the law of the world, who -despised the Christian religion, and turned the apostles and fathers of -the church into ridicule: there was an open war of opinion between these -men and the pious Petrarch. Four among them, in the presumption and -vivacity of youth, instituted a kind of mock tribunal, at which they -tried the merits of their amiable and learned countryman; and pronounced -the sentence, that "Petrarch was a good sort of a man, but exceedingly -ignorant." He relates this incident in his treatise, "On my own -Ignorance and that of others," which he commences by pretending to be -satisfied with the decision. "Be it so," he says, "I am content; let my -judges be wise, while I am virtuous!" and then he goes on to prove the -fallacy of their judgment by a great display of erudition. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">May<br /> -7.<br /> -1371.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -67.</span></p> - -<p> -He continued to get weaker, and his illnesses were violent, though -transient. On one occasion he was attacked by a fever, and the physician -sent to him by Francesco da Carrara, declared that he could not survive -the night. The next morning he was found, apparently well, risen from -his bed and occupied by his books. "This," he says, "has happened to me -ten times in the course of ten years." The vital powers were thus -exhausted, and it was not likely that he could live to extreme age. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">Padua,<br /> -Jan.<br /> -5.<br /> -1372.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -68.</span></p> - -<p> -"You ask me how I am," he writes to a friend: "I am tranquil, and -liberated from the passions of youth. I enjoyed health for a long -time—during the last two years I am grown infirm. My life has been -declared to be in imminent danger, yet I am still alive. I am at present -at Padua, fulfilling my duties as canon. I have quitted Venice, and -rejoice to have done so, on account of the war between the republic and -the lord of this city. In Venice I should have been suspected; here I am -beloved. I pass a great part of my time in the country, which I always -prefer to town. I read, I write, I think. I neither hate nor envy any -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">{Pg 112}</a></span> -man. During the early season of youth, I despised every one except -myself—in maturer years I despised myself only—in my old age I -despise almost all—and myself more than any. I fear only those whom I -love, and my desires are limited to the ending my life well. I try to avoid -my numerous visiters, and have a small agreeable house among the Euganean -hills, where I hope to pass the rest of my days in peace—with the -absent or the dead, perpetually in my thoughts. I have been invited by -the pope, the emperor, and the king of France, who have often and -earnestly solicited me to take up my abode at their several courts; but -I have constantly refused, preferring my liberty before all things." -</p> - -<p> -It is a singular circumstance that one of the last acts of Petrarch was, -to read the "Decameron." Notwithstanding his intimate friendship with -the author during twenty years, Boccaccio's modesty prevented his -speaking of the work, and it fell into Petrarch's hands by chance. -<span class="sidenote2">June<br /> -8.<br /> -1374.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -70.</span> -"I have not had time," he writes to his friend, "to read the whole, so -that I am not a fair judge; but it has pleased me exceedingly. Its great -freedom is sufficiently excused by the age at which you wrote it, the -lightness of the subject, and of the readers for whom it was destined. -With many gay and laughable things, are mingled many that are serious -and pious. I have read principally at the beginning and end. Your -description of the state of our country during the plague, appears to me -very true and very pathetic. The tale at the conclusion made so lively -an impression on me that I committed it to memory, that I might -sometimes relate it to my friends." -</p> - -<p> -This is the story of Griselda. Petrarch translated it into Latin for the -sake of those who did not understand Italian, and often read it and had -it read to him. He relates, that frequently the friend who read it broke -off, interrupted by tears. Among others to whom he communicated this -favourite tale was our English poet Chaucer, who in his prologue to the -story of Griselda says that he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">{Pg 113}</a></span> -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Learned it at Padowe of a worthy clerke,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Francis Petrarch."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Chaucer had been sent ambassador to Genoa just at this time. -</p> - -<p> -The letter to Boccaccio accompanying the Latin translation of the story -was probably the last that Petrarch ever wrote. The life of this great -and good man had nearly arrived at its conclusion. On the morning of the -19th of July, 1374, he was found by his attendants in his library, his -head resting on a book. As he often passed whole hours and even days in -this attitude, it at first excited no peculiar attention; but the -immovability of his posture at length grew alarming, and on inspection -it was found that he was no more. -</p> - -<p> -The intelligence of his death spread through Arquà, the Euganean hills, -and Padua, and occasioned general consternation: people flocked from far -and near to attend his funeral. Francesco da Carrara, with all the -nobility of the city of Padua, was present. The bishop, with the chapter -and clergy, performed the ceremony. The funeral oration was pronounced -by Bonaventura da Peraga, of the order of the hermits of St. Augustin. -The body was first interred in a chapel of the church at Arquà, -dedicated to the Virgin, which Petrarch had himself built. A short time -after, his son-in-law, Francesco Brossano, erected a marble monument -opposite the church, and caused the body to be transferred to it; -inscribing on the tomb four bad Latin verses, which it is said that -Petrarch himself composed, ordering that no epitaph of greater -pretension should record his death. -</p> - -<p> -Petrarch directed in his will that none should weep his death. "Tears," -he says, "are useless to the dead, and they injure the living:" he -requested only that alms should be given to the poor, that they might -pray for his soul. He continues, "Let them do what they will with my -body; it imports nothing to me." He left Francesco Brossano his heir, -and begs him, as his beloved son, to divide the money he should find -into two parts; to keep one himself, and to give the other to the person -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">{Pg 114}</a></span> -he has mentioned to him. This is said to mean his daughter. He left -several legacies to hospitals and religious houses. He bequeathed his -good lute to Thomas Barbari, wherewith to sing the praises of God; and -to Boccaccio he left fifty golden florins, to buy a robe lined with fur, -for his winter studies; apologising at the same time for leaving so -trifling a sum to so great a man. -</p> - -<p> -This is a brief and imperfect sketch of Petrarch's life—drawn from -the ample materials which his Latin prose works afford, and the careful -researches of various biographers, particularly of the Abbé de Sâde, -who ascertained, by infinite labour and perseverance, several doubtful -facts concerning the persons with whom the poet's life is chiefly -connected. Much more might be said of one whose history is pregnant with -profound and various interest. It will be enough if these pages contain -a faithful portrait, and impress the reader with a just sense, of his -honest worth, his admirable genius, his high-toned feelings, and the -many virtues that adorned his long career. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">{Pg 115}</a></span> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_27_1" id="Note_27_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_27_1"><span class="label">[27]</span></a>Epist. ad Posterit.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_28_1" id="Note_28_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_28_1"><span class="label">[28]</span></a>Epist. ad Posterit.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_29_1" id="Note_29_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_29_1"><span class="label">[29]</span></a>Canzone IV.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_30_1" id="Note_30_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_30_1"><span class="label">[30]</span></a>Secretum Francaci Petrarchæ.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_31_1" id="Note_31_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_31_1"><span class="label">[31]</span></a>Abbé de Sâde.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_32_1" id="Note_32_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_32_1"><span class="label">[32]</span></a>Canzone IV. In this, one of the most beautiful of his -canzoni, Petrarch narrates the early story of his love. In it occur the -following lines:—</p> - - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"I' seguii tanto avanti il mio desire,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ch' un dì cacciando siccom' io solea,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Mi mossi; e quella fera bella e cruda</span><br /> -<span class="i0">In una fonte ignuda</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Si stava, quanto 'l Sol più forte ardea.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Io, perchè d' altra vista non m' appago,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Stetti a mirarla: ond' ella ebbe vergogna,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E per farne vendetta, o per celarse,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">L' acqua nel viso con le mane mi sparse,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Vero dirò, forse e' parrà menzogna:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ch' i, sentii trarmi della propria immago;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ed un cervo solitario, e vago,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Di selva in selva ratto mi transformo;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ed ancor de' miei can' fuggo lo stormo."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -The abbé de Sâde, commenting on this poem with true French dryness of -fancy, supposes that the scene actually occurred, and would point out -the very spot in the environs of Avignon; not perceiving that the poet, -in an exquisite allegory, founded on the story of Acteon, describes the -wanderings of his mind, and the reveries in which he indulged concerning -her he loved; and that both lady and fountain are the creations of his -imagination, which so duped and absorbed him; that passion changed him -to a solitary being, and his thoughts became the pursuers that -perpetually followed and tormented him. -</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_33_1" id="Note_33_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_33_1"><span class="label">[33]</span></a>I adopt Petrarch's own words, here and elsewhere, -translated from the "Secretum Francisci Petrarchæ."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_34_1" id="Note_34_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_34_1"><span class="label">[34]</span></a>Secretum Francisci Petrarchæ.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_35_1" id="Note_35_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_35_1"><span class="label">[35]</span></a>Epist. ad Posterit.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_36_1" id="Note_36_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_36_1"><span class="label">[36]</span></a>Ibid.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_37_1" id="Note_37_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_37_1"><span class="label">[37]</span></a>Epist. ad Posterit.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_38_1" id="Note_38_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_38_1"><span class="label">[38]</span></a>Epist. Fam.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_39_1" id="Note_39_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_39_1"><span class="label">[39]</span></a>Sonnets 53, 54. The Abbé de Sâde notices these sonnets. -They prove that the order of time is not preserved in the arrangement of -his sonnets; as his letters prove that this journey through the forest -of Ardennes preceded many events recorded in poems which are represented -as if of an earlier date.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_40_1" id="Note_40_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_40_1"><span class="label">[40]</span></a>Epist. Fam.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_41_1" id="Note_41_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_41_1"><span class="label">[41]</span></a>The envoy shows that this canzone was written in Italy, -probably when Petrarch was residing at Parma, a few years after. Yet -being able to quote only a poem of which there exists a worthy -translation, I could not refrain from extracting it; and though alluding -to another country, and finished there, it is almost impossible not to -believe that it was conceived at Vaucluse, and that it breathes the -spirit that filled him in that solitude.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_42_1" id="Note_42_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_42_1"><span class="label">[42]</span></a>This was not a painting, but a small marble medallion. It -has been, since the fourteenth century, in possession of the Peruzzi -family at Florence. Behind the portrait of Laura are four Italian -verses, not inserted in any editions of Petrarch:—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Splendida luce cui chiaro se vede</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Quel bel che può mostrar nel mondo amore,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">O vero exemplo del sopran valore</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E d'ogni meraviglia intiera fede."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -There is a medallion also of Petrarch, similar in form to the other, -behind which is inscribed— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Simion de Senis me fecit,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Sub Anno Domini MCCCXLIII."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -The authenticity of these bas-reliefs is acknowledged in Italy; a -pamphlet, giving an account of them, was published in Paris, 1821, -written by one of the Peruzzi family. -</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_43_1" id="Note_43_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_43_1"><span class="label">[43]</span></a>Epist. ad Posterit.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_44_1" id="Note_44_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_44_1"><span class="label">[44]</span></a>Ibid.</p></div> - - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_45_1" id="Note_45_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_45_1"><span class="label">[45]</span></a>Epist. ad Posterit.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_46_1" id="Note_46_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_46_1"><span class="label">[46]</span></a>Abbé de Sâde.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_47_1" id="Note_47_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_47_1"><span class="label">[47]</span></a>Abbé de Sâde.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_48_1" id="Note_48_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_48_1"><span class="label">[48]</span></a>Abbé de Sâde.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_49_1" id="Note_49_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_49_1"><span class="label">[49]</span></a>Secretimi Francisci Petrarchæ.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_50_1" id="Note_50_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_50_1"><span class="label">[50]</span></a>Petrarch uses church time, in which the ninth hour -answers to six A. M.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_51_1" id="Note_51_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_51_1"><span class="label">[51]</span></a>The perfect accord between this record in Petrarch's -handwriting, and the inscription on the coffin of Laura de Sâde, -discovered in the church of the Minor Friars at Avignon, puts the -identity of the lady beyond all doubt. This seems to have taken place -for the very purpose of informing posterity of who she was whom the poet -had celebrated, yet whose actual name he never mentioned.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_52_1" id="Note_52_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_52_1"><span class="label">[52]</span></a>"The Virgil to which this note is appended is preserved in -the Ambrosian library at Milan. In 1795, a part of the leaf on which it -was written became detached from the cover, and the librarians perceived -other writing beneath. Curiosity engaged them to take off the entire -leaf, in which process, the parchment being tightly glued, the writing, -nearly effaced, remained on the wood of the binding. They found beneath -a note in the handwriting of Petrarch, containing the dates of the loss -he had once suffered of the book itself, and its restitution. There is, -in addition, a record of the dates of the death of various of his -friends, mingled with exclamations of regret and sorrow, and complaints -of the increasing solitude to which he finds himself reduced through -these reiterated bereavements."—<i>Ginguene.</i></p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_53_1" id="Note_53_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_53_1"><span class="label">[53]</span></a>Tiraboschi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_54_1" id="Note_54_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_54_1"><span class="label">[54]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Morte m'ha liberato un'altra volta,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E rotto 'l nodo, e'l foco ha spento, e sparso,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Contra la qual non vai forza nè 'ngegno."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10"><i>Part II, Sonnet III.</i></span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_55_1" id="Note_55_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_55_1"><span class="label">[55]</span></a>The Abbé de Sâde attributes to this prince the kiss -bestowed on Laura at a ball, by one of royal blood. The prince with his -hand beckoned aside every other elder or more noble lady, and kissed her -on her brow and eyelids. Petrarch, who was present, was filled at once -with envy and triumph (Sonnet CCI.). If her beauty, and not the -celebrity conferred on her by the poet, was the occasion of this -compliment, it is difficult not to believe that it was bestowed before -she had lost the bloom of youth, especially as it is mentioned that the -prince put aside all ladies older than herself.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_56_1" id="Note_56_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_56_1"><span class="label">[56]</span></a>Ugo Foscolo.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_57_1" id="Note_57_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_57_1"><span class="label">[57]</span></a>Essays on Petrarch, by Ugo Foscolo.</p></div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="BOCCACCIO">BOCCACCIO</a></h4> - -<p> -The family of Giovanni Boccaccio derived itself originally from the -Ardovini and Bertaldi, of the castle of Certaldo, a fortress of Val -d'Elsa, ten miles distant from Florence. His progenitors migrated to -that town, and became citizens of the republic. His father's name was -Boccaccio di Chellino, derived from that of his father Michele, -diminished to Michellino or Chellino; such, as in the Highlands of -Scotland and other places in the infancy of society, was the mode by -which the Italians formed their names; with the exception of a few, who -retained the appellation of some illustrious ancestor. The son of -Boccaccio was named Giovanni, and he always designated himself at full -length, as Giovanni di Boccaccio da Certaldo. -</p> - -<p> -Little is known of the early life of Boccaccio, except the slender and -vague details which he has interspersed in his works. His father was a -merchant; he was a man in good repute, and had filled several offices -under the Florentine government. His commercial speculations caused him -to make frequent journeys, and he lived at one time for some years at -Paris. Boccaccio was most probably born in that city. His mother was a -French girl of highly respectable family, though not noble. It has been -disputed whether in the sequel Boccaccio di Chellino married her; but it -seems likely that she died soon after the birth of her son, and never -became his wife. It is certain that Giovanni was illegitimate; as he was -obliged to obtain a bull to legitimise himself, when late in life he -entered the ecclesiastical profession. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1313.</span></p> - -<p> -Boccaccio was born in the year 1313, and at the age of seven accompanied -his father to Florence. He tells us of himself that he gave early tokens -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">{Pg 116}</a></span> -of his future inventive and romantic talents. When seven years old a -desire of inventing fictions seized him, and he even then fabricated -tales, childish and inartificial it is true, though he had never heard -any stories or fables, nor frequented the society of literary men; and -though he was scarcely acquainted with the first elements of -letters.<a name="NoteRef_58_1" id="NoteRef_58_1"></a><a href="#Note_58_1" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> His father had, however, plans with regard to him wholly at -variance with these tastes. -<span class="sidenote2">1323.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -10.</span> -For a short time he gave him Giovanni da Strada, father of the poet -Zenobio, for an instructor in the rudiments of learning, and then placed -him under the charge of a merchant, from whom he was to learn -arithmetic, and to be initiated in other parts of knowledge appertaining -to commerce. In this way, to use his own words, he lost six valuable and -irrecoverable years. Some friends then assured his father that he was -better fitted for literature than trade, and his parent yielded so far -to these remonstrances, as to permit him to enter on the study of the -canonical law, placing him under a celebrated professor. -<span class="sidenote2">1329.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -16.</span> -It is very uncertain in what country he resided during this time. He -travelled a good deal, and we have evidence of his visiting Ravenna, -Naples, and Paris, both while he was with his mercantile instructor, and -afterwards. It has been conjectured that at the former place he, as a -child, knew Dante, who discovered and cherished his infant talents. But -this idea rests on a very slender foundation, arising from Boccaccio -speaking of him as his guide from whom he derived all good; and -Petrarch, alluding to him in a letter to Boccaccio, as "he who was in -your youth the first leader, the first torch that led you to study." -Dante died in 1321, when Boccaccio was only eight years old; it seems -probable, therefore, that Boccaccio looked on Dante as his master and -guide from the reasons that made Dante give those names to Virgil; and -the works of the Italian poet formed the torch that lighted his -countryman in his search after knowledge. Another discussion has arisen -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">{Pg 117}</a></span> -concerning who his master of canonical law was; it is known that he -passed much time in Paris, and was familiar with the language, manners, -and customs of the French; and as he was intimate with Dionisio -Robertis, the friend of Petrarch, it is supposed that he studied under -him.<a name="NoteRef_59_1" id="NoteRef_59_1"></a><a href="#Note_59_1" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> It is certain, from his own words, that he was at that time at -a distance from home, and that his father, discontented with the career -he was pursuing, vexed him with reproachful letters. It would seem that -Boccaccio di Chellino was a penurious and ill-tempered man. -</p> - -<p> -The project of making him a lawyer did not succeed better than the -former one. The imaginative youth was disgusted with the hard dry study; -nor could the counsels of his preceptor, nor the continual admonitions -of his parent, nor the reproaches of his friends, induce him to pursue -his new career with any industry. -<span class="sidenote1">1333.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -20.</span> -Displeased by the little progress he made, his father put an end to the -experiment, and bringing him back to his commercial pursuits, sent him -to Naples, ordering him there to remain; or, as it would appear, from -some allusions in his works, recalled him to his home, which was then in -that city; as at one time it is certain Boccaccio lived under the -paternal roof at Naples; and it is also known that at a later period he -continued there, while his father lived at Florence. -</p> - -<p> -Boccaccio describes himself as very happy at this time, associating on -equal terms with the young nobles, with whom he practised a system of -great reserve, fearing to have his independence infringed upon. But his -society was courted, and his disposition and manners were formed by a -familiar intercourse with the licentious but refined nobility of king -Robert's court. Yet he had better thoughts and more worthy talents -dormant in his heart, which only required a slight spark to kindle into -an inextinguishable flame. One day, by chance, he visited the tomb of -Virgil.<a name="NoteRef_60_1" id="NoteRef_60_1"></a><a href="#Note_60_1" class="fnanchor">[60]</a> The tomb of the Mantuan poet is situated on the height of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">{Pg 118}</a></span> -Pausilippo: it consists of a small structure shaped, like a rude hut, -but evidently of ancient date. -<span class="sidenote2">1338.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -25.</span> -It is overgrown with rich vegetation; the wild aloe and prickly pear -issue from its clefts, and ivy and other parasites climb up its sides -and cling thickly to its summit. A dark rock rises immediately before; -it is shut in, secluded and tranquil: but at the distance of only a few -yards, a short ascent leads to the top of the hill, where the whole of -the hay of Naples opens itself to the eye. The exceeding beauty of this -scene fills every gazer with delight; the wide-spread sea is adorned by -various islands, and by picturesque promontories, which shut in secluded -bays; the earth is varied by hills, dells, and lakes, by towering -heights and woody ravines; the sky, serenely though darkly blue, imparts -matchless hues to the elements beneath. Nature presents her most -enchanting aspect; and the voice of human genius breathing from the -silent tomb, speaks of the influence of the imagination of man, and of -the power which he possesses to communicate his ideas in all their -warmth and beauty to his fellow creatures. Such is the tomb of Virgil -now—such was it five hundred years ago, when Boccaccio's heart glowed -with new-born enthusiasm as he gazed upon it. He remained long -contemplating the spot, and calling to mind with admiration the fame of -him whose ashes reposed in the structure before him: then he began to -lament his evil fortune, which obliged him to give up his faculties to -baser pursuits. Touched suddenly and deeply by an ardent desire of -cultivating poetry, he, on his return home, cast aside all thoughts of -business, and eagerly gave himself up to the Muses. And thus, at nearly -mature age, impelled by his own wishes only, excited and led by none, -his father averse, and always vituperating literature, he, untaught by -any, applied to the cultivation of his understanding, devoting himself -to the study of such authors as he could comprehend, with the greatest -avidity and delight.<a name="NoteRef_61_1" id="NoteRef_61_1"></a><a href="#Note_61_1" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> His genius and fervour conjoined to facilitate -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">{Pg 119}</a></span> -his progress; and his father, become aware of the inutility of -opposition, at length consented that he should follow his own -inclinations, and gave him the necessary assistance. -</p> - -<p> -Another circumstance occurred not long after to confirm his predilection -for literature, and to exalt it in his eyes. He was present when -Petrarch was examined by Robert, king of Naples, previous to his -coronation in the Capitol. -<span class="sidenote1">1341.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -28.</span> -King Robert was a philosopher, a physician, and an astrologer, but -hitherto he had despised poetry, being only acquainted with some -Sicilian rhymes, and a few of the compositions of the Troubadours. -Petrarch, discovering the ignorance of his royal patron, took an -opportunity, at the conclusion of his examination, to deliver an oration -in praise of poetry, setting forth its magical beauty and its beneficent -influence over the minds and manners of men; and so exalted his art, -that the king said, in Boccaccio's hearing<a name="NoteRef_62_1" id="NoteRef_62_1"></a><a href="#Note_62_1" class="fnanchor">[62]</a>, that he had never before -suspected that the foolish rind of verse enclosed matter so lofty and -sublime; and declared that now, in his old age, he would learn to -appreciate and understand it, asking Petrarch, as an honour which he -coveted, to dedicate his poem of Africa to him. From this time the lover -of Laura became the Magnus Apollo of the more youthful Boccaccio: he -named him his guide and preceptor, and became, in process of time, his -most intimate friend. -</p> - -<p> -The liberal tastes and generous patronage of king Robert drew to his -court many of the most illustrious men of the age. Boccaccio was -exceedingly desirous, from boyhood, of seeing men celebrated for -learning<a name="NoteRef_63_1" id="NoteRef_63_1"></a><a href="#Note_63_1" class="fnanchor">[63]</a>, and he cultivated a friendship with many of those who -lived at Naples. Under the Calabrian Barlaam he studied Greek. Barbato, -the chancellor of the king, Dionisio Robertis, bishop of Monopoli, Paolo -Perugini, royal librarian, Giovanni Barrili,—these were all his -particular friends; conversing with whom, he cultivated the literary -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">{Pg 120}</a></span> -tastes to which he entirely devoted himself. -</p> - -<p> -An ardent love of poetry, and an assiduous cultivation of his -imagination, made the study of his own nature and its impulses a -principal subject of contemplation; and thus softening his heart, opened -an easy entrance to the passion of love. He became attached to a lady of -high rank at Naples, whom he has celebrated in many of his works. -</p> - -<p> -He relates the commencement of this attachment in various and -contradictory ways; on which account a celebrated Italian critic has -doubted whether the truth is contained in any of his narrations<a name="NoteRef_64_1" id="NoteRef_64_1"></a><a href="#Note_64_1" class="fnanchor">[64]</a>; it -is more credible that they are founded on fact. The object of his -passion, as is proved by a variety of circumstances, and by his own -express declaration<a name="NoteRef_65_1" id="NoteRef_65_1"></a><a href="#Note_65_1" class="fnanchor">[65]</a>, was a natural daughter of Robert king of -Naples. To prevent the injury which would have accrued to her mother's -name, had her parentage been avowed, her royal father caused her to be -adopted by a noble of the house of Achino. She was educated with extreme -care, and married, when very young, to a Neapolitan noble. -<span class="sidenote2">April<br /> -7.<br /> -1341.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -28.</span> -They first saw each other at the church of San Lorenzo, on a day of high -festival. She was in all the bloom of youth and beauty, dressed with -splendour, and surrounded by all that rank and prosperity can impart of -brilliancy. The passion was sudden and mutual.<a name="NoteRef_66_1" id="NoteRef_66_1"></a><a href="#Note_66_1" class="fnanchor">[66]</a> -</p> - -<p> -But it is in vain that he endeavours to engage our sympathy. In spite of -all the interest which he tries to throw over their attachment, it bears -the appearance of a mere intrigue. The lady Mary was a wife, and, in all -probability, a mother. Her lover makes her relate, in one of his -works<a name="NoteRef_67_1" id="NoteRef_67_1"></a><a href="#Note_67_1" class="fnanchor">[67]</a>, that she was married to a noble of equal age; that until she -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">{Pg 121}</a></span> -saw Boccaccio, they were happy in each other; her husband adoring her, -and she affectionately attached to him. A passion which could disturb -such an union appears a phrensy as well as a crime. That the lovers -suffered great misery, may serve as a warning, as well as an example, of -how such attachments, from their very nature, from the separations, -suspicions, and violations of delicacy and truth entailed upon them, -must, under the most favourable auspices, be fruitful of solicitude and -wretchedness. An adherence to truth is the noblest attribute of human -nature. The perpetual infringement which results from a secret intrigue -degrades in their own eyes those who practise the falsehood. In the -details which Boccaccio has given of his passion, we perceive the -violation of the most beautiful of social ties; while deceit is -substituted for sincerity, and mystery for frankness. The lover -perceived a perpetual lie on the lips of her he loved; and, had his -attachment been of an ennobling nature, he would rather have given up -its gratification, than have sought it in the humiliation and error of -its object. -</p> - -<p> -The lady Mary was eminently beautiful. Her hair, of the palest gold, -shaded a forehead remarkable for its ample proportion; her brows were -black and delicately marked; her eyes bright and expressive; her -beautiful mouth was terminated by a small, round, and dimpled chin; her -complexion was brilliant, her person well formed and elegant. She -excelled in the dance and song, and, above all, in the vivacious, airy -spirit of conversation. Her disposition was generous and magnificent. -Boccaccio himself was handsome: his good looks were too early injured by -plumpness; but, at this time, being only twenty-eight years of age, he -was in the pride of life. His eyes were full of vivacity; his features -regular; he was peculiarly agreeable and lively in society; his manners -were polite and noble; he was proud, taking his origin from a republic -where equality of rank prevailed; but, frequenting the society of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">{Pg 122}</a></span> -Neapolitan nobility, he preserved a dignified independence and courteous -reserve, which commanded respect. -</p> - -<p> -Hitherto Boccaccio had been collecting materials, by study, for future -composition; but he had written nothing. According to his own -declaration, his mind had become sluggish and debased through frivolity -and indolence, when his love for the lady Mary awoke him to -exertion<a name="NoteRef_68_1" id="NoteRef_68_1"></a><a href="#Note_68_1" class="fnanchor">[68]</a>, and incited him to pursue that career which has caused his -name to be numbered among the illustrious writers of his country. His -first work, written at the request of his fair mistress, in the early -days of their passion, was the "Filocopo." The foundation of this tale -resembles St. John's tales—those of "The Seven Wise Masters," -&c., which were adopted from Arabia, and coloured, in their details, by -descriptions of Eastern manners, with which the conquest of Granada by -the Moors, and the expeditions of the crusaders, varied the rude -chivalry of the North. A Roman noble and his wife make a pilgrimage to -Spain. The husband dies fighting against the Mahometan Felix, king of -Marmorina. His wife fell into the hands of the victor, and died at the -court of Felix, on giving birth to her daughter Biancafiore, on the very -day on which Florio, the son of Felix, was born. The children were -educated together. The parentage of Biancafiore was unknown, her parents -having died without declaring their names and descent from the Scipios -and Cæsars; but, despite her obscure origin. Florio becomes enamoured -of his lovely companion; and his father, enraged by this ill-assorted -attachment, separates them; and, after cruelly persecuting the -unfortunate girl, at last sells her to a merchant, who takes her to -Alexandria, where she is bought by a noble, who shuts her up in a tower. -Florio wanders into various countries to seek her; they go through a -variety of disasters, which end in their happy marriage; and, the birth -of Biancafiore being discovered, they are converted to the Christian -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">{Pg 123}</a></span> -faith. The story is long drawn out and very unreadable; though -interspersed by traits of genius peculiar to Boccaccio, natural touches -of genuine feeling, and charming descriptions. Florio, during his -erratic travels in search of Biancafiore, arrives at Naples: the author -introduces him into the company of his lady and himself, under the names -of Fiammetta and Caleone. -</p> - -<p> -Having once engaged in writing, Boccaccio became very diligent: his next -work was a poem, entitled the "Teseide," or the "Thesiad." The subject -is familiar to the English reader, as the "Knight's Tale" in Chaucer, -modernised by Dryden, under the title of "Palamon and Arcite." Boccaccio -was, if not the inventor of the <i>ottava rima</i>, or octave stanza (some -Sicilian and French poets are supposed to have preceded him in the use -of it), yet the first to render it familiar to the Italians. It has been -duly appreciated by them, and used, as peculiarly adapted to narrative -poetry. The ease with which the Italian language lends itself to rhythm -and to rhyme, enabled Boccaccio to dress his thoughts in the guise of -poetry; but he was, essentially, not a poet. It were too long to enter -here into the distinction between the power of the imagination which -creates fable and character, and even produces ideal imagery, and the -peculiar attributes of poetry, which consists in a greater force and -concentration of language, and an ear for the framing poetic numbers. -The sublimity, yet delicacy, of Dante, the grace and harmony of -Petrarch, are quite unapproached by Boccaccio: nor, indeed, can he -compete with even the second and third rate of Italian poets. His style -is diffuse and incult, and altogether wanting in the higher graces of -poetic diction. Still, there is nature, pathos, and beauty in the -narration. The story of the "Thesiad," if unborrowed,—and there is no -previous trace of it,—is worthy of the author of the "Decameron:" it -is full of passion and variety. He had the merit, also, of discarding the -machinery of dreams and visions, then so much in vogue among his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">{Pg 124}</a></span> -countrymen, which took from their compositions all reality and -truth of feeling—giving us empty personifications, instead of -fellow-creatures, formed of flesh and blood. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1342.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -29.</span></p> - -<p> -Boccaccio had not long enjoyed the favour of his lady, when he was -obliged to return to Florence. His father had lost his wife and -children, and recalled his son, to be the companion of his declining -years. He separated himself from the lady Mary with infinite regret; a -feeling which she so fully shared, that he afterwards wrote a work, -entitled "La Fiammetta," in which she, as the narratress, gives the -history of their attachment, and complains bitterly of the misery they -suffered during their separation. There is less of redundancy, and more -unaffected nature in this work than in his former; and the commencement -calls up forcibly the author of the "Decameron," from the vividness and -strength of the language. In one respect, his visit to Florence, at this -time, was evidently beneficial: it familiarised him with the pure and -elegant language of Tuscany: he does not allude to it; but the barbarous -dialect of Naples must have injured his style; and we cannot doubt that -he recognised at once, and adopted, the expressive idiom of his native -town. The "Decameron" is a model of the Tuscan dialect, if such a name -can be given to a tongue differing from the Italian spoken in every -other portion of the peninsula, and infinitely superior to all in grace, -energy, and conciseness. -</p> - -<p> -He found his home, with his father, sufficiently disagreeable.<a name="NoteRef_69_1" id="NoteRef_69_1"></a><a href="#Note_69_1" class="fnanchor">[69]</a> The -house was gloomy and silent; nor was the sound of gaiety ever heard -within its walls. His father was far advanced in years, and had grown, -if he had not always been, avaricious and discourteous, discontented and -reproachful; so that the necessity of seeing him every day, of each -evening returning to his melancholy abode, cast a shadow over -Boccaccio's life. "Ah!" he exclaims, "how happy are the independent, who -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">{Pg 125}</a></span> -possess themselves in freedom!" To add to his dissatisfaction, Florence -was suffering under the oppression of Walter de Brienne, duke of Athens; -whom the people had, in a moment of despondency, set over themselves, -and who proved a cruel and gloomy tyrant; till, unable to endure any -longer his sanguinary despotism, the citizens rose against him, and -regained their liberty. -</p> - -<p> -Boccaccio's chief amusement was derived from his pen. He wrote the -"Ameto," a composition of mingled prose and verse, the first of a kind, -since adopted by Sannazaro and sir Philip Sidney. The "Ameto" is a story -somewhat resembling "Cymon and Iphigenia," in which he again introduces -himself and his lady, as he informs the reader, bidding those attend who -have a clear understanding, and they will find a hidden truth disclosed -in his verses. But a more agreeable change was at hand, to relieve him -from his painful position. His father married again, and he was -permitted to return to Naples. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1344.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -31.</span></p> - -<p> -He found great alterations in this city. King Robert was dead. His -daughter Jane succeeded to him: her dissentions with her husband -produced a violent party spirit among the courtiers, while the pursuit -of pleasure was the order of the day. A Court of Love, in imitation of -those held in Provence, was instituted, over which the lady Mary -presided. The lovers continued fondly attached to each other, though -jealousies and trifling quarrels somewhat diversified the otherwise even -course of their loves. The lady passed several months each summer at -Baiæ, amidst a society given up to amusement, and to the indulgence of -the greatest libertinism. From some unknown cause, Boccaccio did not -accompany her on these occasions, and he was tormented by a thousand -doubts, fearing that the dissolute manners of the court would corrupt -her, whom he calls a mirror of chaste love, and injure her faith towards -him. During one of these absences he wrote his poem of "Filostrato," on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">{Pg 126}</a></span> -the subject of Troilus and Cressida, which he dedicated as a kind of -peace-offering to his lady. He wrote also the "Amorosa Fiammetta," which -is her fancied complaint, while he was at Florence, and the "Amorosa -Visione," or Vision of Love; which is more poetic in its diction than -any of his previous works in verse, though it labours under the -disadvantage of being an acrostic; the initial letters of each verse -forming a series of sonnets and canzoni, addressed in the same initials -to "Madonna Maria." -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1345.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -35.</span></p> - -<p> -During the period when the plague desolated the world, Boccaccio -occupied himself by writing the "Decameron," to amuse, it is said, queen -Jane and her court. He gives a somewhat different account in the -preface. He tells us in it: "From my youth until the present time, I -have been inflamed by an aspiring love for one more noble perhaps than -befitted my obscure birth; for which passion I was praised even by the -more discreet among those who knew of it, and held in high repute; and yet -it was the cause to me of much trouble and suffering,—not certainly -through the cruelty of the lady I loved, but from the pain I endured -when separated from her. During which time I enjoyed so much relief from -the agreeable conversation and kind consolations of a friend, that I -truly believe, that but for them I had died. But it has pleased him, who -decreed that all earthly things should have an end, that my attachment, -which no fear, shame, nor advice could lessen, has by course of time so -abated, that, while I still love, I am no longer the victim of -uncontrollable passion. Yet I still remember the benefits I formerly -received from those who sympathised in my pains; and I propose to -myself, as a mark of gratitude to them, to afford to others, labouring -as I once did, the same relief which was before bestowed upon me. And -who will deny that this book belongs rather to women than men. Fearfully -and with shame they conceal within their tender hearts that flame which -is fiercer when hidden; and who, besides this, are so restrained from -the enjoyment of pleasure by the will of those around them, that they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">{Pg 127}</a></span> -most frequently struggle with their feelings, and revolve divers -thoughts, which cannot be all gay, within the little circuit of their -chamber, which must occasion heavy grief and melancholy, if unrelieved -by conversation. All which things do not happen to men; who, if afflicted, -can frequent society—hunt, shoot, ride, and play—and have a -thousand modes of amusing themselves. And, therefore, to counterbalance -the unequal award of fortune, who gives most to bear to those who are -weakest, I intend to relate, for the amusement and refuge of gentle -ladies who love, one hundred stories, fables, parables, or histories, or -whatever you please to call them, narrated, during the course of ten -days, by seven ladies and three cavaliers, who assembled together at a -villa during the late pestilence." -</p> - -<p> -His description of the plague in Florence, in the introduction, is the -finest piece of writing that Boccaccio ever composed: it presents a -pathetic, eloquent, and vivid picture of the sufferings induced by that -remorseless malady. It is a curious fact, that there is every proof that -Boccaccio was residing at Naples during the visitation of the plague in -1348; but it required no violent effort of the imagination to paint the -disasters of his native city, as Naples itself presented a similar -tragedy: nor is there any thing in the description that stamps it as -peculiarly belonging to Florence. -</p> - -<p> -The seven young ladies of the tales meet on a Wednesday morning in the -church of Santa Maria Novella, and there agree to leave the miserable -city, and to betake themselves, with three gentlemen from among their -friends, to one of the villas in the environs, and, shutting out all -sight and memory of the frightful disasters they had witnessed, to -strive, in the enjoyment of innocent pleasures, to escape from -danger.—"Nor," the lady says, who proposed this plan, "can we be said -to abandon any one, for it is we who are abandoned; and remember, that -our innocent flight is less blamable than the guilty remaining of -others." -</p> - -<p> -The Italians have taken great pains to discover the exact spots to which -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">{Pg 128}</a></span> -the company of the Decameron retreated. They are found not far from -Florence.<a name="NoteRef_70_1" id="NoteRef_70_1"></a><a href="#Note_70_1" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> The father of Boccaccio possessed a small villa in the -village of Majano, and his son pleased himself by describing the -adjacent country; and in particular, the pleasant uplands and fertile -valleys of the hills around Fiesole, which are in the neighbourhood. It -is said that Villa Gherardi was the first place to which the ladies -betook themselves; and Villa Palmieri is recognised in the description -of the sumptuous abode to which they afterwards removed, to escape being -disturbed by visiters. In the exquisite description of the narrow valley -to which Eliza conducts her companions; and where they bathe; we discern -the little plain surrounded by hills; through which the Affrico flows; -when; after having divided two hills; and descended from the rocky -heights, it collects itself into a gentle stream; under the Claustro -della Doccia of Fiesole. -</p> - -<p> -The assembly being gathered together in this delightful spot; among -other modes of amusing themselves; they agree that each one should -narrate a tale every day; and during the ten days which form the -"Decameron," a hundred tales are thus related. They give some kind of -rule to their amusement; by fixing on a subject for each tale; as for -instance, on one day each person is to tell a story in which, after much -suffering, the disasters of the hero or heroine come to a happy -conclusion. In another, the tale is to end unhappily. The stories vary -from gay to pathetic, and in the last, Boccaccio is inimitable in -delicacy and tenderness of feeling. -</p> - -<p> -All the other works of Boccaccio would have fallen into oblivion, had he -not written the "Decameron:" they are scarcely read, even though bearing -his name; they are heavy and uninteresting; his poetry is not poetry; -his prose is long-winded; but the "Decameron;" bears the undoubted stamp -of genius. His language is a "well of Tuscan undefiled," whence, as from -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">{Pg 129}</a></span> -its purest source, all future writers have drawn the rules and examples -which form the correct and elegant Italian style. It possesses, to an -extraordinary degree, the charm of eloquence. It imports little whence -he drew the groundwork of his tales; yet, as far as we know, many of -them are original, and the stories of Griselda and Cymon, of the pot of -Bazil, and the sorrows of Ghismonda, are unborrowed from any other -writer. The tenderness, the passion, the enthusiasm, the pathos, and -above all, the heartfelt nature of his best tales, raise him to the -highest rank of writers of any age or country. His defects were of the -age. Boccaccio's mind was tarnished by the profligacy of the court of -Naples. He mirrors the licentious manners of the people about him in his -"Decameron:" it were better for human nature, that neither the reality -nor the reflection had ever existed. -</p> - -<p> -The faults of the hook rendered it obnoxious, especially to the priests, -whom he, in common with all the novelists of his time, treats with -galling ridicule. Salvanorola preached against it, and so excited the -minds of his fellow citizens, that they brought all their copies of the -"Decameron," as well as of, it may be remarked, the blameless poetry of -Petrarch and Dante, into the Piazza de' Signori on the last day of the -carnival of 1497, and made a bonfire of them: on which account the -earlier editions of these books are very rare. After Salvanorola, it -continued on the list of prohibited books. This occasioned emended -editions to be published,—some of which were so altered as scarcely -to retain any thing of the original. It was after many years and with great -industry, that the "Decameron" was restored. The first entire edition -was published through the care of a society of young Florentines, who -were ashamed of the disgraceful condition to which this celebrated work -was reduced: this was published in 1527, and goes by the name of the -"Ventisettana," or twenty-seventh, and of the "Delphin." After this, -however, only mutilated editions were printed, and even now, as it still -continues a prohibited book, any perfect edition bears on the title-page -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">{Pg 130}</a></span> -the name of some protestant town, London or Amsterdam, as the place -where it is printed. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1350.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -37.</span></p> - -<p> -To return to the author. During the year of the jubilee Boccaccio -returned to Florence, and the lady Mary was spoken of no more, except in -a sonnet, written many years after, on the death of Petrarch, which -alludes to her death. He addresses his lost friend as having entered -that heavenly kingdom after which he had long aspired, that he might -again see Laura, and where his beautiful Fiammetta sat with her before -God. Whether the lady died, therefore, before or after his removal to -Florence cannot be told; we have his own authority for knowing, that by -this time his ardent passion was subdued into calm affection. His father -as well as his mother-in-law was dead, and they had left a young son -Jacopo, to whom Boccaccio became guardian. His pecuniary resources had -been derived through his father from Florence, and it became necessary -to take his place in that city. From this time he continued to reside in -Tuscany, and to fulfil the duties of a citizen. One of the occurrences -that marked his return, was a visit from Petrarch, who passed through -Florence on his return from his pilgrimage to Rome, on occasion of the -jubilee. They were already in correspondence; and Boccaccio had seen the -poet in his glory nine years before at Naples. But now they met for the -first time as friends, and that intimacy commenced which lasted till the -end of their lives. -</p> - -<p> -Boccaccio, on returning to his native city, entered on a busier scene of -life from that which he led among the Neapolitan nobles. He was sent -almost immediately on various embassies to the Ordelaffi, to Malalesta, -and to Polenta, lords of various towns of Romagna, for the purpose of -engaging them in a league against the Visconti, who, being lords of the -powerful city of Milan, and having lately acquired the signorship of -Bologna, were desirous of extending their princely dominions beyond the -Apennines. -</p> - -<p> -He had soon after the happiness of being the bearer to Petrarch of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">{Pg 131}</a></span> -decree of the republic of Florence, which restored his patrimony, and -the letters which invited him to fill a professor's chair in their new -university. -<span class="sidenote1">1351.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -38.</span> -During this visit they cemented their friendship. Petrarch was then -residing at Padua, and his friend remained some weeks in his house. -Boccaccio read or copied Petrarch's works, while the other pursued his -ordinary studies; and in the evening they sat in the poet's garden, -which was adorned with the flowers and verdure of spring, and spent -hours in delightful conversation. Their hearts were laid bare to each -other, they sympathised in their taste for ancient learning, in their -love for their country, and in the views they entertained for the -welfare of Italy.<a name="NoteRef_71_1" id="NoteRef_71_1"></a><a href="#Note_71_1" class="fnanchor">[71]</a> Boccaccio brought back to Florence Petrarch's -expressed intention to visit his native city. But other feelings -interposed—probably the poet was averse to mingle too nearly with the -violent factions that agitated the republic. He soon after made a -journey to Vaucluse, and never again entered Tuscany. -</p> - -<p> -Boccaccio was more of a citizen than his friend, and he fulfilled -several offices intrusted to him by the government. Florence was at that -time a little empire in itself, agitated by tumults, divided by -intestine quarrels, and disturbed by wars with the neighbouring states. -Scarce a day passed without an event. The citizens were full of energy -and fire; volatile and rash, sometimes they acted a cowardly, sometimes -a magnanimous part. They were restless and versatile—but ambitious, -and full of that quick intuitive genius which, even now, in their fallen -state, belongs to them. They were at enmity with the Visconti, who -incited against them the hostility of the great company, a band of -mercenary troops, the off-pourings of the invasion of France by the -English, which had entered Italy, and sold their services to different -standards, or made war on their own account for booty only. The peasants -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">{Pg 132}</a></span> -of the Florentine territory had gone out valiantly against them, and -afterwards, assisted by the whole forces of the state, they attacked and -destroyed these pernicious bandits. Still the Visconti continued -powerful and implacable enemies. -<span class="sidenote2">1353.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -40.</span> -Boccaccio was sent to Bohemia to invite Louis of Bavaria, Marquis of -Brandenburgh, to come to the assistance of Florence and its league. -<span class="sidenote2">1354.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -41.</span> -At another time he was despatched to Avignon, on occasion of the -entrance of the emperor Charles into Italy, to discover the intentions -of the pope with regard to this monarch. -</p> - -<p> -These political negotiations could not be carried on by Boccaccio -without inspiring him with violent party feelings: he hated the Visconti -as tyrants, and as disturbers of the peace of Italy. He heard with pain -and indignation that Petrarch had taken up his abode at Milan, under the -protection of its archbishop and lord, Giovanni Visconti. He wrote to -his friend to express his regret and disapprobation. "I would be -silent," he wrote, "but I cannot; reverence restrains, but indignation -impels me to speak. How has Petrarch forgotten his dignity, the -conversations which we have held together concerning the state of Italy, -his hatred of the archbishop, his love of solitude and independence, so -far as to imprison himself at the court of Milan? As easily could I -believe that the wolf fled the lamb, and the tiger became the prey of -the fawn, as that Petrarch should act against the dictates of his -conscience; and that he who called the Visconti a Polyphemus, and a -monster of pride, cruelty, and despotism, should place himself under his -yoke. How could Visconti win that which no pontiff, which neither Robert -of Naples nor the emperor could obtain? Have you done this because the -citizens of your native town have treated you with contempt, and taken -back the patrimony which they at one time restored?"<a name="NoteRef_72_1" id="NoteRef_72_1"></a><a href="#Note_72_1" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">{Pg 133}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -Petrarch's answer was moderate; his habits were peaceful and recluse, -and he preferred trusting an absolute prince who was attached to him, -with his safety, to confiding to the caprice of a mob. Personal -intercourse also had shown him that the man whom he had denounced so -bitterly from political animosity, was worthy of private friendship: he -Avas unwilling to enter the very focus of dissention, such as Florence -then was, and he sacrificed his public hatred to the gentler feelings of -personal friendship and gratitude. "It is not likely," he says in his -answer, "that I should learn servitude in my old age; but if I become -dependent, is it not better to submit to one, than, like you, to a whole -people of tyrants?" Petrarch was a patriot in an elevated sense of the -word: he exerted himself to civilise his country, and to spread abroad -the blessings of knowledge; peace was his perpetual cry; but in the -various tyrannies that distracted Italy, he saw the same ambition under -different forms; and taking no part with one against the other, but with -the general good against them all, he held himself free to select his -friends as sympathy and kindness dictated. -</p> - -<p> -Boccaccio continued to correct and add to his Decameron, which it is -conjectured was published at this time. It spread rapidly through Italy; -its popularity astounded even the author, and must have gratified him, -though aware of its errors, and tendency to injure the principles of -social life. This sentiment increased in after-times, so that he -reproached his friend Mainardo de' Cavalcanti, a Florentine by birth, -but living at the court of the queen of Naples, for having promised his -wife and other ladies of his house that they should read the Decameron. -He entreats him to revoke this promise for his own sake, and theirs, -that their minds might not be contaminated by narrations in which -delicacy and even decency were forgotten; "and if not for their sake," -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">{Pg 134}</a></span> -he continues, "for the sake of my honour. They will, on reading it, -think me the most wicked and licentious of men; for who will be near to -allege in my excuse that I wrote it while young, and urged to the work -by commands not to be disobeyed?" -</p> - -<p> -Worse for the fame of Boccaccio than the blots that slur the beauty of -the Decameron, is a work, which it is to be lamented fell from his pen. -This was entitled the "Corbaccio." He fell in love with a beautiful and -noble widow of Florence, who treated him with scorn and derision, and he -revenged himself by this production, in which he vilifies the whole sex -in general, and this lady in particular, in a style that prevents any -one of the present day from attempting to read it. -</p> - -<p> -While we lament such gross ill taste, it is agreeable to forget it, and -to record and remember the vast benefits which Boccaccio bestowed on -mankind, through his ardent and disinterested love of letters, and -especially his extraordinary efforts to create and diffuse a knowledge -of the Greek language and writers. In this labour he far excelled -Petrarch, who possessed a Homer, but was unable to read it. -</p> - -<p> -He proved his enthusiasm in the most undeniable manner. He was born -poor, even to privation; yet he spent large sums of money in the -acquisition of ancient manuscripts: he transcribed many with his own -hand. His labours in this way were immense: many volumes of the poets, -orators, and historians, were copied by him: among these are mentioned -the whole of the works of Tacitus and Livy, Terence and Boetius, with -various treatises of Cicero and Varro, besides many of the productions -of the fathers. He made journeys in search of manuscripts, and records -one anecdote, which shows how often disappointment must have attended -his labours. He visited the celebrated convent of Monte Cassino, under -the idea that he might find some ancient manuscripts, hitherto unknown. -He asked for the library, and was taken up a ladder into a loft, exposed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">{Pg 135}</a></span> -to the weather, where the books were lying on the floor moth-eaten, and -covered with damp mould. While he indignantly regarded the materials of -learning which lay desolate before him, he was told, to add to his -horror, that the monks were in the habit of effacing the writing from -their venerable parchments, and of replacing it by scraps from the -ritual, for which they found a ready sale among the neighbouring -villagers. -</p> - -<p> -Nor was his enthusiasm, like Petrarch's, confined to the ancients. He -could not only feel and appreciate the genius of Dante, but exerted -himself to inspire others with the admiration with which he was filled. -He awoke the Florentines to a just sense of the merits of this sublime -poet, and persuaded them to erect a professorship in their university -for the explanation of the Divina Commedia. He himself first filled the -chair, and wrote a commentary on several of the books, besides a Life of -Dante. This has been usually considered unauthentic, but it is difficult -to see on what grounds this judgment rests. He takes the account of -Dante's love of Beatrice from his own work of the Vita Nuova; and in all -other particulars of his life the information he gives is slight; but, -as far as we are enabled to form an opinion, correct. His genuine -enthusiasm for the beauties of his favourite author led him to regret -that Petrarch did not sufficiently admire him. He copied for his use the -whole of his poem with care and elegance, and sent it to the laureate, -with a poetic epistle, in which he besought him to bestow more attention -and admiration on their illustrious countryman. Petrarch was bigoted to -the notion that any thing written in the vulgar tongue was beneath the -regard of a learned man; and received his present with a coldness that -penetrates through his assumed praises. This celebrated manuscript -belongs to the Vatican library. The epistle mentioned is addressed "To -Francis Petrarch, illustrious and only poet," and is subscribed "thy -Giovanni da Certaldo." The manuscript is illuminated, and the arms of -Petrarch, consisting of a gold bar in an azure field, with a star, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">{Pg 136}</a></span> -adorns the head of each canto. There are a few notes of emendation, and -the whole is written in a clear and beautiful hand. By a strange -oversight, no care has been taken to collate any modern edition of Dante -with this celebrated copy. -</p> - -<p> -Boccaccio's endeavours to promote the study of Greek were still more -eminent and singular. At a time when literature was just struggling into -notice, it was not strange that a foreign tongue should be entirely -forgotten. The knowledge of Greek had been slightly spread during the -crusades, when the inhabitants of the West frequently visited -Constantinople; and afterwards the commercial relations of Venice and -Genoa prevented it from being wholly extinguished. But the language thus -brought into use was merely colloquial, and was to a great degree -superseded by the Lingua Franca. Petrarch had read a few of the -dialogues of Plato with bishop Barlaam, but his knowledge was very -slight. To Boccaccio the praise is due of unwearied and successful -labour in the cause of Hellenic literature. He had studied, while at -Naples, under Barlaam and Paolo Perugino; but his chief efforts had -their date from the period of his establishing himself at Florence. Poor -as he was, he spared no expense in collecting manuscripts, so that it is -suspected that all the Greek books possessed by the Tuscans, and all the -knowledge of them diffused through Europe, before the taking of -Constantinople, which was extensive, at least in Italy, was derived from -the labours, and procured at the expense, of Boccaccio. When he visited -Petrarch at Milan, the laureate mentioned to him incidentally, one -Leonzio Pilato, a Calabrian, who, having spent almost all his life in -Greece, called himself a native of that country. This man possessed a -perfect knowledge of the language: Petrarch had met him at Verona, and -they read a few passages of Homer together. Boccaccio saw in this a -favourable opportunity for facilitating his laudable attempt to make the -Greek language a part of the liberal education of his countrymen. Pilato -was at Venice: Boccaccio obtained a decree from the Florentine -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">{Pg 137}</a></span> -government for the erection of a Greek professorship in their -university, carried it to Venice, and persuaded Pilato to accept the -office, and to return with him to Florence, where he lodged him at his -own house.<a name="NoteRef_73_1" id="NoteRef_73_1"></a><a href="#Note_73_1" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> They laboured together to make a Latin translation of -Homer, which Boccaccio transcribed with his own hand. The total want of -lexicons and grammars rendered the undertaking inconceivably arduous; -and not least among the difficulties with which Boccaccio had to -struggle was the violent, untameable, and morose disposition of his -guest. This was the man whom Petrarch supposed could never have smiled, -and whose manners were so savage, that he declared that not even his -love of Greek could induce him to invite him a second time to his house. -His aspect was repulsive, his habits disgusting, his conversation gloomy -and unsocial. He was proud and violent, and, detesting the Italians, -made no secret of his abhorrence; and, discontented with himself and -others, he was always wishing himself elsewhere than where he was. Yet -the courteous and amiable Boccaccio, who was accustomed to the -refinement of a court, and who loved the elegance and gaiety of society, -kept him under his roof for three years, humouring his whims, and -studying in his company. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile his moral habits underwent a beneficial change, owing to the -admonitions and example of Petrarch. -<span class="sidenote1">1359.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -46.</span> -He visited this excellent man at Milan, and spent several weeks in an -intimate intercourse, which was of the greatest service to him to the -end of his days. Petrarch, whose soul was purified by the struggles of -his passion for a noble-minded woman, taught him that learning was of -small avail to its possessor, unless combined with moral principle and -virtuous habits. These conversations awoke in Boccaccio's mind a desire -to vanquish his passions. He saw and loved the example of delicacy and -honour set him by his friend; and although he could not all at once -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">{Pg 138}</a></span> -succeed in imitating him, he became aware of what his duties were: his -conscience awoke, and a love of right was engendered, which enabled him, -in process of time, to triumph over the habits and vices by which he had -hitherto been enslaved. -</p> - -<p> -A singular circumstance achieved the work begun by his inestimable -friend. Boccaccio's vivacious and sensitive mind could with difficulty -be brought to act from the mere influence of reason. But the change -which a love of moral truth and the dictates of good taste were -inefficacious to operate, was brought about by the agency of -superstition and fear. -<span class="sidenote2">1361.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -48.</span> -One day a Carthusian monk arrived at Certaldo, and demanded an interview -with Boccaccio, who received him with kindness, and listened to him with -attention. The monk first related, that there had lately lived in his -convent at Siena a brother named Pietro Petroni, a man of singular -piety, who was accustomed to pray with extreme fervour for the -conversion of the wicked. On his death-bed he had called his companion, -Giovacchino Ciani, to his bedside, and gave him various messages, to be -delivered to a number of persons, to the purport that they should change -their lives, and study how to be saved. As soon as the monk was dead, -Ciani departed to fulfil his commission, and in the first place came to -Certaldo. He then made an exposition of Boccaccio's errors, and above -all of the wide-spreading evils occasioned by his writings, and which -were a snare and a temptation to the young, imploring him to turn his -talents, which he had hitherto exerted in the service of the spirit of -evil, to the glory of God and the saints; telling him that he had been -incited by a vain glory, which made him rather seek the applause of the -world than the favour of his Creator; and what reward could he expect, -except eternal punishment hereafter? "I do not spare your ears," -continued the zealous Ciani, "and am the less scrupulous, because -Petroni speaks through me, who is now looking down from heaven upon us. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">{Pg 139}</a></span> -Therefore, in the words of that blessed man, I exhort, entreat, and -command you to change your sinful course of life, to cast aside your -poetical studies, and to become a disciple and inculcator of divine -truth. If you refuse to obey my voice, I predict, in his name, a -miserable end to your depravity, and a speedier death than you -anticipate; so that your profane studies and life shall at once be -brought to an end;" and to add the force of supernatural revelation to -his words, he communicated to Boccaccio several events of his life, -which he presumed to be only known to himself, but which had been -revealed to the monk by Petroni; and then he took his leave, saying, -that he was about to fulfil a similar mission to several others, and -that among them he should visit Petrarch. -</p> - -<p> -Boccaccio was aghast. Superstitious fear shook his soul; he gave -credulous ear to what he was told, and resolved to give himself up to -sacred studies and penitence. His first impulse was to sell his library -and to abandon poetry altogether: meanwhile he communicated the visit he -had received, and the effect that it had on him, to his dear friend and -monitor, Petrarch. -</p> - -<p> -Petrarch had subjected himself, during all his life, to moral -discipline; he was a self-seeker and a self-reprover. He was not so -easily shaken from the calm tenor of his piety and faith by prognostics -and denunciations; he replied to his friend in a letter full of good -sense and kind feeling. In those days a letter was a treatise; ancient -history was ransacked, and the whole learning of the writer poured out -in a torrent. But there are passages which deserve to be quoted. -"Falsehood and imposture," he wrote, "often disguise themselves in the -habit of religion; but I will not pronounce any decided opinion till I -have seen the messenger. The age of the man, his countenance, eyes, -manners, gestures, his voice and words, and, above all, the sum and -purport of what he says, will serve to enlighten me. It is announced to -you that you have but a short time to live, and that you must renounce -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">{Pg 140}</a></span> -poetry and profane literature. These words at first filled me with -consternation and grief. How could I anticipate your death without -tears? But, on further reflection, I am led to consider that you look -with terror and regret on what ought really to be a matter of rejoicing, -for thus you are detached from the world, and brought, as we all ought, -to meditate upon death, and to aspire to that height where no worldly -temptation intrudes to contaminate the soul. You will learn from these -admonitions to control your passions, and to reform your habits of life. -But I exhort you not to abandon hooks and learning, which nauseate and -injure the weak only, but which invigorate and comfort the -strong-minded." -</p> - -<p> -After placing these considerations in various and strong lights, -Petrarch concludes by saying, "If you continue to adhere to your -purpose, and determine not only to relinquish study, but to cast aside -the instruments of learning, I shall be delighted to possess your books; -and I would rather buy them, than that the library of so great a man -should be scattered abroad in the world.<a name="NoteRef_74_1" id="NoteRef_74_1"></a><a href="#Note_74_1" class="fnanchor">[74]</a> I cannot name a price, not -knowing their value nor number. Think of these things, and reflect -whether you cannot, as I have long wished, pass the remainder of your -days with me. As to your debt to me, I do not know of it, nor understand -this foolish scruple of conscience. You owe me nothing except love; nor -that, since each day you pay me: except, indeed, that, receiving -continually from me, you still continue to owe. You complain of poverty. -I will not bring forward the usual consolations, nor allege the examples -of illustrious men, for you know them already. I applaud you for having -preferred poverty, combined with independence, to the riches and slavery -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">{Pg 141}</a></span> -that were offered you; but I do not praise you for refusing the -solicitations of a friend. I am not able to enrich you; if I were I -should use neither words nor pen, but speak to you in deeds. But what is -sufficient for one is enough for two; one house may surely suffice for -those who have but one heart. Your disinclination to come injures me, -and it is more injurious if you doubt my sincerity." -</p> - -<p> -Boccaccio was convinced by his friend, and the excess of his penitence -and zeal died away; but the reform of his moral character was permanent. -He adopted the clerical dress, and endeavoured to suppress those -writings which scandalised the pious. -</p> - -<p> -He was very poor: his patrimony was slender, and shared with his brother -Jacopo, and diminished also by various expenses incurred in his zeal to -procure books and advance learning. He had passed a life of freedom, -however, and shrunk from servitude. The passage in Petrarch's letter -which refers to this, concerns his having refused the honourable and -lucrative, but onerous post, of apostolic secretary; nor was he tempted -by Petrarch's invitation, being unwilling to burthen one whose means -were very limited. He, however, fell into a most painful mistake when he -accepted the offer of a wealthy patron, which originated pride, and not -affection. -</p> - -<p> -The seneschal Acciajuolo was a Florentine, settled at Naples; he had -long been the counsellor and friend of Louis, prince of Tarento, second -husband of queen Jane. He had accompanied him in his flight to France, -and stood by him during his adversity. When the affairs of Naples were -settled, and Jane and Louis restored to the throne, Acciajuolo became -the first man in the kingdom: he was made seneschal; but his power and -influence were limited by no mere place. -<span class="sidenote1">1363.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -50.</span> -He had pretensions to learning, and was the friend and correspondent of -Petrarch: he was proud and arrogant, and wished to be esteemed a -munificent man. He invited Boccaccio to come and take up his abode in -his palace at Naples, and to employ himself in writing a history of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">{Pg 142}</a></span> -seneschal's life. Boccaccio was seduced, by a belief in the reality of -his friendship and the nobleness of his generosity, to accept his offer. -He was received by the great man with apparent pleasure, and with many -promises of future benefit; but he was undeceived as to the kindness of -his welcome, when he was led to the chamber destined for his -accommodation. The seneschal lived in a magnificent palace, adorned with -all the luxuries known in those days: the room assigned to Boccaccio was -mean and squalid; it contained one dirty, ill-furnished bed, for himself -and his brother Jacopo, and he was placed at the same table with the -stable boys and the lower servants of the house, together with a whole -host of needy hangers-on. Boccaccio's necessities were not so great as -to force him to endure this unworthy treatment, and his spirit revolted -against it. He removed at once to the house of his friend, Mainardo de' -Cavalcanti, by whom he was cordially and honourably received; and -finding, on a second trial, to which he was urged by the servile advice -of some friends, that Acciajuolo was wholly ignorant of the duties of -hospitality, and totally deficient in generosity and delicacy, he left -Naples and proceeded to Venice. -</p> - -<p> -He here passed three happy months with Petrarch. The Greek, Leonzio -Pilato, joined them. Their society consisted of either learned men, or -the Venetian nobility; and the friends reaped great enjoyment from the -intimacy and unreserve of their intercourse. After the lapse of three -months Boccaccio returned to Florence, though the plague was raging -there, and Petrarch entertained a thousand fears on his account. -</p> - -<p> -An abode in Florence was nevertheless ill suited to the new course of -life which he proposed to himself. The city was perpetually disturbed by -domestic strife, or the treachery of the foreign princes, whom they -called in to their assistance in time of war. Boccaccio retreated from -this scene of discord, and took up his abode at the castle of Certaldo, -where he gave himself entirely up to study: his house there is still to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">{Pg 143}</a></span> -be seen. Certaldo is situated on a hill, and looks down on the fertile -valley watered by the river Elsa.<a name="NoteRef_75_1" id="NoteRef_75_1"></a><a href="#Note_75_1" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> The country around is picturesque, -adorned by various castles and rustic villages. The culture of corn, -vines, and olives, adorns the depth of the valley and the uplands; and -three successive harvests are brought in by the husbandman. Here -Boccaccio composed most of his later works, and the influence of -Petrarch is perceptible in his choice of subjects and language. This is -to be greatly lamented, since his desertion of Italian was founded upon -a mistake, which has given us, instead of works of imagination and -genius, heavy treatises and inaccurate histories. Boccaccio's Latin is -bald and tame; he knew nothing of the structure, and was unable to -clothe his thoughts with the eloquence natural to him: he rattled the -dry bones of the skeleton of a dead language, instead of making use of -the young and vigorous tongue to which he had given birth. -</p> - -<p> -His first work, under this new direction, was one of great labour and -erudition for those times, and was entered upon at the suggestion of Ugo -IV., king of Cyprus and Jerusalem. It treats of the genealogy of the -gods, and relates the connection between the various deities of the -beautiful Greek mythology. For many years it continued to be a standard -book, whence the Italians drew all their knowledge of the subject; and -it was doubtless a useful production. In pursuance of his plan of being -the schoolmaster of his age, and introducing his countrymen to the -knowledge of forgotten lore, he afterwards composed a dictionary of -ancient rivers, mountains, and forests. His active mind was always -finding new subjects for his pen. He discovered that the female sex -possessed no historian, and he dedicated himself to their service by -writing the lives of illustrious women. In this he describes the ideal -of a virtuous matron, and goes to the extreme usual to a reformed -libertine. Her conduct must not only be strictly correct, but she must -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">{Pg 144}</a></span> -not even look about her; she must speak little, eat little, and avoid -singing and dancing. Given up to domestic cares, she must be simple in -her dress, and even love her husband moderately. He wrote after this a -work entitled, "De Casibus Virorum et Fæminarum Illustrium," in which -he records the disasters and adversity which history relates to have -befallen royal or noble personages. Thus his time was entirely spent -among his books, and he acquired a reputation for learning and purity of -life, which raised him high in the opinion of his fellow citizens. -</p> - -<p> -He was, in consequence, appointed, on two occasions, ambassador to pope -Urban V. -<span class="sidenote2">1365.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -52.</span> -In fulfilment of the first mission, he went to Avignon, where he was -honourably received, especially by Philip de Cabassoles, the intimate -and beloved friend of Petrarch. On his return, he was very desirous of -passing from Genoa to Pavia, to see the laureate; but the duties of his -embassy forbade. To indemnify himself, he projected a visit to him at -Venice. There is a Latin letter of his extant, which gives an -interesting account of this latter journey: it is addressed to Petrarch, -whom he missed, as he was again gone to Pavia. Boccaccio did not hear of -this circumstance till he reached Bologna; and it almost made him give -up his journey. "On my road," he writes, "I encountered Francesco (<i>the -son-in-law of Petrarch</i>), to my great delight. After a glad and friendly -meeting, I began to observe the person of this man. His placid -countenance, measured language, and mild manners pleased me: I praised -your choice, as I praise all you do." On his arrival at Venice, "I -received," he says, "many invitations, and accepted that of Francesco -Allegri. I would not avail myself of your kind offer, and take up my -abode under your daughter's roof, during the absence of her husband. I -should have preferred going to an inn to being the cause of the scandal -that might have arisen, despite my grey hairs and fat unwieldy figure." -</p> - -<p> -"I went, however, to see Francesca; who, when she heard of my arrival, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">{Pg 145}</a></span> -came to meet me with gladness, as if you yourself had returned: yet, -when she saw me, she was abashed, blushed, and cast down her eyes; and -then, after a timid welcome, she embraced me with filial and modest -affection. After conversing together some little time, we went into your -garden, and found several of your friends assembled. Here, in explicit -and kind terms, she offered me your house, your books, and every thing -belonging to you, in a matronly and becoming manner. While we were -conversing, your beloved little granddaughter came up: she looked -smilingly at me, and I took her with delight in my arms. At first, -methought I saw my own child<a name="NoteRef_76_1" id="NoteRef_76_1"></a><a href="#Note_76_1" class="fnanchor">[76]</a>: her face resembles hers—the same -smile, the same laughing eyes; the gestures, gait, and carriage of her -person, though a little taller—for mine was only five years and a -half old when I last saw her—were all similar: if their dialect had -been the same, their expressions would have resembled in their simplicity. -I saw no difference, except that yours has golden hair, and that of mine -was black. Alas! while caressing and charmed by her talk, the recollection -of my loss drew tears from my eyes; so that I turned my face away, to -conceal my emotion." -</p> - -<p> -"I cannot tell you all that Francesco said and did upon his return; his -frequent visits when he found that I would not remove to his house; and -how hospitably he entertained me. One incident will suffice: knowing -that I was poor, which I never denied, on my departure from Venice, at a -late hour, he withdrew with me into another part of his house; and, -after taking leave, he stretched out his long arms, and, putting a purse -into my hands, made his escape, before I could expostulate with or thank -him." -</p> - -<p> -After having been gratified by these tokens of real friendship, -Boccaccio suffered one of those mortifying disappointments which too -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">{Pg 146}</a></span> -often occur to those who are ready to trust to the good-will and offers -of assistance of men who call themselves their friends. Niccolo di -Montefalcone, abbot of the celebrated Carthusian monastery of San -Stefano in Calabria, invited him to take up his abode with him, -describing the agreeable situation of his house, its select library, and -the leisure to be enjoyed there. -<span class="sidenote2">1370.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -57.</span> -Boccaccio accepted the invitation, and made the journey. He arrived late -at night before the gates of the secluded monastery; but, instead of the -welcome he expected, he found that the abbot had left the convent -hastily, in the middle of the night, on purpose to avoid him. Boccaccio, -justly indignant, wrote an angry letter, and, leaving the inhospitable -retreat, repaired to Naples, where he was again cordially received by -his friend Mainardo de' Cavalcanti. -</p> - -<p> -During his visit to Naples, Boccaccio received many offers of -hospitality and patronage: among others, queen Jane of Naples, and -Giacomo king of Majorca, endeavoured to persuade him to enter into their -service; but Boccaccio was naturally proud and independent: he had been -duped by an appearance of friendship, but recoiled from a state of -servitude: he preferred his quiet home at Certaldo to the favours of the -great; nor could the renewed solicitations of Petrarch induce him to -change his mind; and he returned to Tuscany. -<span class="sidenote2">1372.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -59.</span> -<span class="sidenote2">1373.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -60.</span> -When he visited Naples again, it was merely for the sake of seeing his -friends, without any ulterior view, and he quickly returned to the quiet -of Certaldo, where he busied himself in the publication of his work of -the "Genealogy of the Gods." -</p> - -<p> -Age and infirmity advanced on him before their time: he was attacked by -a painful and disagreeable disease, which rendered life a burthen to -him. He lost his strength, and the powers of his understanding; his -limbs became heavy, and the light of heaven intolerable; his memory was -impaired, and his books no longer afforded him any pleasure. His -thoughts were fixed upon the tomb, towards which he believed himself to -be rapidly approaching. After having continued in this state for several -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">{Pg 147}</a></span> -months, he was one day seized with a violent fever, which increased -towards night. His disturbed thoughts turned towards the past: his life -appeared to him to have been wasted, and fruitful only of remorse. No -friend was near him: his sole attendant was an old nurse, who, unable to -penetrate the cause of his disquietude, annoyed him by her meaningless -and vulgar consolations. His fever increased; he believed himself to be -dying, and he feared to die. His courage, which had until now sustained, -all at once deserted him. Hitherto he had avoided physicians, having no -faith in the art: he was now driven to send for one, whose remedies -afforded him relief, and restored him to some portion of health.<a name="NoteRef_77_1" id="NoteRef_77_1"></a><a href="#Note_77_1" class="fnanchor">[77]</a> -</p> - -<p> -The energy of his mind returned with his bodily strength. He had -laboured long to induce the Florentine government to bestow some -honourable testimonial on the memory of the illustrious Dante. At -length, a decree was promulgated, instituting a professorship for the -public explanation of the "Divina Commedia," so to promote, as it was -expressed, the advancement of learning and virtue among the living and -their posterity. The professorship was bestowed upon Boccaccio: he -received a salary of one hundred florins a year, and delivered his -lectures in the church of San Stefano. The result was his commentary on -the first seventeen cantos of the "Inferno," written in a clear, simple, -and elegant style, full of excellent criticism and valuable -illustrations. -</p> - -<p> -Thus the remnants of his failing strength were spent upon doing honour -to the memory of the celebrated poet, whose genius he so warmly and -generously admired, and a depreciation of whom is the sole blot on the -otherwise faultless character of Petrarch: but, while he roused his -intellects to understand and comment upon the delicate and sublime -beauties of Dante, his physical strength decayed, and his sensibility -received a severe shock from the death of his beloved friend Petrarch. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">{Pg 148}</a></span> -<span class="sidenote2">1374.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -61.</span> -He heard it first by public report; and it was afterwards confirmed to -him in a letter from Francesco Brossano, the laureate's son-in-law, who -transmitted to him the legacy of fifty florins, for the purchase of a -fur dress for his winter studies. Boccaccio wrote, in return, a letter -full of grief and admiration. "He did not mourn," he said, "for the -dead, who was receiving the reward of his virtues, but for those who -survived him, and were abandoned to the tempestuous sea of life without -a pilot." He would have visited his tomb had his health permitted; and -he besought Brossano to take care of his posthumous reputation, and to -publish his poem of "Africa," which was only known to the world in -fragments. In compliance with his request, Brossano had the poem copied, -and sent it to him; but he did not live to receive it. -</p> - -<p> -He felt his end approaching, and Petrarch's death loosened his last tie -to earth. He made his will, and named the sons of his brother Jacopo his -heirs. He left legacies to those to whom he owed return for friendship -and services; and he concluded, by leaving his library, in the first -instance, to his spiritual director, Martino da Signa, to go, after his -death, to the convent of the Spirito Santo, at Florence, for the benefit -of the studious. -</p> - -<p> -He survived Petrarch one year only, and died at Certaldo, on the 21st -December, 1375, in the 63d year of his age. His death was occasioned by -a malady of small moment in itself, but fatal in his debilitated state, -and aggravated by his continual application. He was buried at Certaldo, -in the church of SS. Jacopo and Filippo. His son presided at his -funeral, and erected a tomb, on which was inscribed a Latin epitaph, -composed by Boccaccio himself, in which he mentions that honourable love -of literature which characterised him through life:—"<i>Patria -Certaldum; studium fuit alma poesis.</i>" He was lamented throughout Italy; -but his loss was chiefly deplored in his native city, as, during his -residence there, he had redeemed his early follies by a course of life -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">{Pg 149}</a></span> -devoted to the cultivation of literature and religion, and the duties of a -citizen. While all read with delight the purer productions of his -imaginative genius, the learned of every age must feel grateful to his -unwearied labours in the preservation of the ancient manuscripts, many of -which, but for him, had been lost for ever to the world. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">{Pg 150}</a></span> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_58_1" id="Note_58_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_58_1"><span class="label">[58]</span></a>Genealogia Deorum.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_59_1" id="Note_59_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_59_1"><span class="label">[59]</span></a>Baldelli.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_60_1" id="Note_60_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_60_1"><span class="label">[60]</span></a>Filippo Villani.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_61_1" id="Note_61_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_61_1"><span class="label">[61]</span></a>Geneal. Deor.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_62_1" id="Note_62_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_62_1"><span class="label">[62]</span></a>Geneal. Deor.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_63_1" id="Note_63_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_63_1"><span class="label">[63]</span></a>Ibid.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_64_1" id="Note_64_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_64_1"><span class="label">[64]</span></a>Tiraboschi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_65_1" id="Note_65_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_65_1"><span class="label">[65]</span></a>Filocopo.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_66_1" id="Note_66_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_66_1"><span class="label">[66]</span></a>This lady Mary cannot be the princess Mary, an -acknowledged natural daughter of king Robert. The latter was beheaded -during the troubles at Naples, a year after Boccaccio's death. The poems -of Boccaccio declare that he outlived his lady Mary, Fiammetta, as he -called her, many years; and his writings give proof that her royal and -illegitimate origin was always preserved a secret.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_67_1" id="Note_67_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_67_1"><span class="label">[67]</span></a>La Fiammetta.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_68_1" id="Note_68_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_68_1"><span class="label">[68]</span></a>Rime.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_69_1" id="Note_69_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_69_1"><span class="label">[69]</span></a>Ameto.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_70_1" id="Note_70_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_70_1"><span class="label">[70]</span></a>Baldelli.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_71_1" id="Note_71_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_71_1"><span class="label">[71]</span></a>Petrarch's Letters.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_72_1" id="Note_72_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_72_1"><span class="label">[72]</span></a>This singular circumstance is not noticed by Petrarch in -any of his letters. Did the Florentines act thus to punish him for his -journey to Avignon, at the time they had invited him to take up his -abode among them? Yet, on another occasion, the citizens petitioned the -pope to give the poet a benefice within their walls, and so induce him -to inhabit their city. Perhaps the expression used in Boccaccio's letter -is ironical.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_73_1" id="Note_73_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_73_1"><span class="label">[73]</span></a>Guignenè.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_74_1" id="Note_74_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_74_1"><span class="label">[74]</span></a>It is not creditable to the learning of those times to -learn, that the libraries of these two great revivers of knowledge were -lost to the world soon after their deaths. Boccaccio's, it is true, was -destroyed by an accident, being burnt when the convent to which he had -left it was consumed by fire. But Petrarch's mouldered away in the -palace given by the republic of Venice for its reception and -preservation, so that dusty fragments were afterwards found to be all -that remained of the venerable parchments which the laureate had -expended so much time and labour in collecting.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_75_1" id="Note_75_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_75_1"><span class="label">[75]</span></a>Baldelli.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_76_1" id="Note_76_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_76_1"><span class="label">[76]</span></a>It is unknown who was the mother of this child, or -grandchild, who died so young. Boccaccio had, besides, one son -established at Florence, whom he does not mention in his will, but who -presided at his funeral, and erected a tomb over his remains.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_77_1" id="Note_77_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_77_1"><span class="label">[77]</span></a>Baldelli, Cod. San. Epist. I.</p></div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="LORENZO_DE_MEDICI">LORENZO DE' MEDICI</a></h4> - -<h5>(considered as a poet);</h5> - -<h4>FICINO, PICO DELLA MIRANDOLA, POLITIAN,<br /> -THE PULCI, etc.</h4> - -<p> -After the deaths of Petrarch and Boccaccio, the cause of learning was, -to a certain degree, lost. The study of Greek and the search for -manuscripts was discontinued. The first person who brought that language -again into notice, was Emanuel Chrysoloras, a noble Greek, who was -frequently sent into Italy on embassies by the emperor of -Constantinople, and employed his leisure in teaching his native tongue -in Florence. His disciples were numerous: among these. Poggio -Bracciolini was the most distinguished. He discovered and collected a -vast number of the most valuable manuscripts. Besides the philosophic -and beautiful poem of Lucretius, we owe to him the complete copies of -Quintilian, Plautus, Statius, Silius Italicus, Columella, and many -others. Several of these exist only from the copy found by him, and were -thus rescued from certain destruction. "I did not find them in -libraries," he says, "which their dignity demanded, but in a dark and -obscure dungeon at the bottom of a tower, in which they were leading the -life of the damned." Filelfo was also an ardent collector. The -discussions between the Roman and Greek churches brought several Greek -scholars and philosophers into Italy, and through them the Platonic -doctrines were known to the Italians. -<span class="sidenote2">1438.</span> -Gemisthus Pletho, who had been master of Chrysoloras, but who survived -him many years, was their chief promulgator. They were in opposition to -the Aristotelian philosophy, which had so long been the only one taught -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">{Pg 151}</a></span> -in the schools of Italy; but their glowing beauty and imagination were -adapted to enchant all who heard them. Cosmo de' Medici became their -convert, and resolved to establish an academy at Florence for their -study and propagation. He caused Marsiglio Ficino, the son of his -favourite physician, to be educated for this purpose by the teachers of -Platonic philosophy. -<span class="sidenote1">1453.</span> -Cosmo was also the founder of the Medicean library. The taking of -Constantinople by the Turks aided the advancement of learning; and while -Cosmo protected many learned Greeks who took refuge at Florence, they -spread refinement and knowledge throughout the peninsula. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1464.</span></p> - -<p> -Cosmo died soon after; and as his son Piero did not long survive him, -Lorenzo succeeded to his wealth and political influence. Lorenzo had -been brought up with solicitous attention. He was fortunate in his -mother. Madonna Lucretia, a lady of considerable talents and -accomplishments, a lover of learning, and patroness of learned men. He -was first the pupil of Gentile d' Urbino, bishop of Arezzo; and -afterwards of Christofero Landino; and a warm attachment subsisted -between master and pupil. He soon gave manifestations of the -magnificence of his disposition; and his love of poetry developed itself -at an early age. After the death of Cosmo, and his father Piero, -however, his life was no longer one of studious leisure or youthful -enjoyment; but visited by many disastrous occurrences. -<span class="sidenote1">1478.</span> -The conspiracy of the Pazzi was directed against his life and that of -his brother. Giuliano was its victim; while he with difficulty escaped -from the poniard of the assassin. He was scarcely free from these -domestic dangers, when he encountered greater foreign ones, from the -implacable enmity of Sixtus VI. This pope leagued almost all Italy -against Florence, declaring at the same time that Lorenzo was the object -of their attack; and that if he were sacrificed, Florence should obtain -peace. Lorenzo maintained the weight of this coalition with firmness and -dignity. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">{Pg 152}</a></span> -<span class="sidenote1">1479.</span> -With heroic gallantry he took the whole responsibility on his own -person, and threw himself into the hands of the king of Naples. -<span class="sidenote2">1480.</span> -His firmness and talents enabled him to induce this monarch to conclude -a treaty beneficial and honourable to Florence, and his authority in the -republic was thus confirmed greater than ever. From this time he -occupied himself by establishing an enduring peace in Italy; not -pursuing his object by pusillanimous concessions, but by an unremitted -attention to the course of events, and sound policy in preserving the -balance of power among the Italian states. -</p> - -<p> -From the anxieties and cares attendant on his public life, he was glad -to find relaxation in the cultivation of poetry and the pursuits of -philosophy. He loved literature and the fine arts, and devoted much of -his time and fortune to their cultivation. He encouraged Greek learning, -and was an enthusiastic Platonist. His chief friends were literary -men—Politian, Marsiglio Ficino, and the three brothers of the name of -Pulci. He busied himself in raising and giving reputation to the -university of Pisa. He instituted a yearly celebration of the -anniversary of Plato's birth and death, and was the cause that his -refined philosophy became the fashion in Italy. All the learned wrote -and spoke Plato; and in Florence in particular, classic learning was an -indispensable qualification in a well-educated man. -</p> - -<p> -One of the chief merits of Lorenzo is derived from the revival of his -native language. A century had elapsed since the golden age of Petrarch -and Boccaccio, but the Italian language, instead of redeeming the -promise of its birth, had remained mute and inglorious. The neglect -which so speedily darkened the native literature, may be attributed to -these very men, and especially to Petrarch, who cast disgrace over what -he called the vulgar tongue, and taught that Latin was the only worthy -medium by which learned men should communicate their ideas—and such -Latin! However, the spirit of improvement, which is the most valuable -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">{Pg 153}</a></span> -attribute of human nature, led the students who succeeded him to -cultivate and understand the implement he placed in their hands. They -applied themselves to a critical examination of Latin; and after all, it -is perhaps, to the bald, unformed Latinity of Petrarch, that we owe the -knowledge which the scholar of the present day possesses of the -construction and delicacies of that language. If he had not taught the -world, that the object chiefly worthy of their ambition was to imitate -the works of Virgil and Cicero, no one had spent the labour necessary to -the entire understanding of the language of the Romans. -</p> - -<p> -Yet, while this advantage was derived from his mistake, imagination and -genius were silenced; little prose and no poetry, either in Latin or the -vulgar tongue, appeared in Italy. The writers educated by Cosmo, -Politian, and Ficino, still adhered to the hereditary error, and wrote -in Latin. Lorenzo first broke through these rules, and expressed in his -native language the fragile and delicate ideas inspired by a poetic -imagination. He ranks high as a poet: he does not possess the sublimity -and grace of Dante, nor the elegance, tenderness, and incomparable -sweetness of Petrarch; but his merits are original and conspicuous: -simplicity and vivacity adorn his verses. His love poems are full of -fire, and come from the heart; his descriptions are delightful, from -their truth, elegance, and flow of fancy throughout; his diction is that -of a genuine poet. -</p> - -<p> -It is singular, that although Lorenzo possessed the germ of real poetry -in his mind, he began to work himself up to writing verses in a manner -that appears cold to our northern imaginations: he resolved to love, and -resolved to write verses on her he loved; yet, being a poet, and a man -whose heart easily opened itself to the warmer affections, no doubt a -great deal of real feeling accompanied his aspirations. He himself gives -the account of all these circumstances in a commentary written on his -first sonnets. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">{Pg 154}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -His brother Guiliano had been deeply attached to a lovely girl named -Simonetta, who died in the bloom of beauty: it is supposed, that he -alludes to her when he describes the excitement caused by the public -funeral of a beautiful young lady, whose admirers crowded round her open -bier, and gazed, for the last time, on the pallid face of the object of -their adoration, which was exposed uncovered to their view, accompanying -the funeral with their tears. All the eloquence and talent of Florence -were exerted to pay honour to her memory in prose and verse. Lorenzo -himself composed a few sonnets, and to give them greater effect, he -tried to imagine that he also was a lover, mourning over the untimely -end of one beloved, and then again he reflected that he might write -still more feelingly, if he could discover a living object, to whom to -address his homage. He looked round among the beauties of Florence, to -discover one whose perfections should satisfy his judgment, as worthy of -inspiring a sincere and constant attachment. At last, at a public -festival, he beheld a girl so lovely and attractive in her appearance, -that, as he gazed on her, he said to himself, "If this person were -possessed of the delicacy, the understanding, and accomplishments of her -who is lately dead, most certainly she excels her in personal charms." -On becoming acquainted with her, he found his fondest dreams realised: -she was perfectly beautiful, clever, vivacious, yet full of dignity and -sweetness. It is a pity that this account rather chills us as we read -his sonnets, and we feel them rather as coming from the head than heart: -yet they are tender and graceful; and it is not difficult for a youth of -an ardent disposition, and an Italian, to love a beautiful girl, even at -the word of command. -</p> - -<p> -One of these sonnets possesses the simplicity and grace which -distinguish Lorenzo's poetry: we give Mr. Roscoe's translation of it, -and yet are not satisfied. Mr. Roscoe wrote at a time when the -common-places of versification, brought in by the imitators of Pope, -were still in vogue; but this observation applies chiefly to the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">{Pg 155}</a></span> -beginning of the sonnet; the conclusion is better, yet the whole wants -the brightness and spring of the original. Happy are those who can refer -to that.<a name="NoteRef_78_1" id="NoteRef_78_1"></a><a href="#Note_78_1" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Seek he who will in grandeur to be blest,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Place in proud halls, and splendid courts, his joy;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">For pleasure or for gold his arts employ,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Whilst all his hours unnumber'd cares molest.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">A little field in native flowrets drest,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">A rivulet in soft numbers gliding by,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">A bird, whose love-sick note salutes the sky,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">With sweeter magic lull my cares to rest.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">And shadowy woods, and rocks, and towering hills,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And caves obscure, and nature's freeborn train,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And some lone nymph that timorous speeds along,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Each in my mind some gentle thought instils</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of those bright eyes that absence shrouds in vain;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ah, gentle thoughts! soon lost the city cares among."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Many sonnets and canzoni were written to celebrate this lady's -perfections and his passion, but he never mentions her name. From -contemporary poets, Politian and Verini, who addressed her, and Valori, -who wrote a life of Lorenzo, we learn, that her name was Lucretia, of -the noble family of Donati; an ancestor of whom, Cuzio Donato, had been -celebrated for his military enterprises. But it is mutual love that -excites our sympathy, and there is no token that Lucretia regarded her -lover with more fervour than he deserved; for, however Verini may -undertake to prove that he was worthy of a return for his attachment, a -different opinion must be formed, when we find that he married a short -time after, not the sighed for Lucretia, but Clarice degli Orsini; and -although the usual excuse is given, that this marriage was consented to -by him to please his relatives, and as he expresses it, "I took for a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">{Pg 156}</a></span> -wife, or rather was given me;" yet as Lucretia must have been the victim -of his obedience, it is agreeable to find that she gave slight ear to -his empty or deceptive protestations. -</p> - -<p> -His other poems were composed as recreation during a busy life, and many -of them are animated by glowing sensibility or light-hearted hilarity. -Among them the most celebrated is "La Nencia da Barbarino," where he -makes a swain praise his mistress in rustic phrase; this is a dangerous -experiment, but Lorenzo perfectly succeeded. His poem is totally devoid -of affectation, and is so charming for its earnestness and simplicity, -that it was repeated and sung by every one in Florence. Many tried to -imitate the style, but vainly; and they complained that, though many -peasant girls were celebrated, La Nencia da Barbarino was the only -rustic beauty who could gain the popular favour. -</p> - -<p> -His Canzoni Carnaleschi are animated and original; he was the inventor -of this style of song. He exerted himself, on all occasions, to vary and -refine the public amusements of Florence, and during the carnival, the -period of gaiety and pleasure in Catholic countries, introduced -processions and dances of a novel and delightful description. It was the -custom of the women to form themselves into bands of twelve, and, linked -hand with hand, to sing as they danced in a circle. Lorenzo composed -several canzoni a ballo, which became favourites for these occasions. -One of these,— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Ven venga Maggio</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E 'l Gonfalon selvaggio," &c.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Welcome, May,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And the rustic banner," &c.—</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -is the prettiest and most spirited song for May ever written. His -processions and masquerades afforded also subjects for verse. Bands of -people paraded the city in character, personating triumphs, or -exhibitions of the arts; and Lorenzo wrote songs, which they chanted as -they passed along. It is singular, that, free and energetic as the -Florentines were, yet the songs composed for them never spoke of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">{Pg 157}</a></span> -liberty, but turned upon love only: love was all their theme—love -that was often licentiousness, and yet described with such truth and -beauty, as must have tended greatly to enervate, and even to vitiate, the -various persons that formed these gay companies. Lorenzo's canzoni are -tainted with this defect. -</p> - -<p> -Lorenzo was a faithful and kind, though not a fond husband. His feelings -were always held in discipline by him; and if he were too sensitive to -the influence of beauty, yet his actions were all regulated by that -excellent sense of justice and duty which is his admirable -characteristic. There are some elegiac stanzas preserved of his, which -prove that he suffered at one time the struggles and errors of passion, -and was subdued by it to other thoughts than those which his reason -approved. How different is this poem to those addressed to Lucretia -Donati. There is no Platonic refinement, no subtlety, no conceit, no -imitation of Petrarch; its diction is clear and sweet; truth and -strength of feeling animate each expression; it bears the stamp of -heartfelt sincerity, and is adorned by all the delicacy which real -passion inspires. "Ah!" he exclaims, "had we been joined in marriage! -Had you been earlier born, or had I come later into the world!" These -stanzas are even left unfinished, and probably were concealed, as -revealing a secret which it would have been fatal to have discovered to -the world. -</p> - -<p> -Besides the animated and gay songs, and choruses, in which Lorenzo is -unrivalled, he wrote several descriptive poems: one long one relates the -history of how his favourite country house, named Ambra, was carried -away by the overflowing of the Ombrone. He figures the villa to be a -nymph, of whom the river god is enamoured, and, like one of Ovid's -heroines, she falls a victim to his pursuit. The descriptions in this -poem are lively, true, and graceful. The "Caccia di Falcone" gives a -spirited detail of the disasters that befall falconers: he bring in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">{Pg 158}</a></span> -several of his friends by name. "Where is Luigi Pulci," he cries, "that -we do not hear him? He is gone before in that grove, for some whim has -seized him, and he has retreated to meditate a sonnet." -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">April<br /> -8.<br /> -1492</span></p> - -<p> -Lorenzo died at the early age of forty-four, of a painful and -inexplicable disorder, which, attacking his stomach, gave rise to the -idea that he was poisoned. He was considerate and affectionate to the -last; endeavouring to impress his system of policy on his son's mind, -and exerting himself to lighten the grief of those around him. Potents -and wonders followed his death, which even Machiavelli, then a very -young man, deemed miraculous. He was universally lamented; and the -downfall of his family, which occurred soon after, through the -misconduct of his eldest son, Piero, renewed the grief of the friends -who survived him. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>MARSIGLIO FICINO</h4> - - -<p> -The literary tastes of Cosmo, the talents and admirable qualities of -Lucretia, the mother of Lorenzo, and the example and protection of -Lorenzo himself, rendered his a golden era for poets and philosophers. -It has been already mentioned, that for the sake of spreading abroad a -knowledge of the Platonic doctrines, Cosmo had caused the son of his -favourite physician to be educated in the study and cultivation of them. -Marsiglio Ficino was born at Florence, on the 18th of October, 1433. His -first studies were directed by Luca Quarqualio, with whom he read -Cicero, and other Latin authors; applying his attention principally to -the mention made of Plato, and already admiring and loving his -philosophy. His father, being poor, sent him to study at Bologna, to the -discontent of Marsiglio; but fortunately, one day, during a casual visit -to Florence, his father led him to Cosmo de' Medici, who, struck with -the intelligence exhibited in his countenance, chose him at once, young -as he was, to be the future support of his Platonic academy; and, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">{Pg 159}</a></span> -turning to the father, said, "You were sent us by heaven to cure the -body, but your son is certainly destined to cure the mind."<a name="NoteRef_79_1" id="NoteRef_79_1"></a><a href="#Note_79_1" class="fnanchor">[79]</a> He -adopted him in his house; and Marsiglio never ceased to testify his -gratitude, and to declare that he had been to him a second father. He -was given up henceforth to Platonism. At the age of twenty-three he -wrote his "Platonic Institutions." Plato was his idol; he talked Plato, -thought Plato, and became almost mad for Plato, and his deepest and most -wonderful mysteries. The celebrated Pico della Mirandola shared his -studies and enthusiasm. It was not, however, till after having written -his "Institutions," that, at the advice of Cosmo, he learnt Greek, the -better to understand his favourite author. He translated, as the first -fruits of this study, the "Hymns of Orpheus" into Latin; he translated, -also, the "Treatise on the Origin of the World," attributed to Hermes -Trismegistus; and, presenting it to Cosimo, he was rewarded by him by the -gift of a <i>podere</i>, or small farm, appertaining to his own villa of -Caneggi near Florence, and a house in the city, besides some magnificent -manuscripts of Plato and Plotinus. -<span class="sidenote1">1468.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -35.</span> -After this Ficino occupied himself by translating the whole of Plato's -works into Latin, which he completed in five years. He afterwards -assumed the clerical profession, and Lorenzo bestowed on him the cure of -two churches, and made him canon of the cathedral of Florence, on which -he gave up his patrimony to his brothers. -<span class="sidenote1">1475.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -42.</span> -He was a disinterested and blameless man: gentle and agreeable in his -manners, no violent passions nor desires disturbed the calm of his mind. -He loved solitude, and delighted to pass his time in the country, in the -society of his philosophic friends. His health was feeble, and he was -subject to severe indispositions, which could not induce him to diminish -the ardour with which he pursued his studies. Sixtus IV., and Mathew -Corvino, king of Hungary, tried to induce him, by magnificent offers, to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">{Pg 160}</a></span> -take up his abode at their several courts, but he would not quit -Florence. Many foreigners, particularly from Germany, visited Italy for -the express purpose of seeing him, and studying under him. He died on -the first of October, 1499, at the age of sixty-six. In the year 1521, a -marble statue was erected in Florence to his memory. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>GIOVANNI PICO DELLA MIRANDOLA</h4> - -<p> -As the name of Pico della Mirandola has been mentioned, it is impossible -not to bestow some attention on a man who was the glory and admiration -of Italy. Giovanni Pico della Mirandola, Conte della Concordia, was born -in the year 1463; his father, Gian Francesco Pico, was lord of Mirandola -and Concordia; his mother's name was Julia Boiarda. From his earliest -years he manifested an extraordinary understanding and memory: he was -naturally disposed to literary and poetic pursuits; but at the age of -fourteen, being destined, as a younger son, for the church, he was sent -to Bologna to study canon law. After two years spent in this way, he -resolved to give himself up to philosophy, and visited the most -celebrated schools of France and Italy, in which, studying under and -disputing with the professors of highest reputation, he acquired an -erudition that made him the wonder and delight of his contemporaries. To -Greek and Latin he added a knowledge of Hebrew, Chaldaic, and Arabic. He -relates how he was enticed by an impostor to purchase, at a high price, -seventy Hebrew manuscripts, which he was told were genuine, and composed -by order of Esdras, and contained the most recondite mysteries of -religion. These were the books of the Cabala, or of the Traditions, -which the Jews believe to have been collected at the command of Esdras. -At the age of twenty-three Pico visited Rome, during the reign of -Innocent VIII.; and here he published 900 propositions—dialectic, -moral, physical, mathematical, theological, &c. &c.—offering -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">{Pg 161}</a></span> -to dispute with any one concerning them. These propositions still exist -among his works, a sorrowful monument of the pedantry of the age, which -could turn aside so admirable an understanding, from loftier and more -useful studies, to the subtilties and frivolities of scholastic -arguments. But, in those days, they caused Pico to be considered -something wonderful, and almost divine. Yet they led him into annoyance, -as envy caused other learned men to denounce thirteen among the -propositions to be heretical, and he wrote a long apology to clear -himself. This rather increased his difficulties; twice he was cited -before the papal tribunal, but was each time pronounced innocent. This -persecution caused him to reform his life. Handsome, young, rich, and of -attractive manners, he had hitherto enjoyed the pleasures usual to his -period of life; but henceforth he gave himself up to piety, burning his -love verses, and devoting himself to theology and philosophy. He spent -the last years of his life at Florence, in the society of Lorenzo and -his friends. He was beside Lorenzo at his last moments; and, in a -cheerful conversation with him, that amiable man spent his last hours, -saying, that he should meet death with more satisfaction after this -interview. Pico has been praised by every writer for his beneficence and -generosity; he died in the year 1494, in his thirty-second year only. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>ANGELO POLIZIANO</h4> - -<p> -Politian formed a third, and was the dearest of Lorenzo's friends. He -was born at Monte Pulciano, a small town not far from Florence; he was -named Angelo, and his father was called Benedetto di Cini. The son -adopted the place of his birth for a surname, changing Pulciano into the -more euphonic appellation of Poliziano. He was born on the 24th of July, -1454: his father was poor, which occasioned him in his youth to call -himself Angelo Basso. Brought to Florence during his childhood, he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">{Pg 162}</a></span> -studied under the most celebrated scholars of the day, Cristofero -Landino, and Giovanni Agyropylo. It is uncertain whether he derived this -advantage from his father's care, or from the kindness of Lorenzo de' -Medici, as it is not known at what age he first became known to that -munificent patron. His own words are, "From boyhood almost I was brought -up in that asylum of virtue, the palace of the great Lorenzo de' Medici, -prince of his flourishing republic of Florence."<a name="NoteRef_80_1" id="NoteRef_80_1"></a><a href="#Note_80_1" class="fnanchor">[80]</a> These words -coincide with the general idea, that at a very early age he attracted -the notice of Lorenzo by his poem entitled, "Giostra di Giuliano de' -Medici," written to celebrate the first tournament of Giuliano, as Luca -Pulci had composed another in honour of that of Lorenzo. This poem -consists of 1400 lines, and yet is left unfinished; breaking off at the -moment that the tournament is about to begin. It commences by an address -to Lorenzo, and then goes on to describe the youthful occupations of -Giuliano, his carelessness of female beauty, and the subduing of his -heart by the lovely Simonetta. A description of Venus and the island of -Cyprus is introduced: it concludes abruptly, as is often the case with -youthful attempts. Yet the beauty and variety of the ideas, and -smoothness and elegance of the versification, render it doubtful to -critics whether it was written at so early an age as fourteen. At least -it must cause regret that he afterwards applied himself to compositions -in Latin: for though his poetry in that language has a life and vigour -which distinguishes it from any other of his age, yet it must always -fall short of the genuine flow of thought, in which a poet so easily -indulges when he adopts his native tongue. -</p> - -<p> -From the period that he took up his abode in Lorenzo's palace, he -received the instructions of the most celebrated men of the age, and his -progress showed his aptitude to learn. He enjoyed here also the society -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">{Pg 163}</a></span> -of Lorenzo's accomplished mother, Lucretia Tornabuoni, a lover of -poetry, and herself a poetess. Lorenzo afterwards appointed him tutor to -his children; but he did not agree so well with Mona Clarice. When -Lorenzo was engaged in the hazardous war that disturbed the beginning -of his political life, he sent his wife and children to Pistoia, with -Politian as tutor, who wrote frequent letters to Lorenzo, with accounts -of the well-being and occupations of his family. "Piero," he writes, -"never leaves my side, nor I his. I should like to be useful to you in -greater things; but since this is entrusted to me, I willingly undertake -it."—"All your family are well. Piero studies moderately; and we -wander through the town to amuse ourselves. We visit the gardens, of which -this city is full, and sometimes the library of Maestro Zambino, where I -found several good Greek and Latin books. Giovanni<a name="NoteRef_81_1" id="NoteRef_81_1"></a><a href="#Note_81_1" class="fnanchor">[81]</a> rides on his pony -have all day long, followed by numbers of people. Mona Clarice is well in -health; but takes pleasure in nothing but the good news she receives -from you, and seldom quits the house." In another letter he asks, that -more power may be given to him over the studies of the boys:—"As for -Giovanni, his mother employs him in reading the Psalter, which I by no -means commend. Whilst she declined interfering with him, it is wonderful -how he got on." Monna Clarice was not better pleased with the tutor than -he with her. She writes to her husband—"I wish you would not make me -the fable of Francho, as I was of Luigi Pulci; and that Messer Angelo -should not say that he remains in my house in spite of me. I told you, -that if you wished it, I was satisfied that he should stay, though I -have suffered a thousand impertinences from him. If it is your will, I -am patient; but I cannot believe that it should be so." Thus situated, -Politian lamented the absence of Madonna Lucretia from Pistoia, and -complained to her of the solitude he endured there. "I call it -solitude," he says, in a letter written at this time to Lucretia, "for -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">{Pg 164}</a></span> -Monsignore shuts himself up in his room, with thought for his only -companion; and I always find him so sorrowful and anxious, that it -increases my melancholy to be with him: and when I remain alone, weary -of study, I am agitated by the thoughts of pestilence and war, regret -for the past and fear for the future; nor have I any one with whom to -share my reveries. I do not find my dear Mona Lucretia in her room, to -whom I could pour forth my complaints, and I die of ennui."<a name="NoteRef_82_1" id="NoteRef_82_1"></a><a href="#Note_82_1" class="fnanchor">[82]</a> -</p> - -<p> -At the age of twenty-nine, he was appointed to the professorship of -Greek and Latin eloquence in the university of Florence. Happy in the -friendship of his patron, his life was disturbed only by literary -squabbles, in which he usually conducted himself with forbearance and -dignity. He was held in high repute throughout Italy, and received -preferment in the church, and on one occasion was sent ambassador to the -papal court. -</p> - -<p> -His life for many years was one of singular good fortune and happiness: -adversity ensued on the death of Lorenzo. -<span class="sidenote2">1492.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -38.</span> -There is a long letter of his to Jacopo Antiquario<a name="NoteRef_83_1" id="NoteRef_83_1"></a><a href="#Note_83_1" class="fnanchor">[83]</a>, which describes -the last days of his beloved patron in affecting and lively terms. He -speaks of the counsels he gave his son, and his interview with his -confessor, during which he prepared himself for death with astonishing -calmness and fortitude. On one occasion he made some enquiry of the -servants, which Politian answered,—"Recognising my voice," he writes, -"and looking kindly on me, as he ever did, 'O Angelo,' said he, 'are you -there? and stretching out his languid arms, clasped tightly both my -hands. I could not repress my sobs and tears, yet, trying to conceal -them, I turned my face away; while he, without being at all agitated, -still held my hands: but when he found that I could not speak for -weeping, by degrees and naturally he set me free, and I hurried into the -near cabinet, and gave vent to my grief and tears." -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">{Pg 165}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -The disasters that befel the Medici family after the death of Lorenzo, -are supposed to have broken Politian's heart. The presumption and -incapacity of Piero caused him and all who bore his name to be exiled. -The French troops at that time invaded Italy under Charles VIII.: they -entered Florence, and, in conjunction with the ungrateful citizens, -plundered and destroyed the palace of the Medici; and the famous -Laurentian library was dispersed and carried off in the tumult. Politian -had composed a pathetic Latin monody on Lorenzo.<a name="NoteRef_84_1" id="NoteRef_84_1"></a><a href="#Note_84_1" class="fnanchor">[84]</a> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">{Pg 166}</a></span> -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Who from perennial streams shall bring,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of gushing floods a ceaseless spring?</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That through the day in hopeless woe,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That through the night my tears may flow.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">As the reft turtle mourns his mate,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">As sings the swan his coming fate,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">As the sad nightingale complains,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I pour my anguish and my strains.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Oh! wretched, wretched past relief;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">O grief! beyond all other grief!"</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -While singing these verses, after Lorenzo's death, afflicted at the sad -loss they commemorated, and by the adverse events which followed, a -spasm of grief seized him, his heart suddenly broke from excess of -feeling, and he died on the spot. He died on the 24th of September, -1494, having just completed his 40th year, and having survived his -illustrious friend little more than two years. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>BERNARDO PULCI</h4> - -<p> -More celebrated as an Italian poet than Politian, is Luigi Pulci, author -of "Morgante Maggiore." Very little is known of his private history. -There were three brothers of this family, which is one of the most -ancient in Florence, since it carried back its origin to one of the -French families who settled in that city in the time of Charlemagne: -their fortunes, however, were decayed. Bernardo, the elder, wrote an -elegy on Cosimo de' Medici; and another very sweet and graceful sonnet -on the death of Simonetta, whom Giuliano de' Medici loved. He translated -the Eclogues of Virgil into Italian, and wrote other pastoral poetry. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>LUCA PULCI</h4> - -<p> -Luca Pulci wrote the "Giostra di Lorenzo," before mentioned; various -poetic epistles, and two longer poems; one called the "Driadeo d' -Amore," a pastoral founded on mythological fables; and the other, the -"Ciriffo Calvaneo," a romantic narrative poem, deficient in that -interest and poetic excellence necessary to attract readers in the -present day. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>LUIGI PULCI</h4> - -<p> -Luigi Pulci is the most celebrated of the brothers. It was at the -instigation of Lucrezia Tornabuoni, mother of Lorenzo de' Medici, who -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">{Pg 167}</a></span> -has been before mentioned for her talents and love of literature, that -he wrote the "Morgante Maggiore;" and Bernardo Tasso, father of the -great poet, relates that he read the cantos, as they were written, at -the table of Lorenzo.<a name="NoteRef_85_1" id="NoteRef_85_1"></a><a href="#Note_85_1" class="fnanchor">[85]</a> Nothing is known of the latter part of Luigi -Pulci's life. Alessandro Zilioli, in his inedited "Memoirs of Italian -Poets," cited by Apostolo Zeno, narrates that Pulci died in a state of -penury at Padua, and that, from the impiety of his writings, he was -denied the rites of Christian burial; but he is the only writer who -mentions this, and no great faith can be reposed in him. -</p> - -<p> -The poem of "Morgante Maggiore" has excited much discussion, as to -whether it is intended to be considered a burlesque or serious poem. -There is little of what is absolutely tragic; but much that is romantic -and interesting, mingled, as in the tragedies of Shakspeare, with -comedy. It is true that Pulci, while he relates wonders, does so in a -language so colloquial, as to detract from the dignity of his heroes and -the majesty of the adventures recounted; but in this he rather imitates -than travesties real life, and especially the life of the chivalrous -ages, during which there was so strange a mixture of the grand and the -ridiculous. While reading the poem, it seems difficult to understand the -foundation of the dispute, of whether it be impious, and whether it be -burlesque: it is at once evident that the serious parts are intended to -be elevated and tragic. Dr. Panizzi's essay is clear and decisive on -this point; and with him we may quote Ugo Foscolo, who says, that "the -comic humour of the Italian narrative poems arises from the contrast -between the constant endeavours of the writers to adhere to the forms -and subjects of the popular story-tellers, and the efforts made, at the -same time, by the genius of those writers, to render these materials -interesting and sublime." Yet, doubtless. Pulci, as well as other -writers of romantic narrative poems, introduces comedy, or, rather, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">{Pg 168}</a></span> -farce, designedly. Tasso alone, in his "Gerusalemme," adhered to classic -forms, and preserved the elevation of epic majesty, unmingled with wit -and ridicule. -</p> - -<p> -The origin of the romantic tales of Charlemagne and his Paladins, made -so popular by Ariosto, and celebrated by Pulci, Boiardo, and other -poets, has been much treated of. Earlier than these were "The Adventures -of the Knights of the Round Table of King Arthur." French authors have -asserted that these also are founded on stories of Charlemagne; but Dr. -Panizzi asserts them to be of Welsh origin: he quotes Marie de France, -who declares that she translated several <i>fabliaux</i> from British -originals; and Chaucer, who, in the "Franklin's Tale," says— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"These olde gentil Bretons in hir dayes</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of diverse adventures maden layes,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Rimeyed in hir firste Breton tongue;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Which layes with hir instruments they songe,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Or elles redden him for hir pleasure."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -The long narrative romances of Amadis of Gaul and Palmerin of England -(which the curate saved out of the general burning of Don Quixote's -library) are supposed to be founded on various old lays and tales put -together in regular narration. In the same way, the adventures of the -French knights may be supposed to be founded on songs and romances -composed to celebrate favourite heroes. The authority perpetually quoted -by them all is archbishop Turpin. This romance is supposed to have been -written during the time of the first crusade: pope Calistus II. quotes -it in a bull dated 1122, and pronounces it to be genuine. From this, as -from one source, the Italians drew, or pretended to draw, the various -adventures of their heroes. In all their poems these are the same, and -their peculiar characters are preserved; yet many of these personages -are not even mentioned by Turpin: the events of his book are the wars of -Charlemagne in Spain against the Saracens, and the defeat of the -Paladins at Roncesvalles, through the treachery of Gano. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">{Pg 169}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -Milone, a distant relative of Charlemagne, and Bertha, the emperor's -sister, were the parents of Orlando. His childhood was spent in -obscurity and hardships, owing to the banishment of Milone and his wife -when their marriage was discovered. He was clothed by the charity of -four young friends, who brought cloth to cover him: two bought white, -and two red; whence Orlando adopted his coat of arms, del quartiere. -Charlemagne saw him on his road to Rome, Orlando introducing himself to -his imperial uncle's notice by stealing a plate of meat for his mother. -On this he was recognised; castles and lands were bestowed on him, he -became the prop of the throne, and married Alda, or Aldabella, who was -also connected with the royal family. -</p> - -<p> -The personage who ranks next to him in celebrity is his cousin Rinaldo -of Montalbano. Montalbano, or Montauban, is a city on the banks of the -Tarn, near its junction with the Garonne. It is said to have been built -in 1144, after the date of archbishop Turpin's book, who makes no -mention of it or its lord. It is a stronghold; and, even now, an old -fortress, in the most ancient part of it, is called le Chateau de -Renaud. Aymon, duke of Dordona, had four sons; the eldest was Rinaldo, -who, having, in a transport of rage, killed Charlemagne's nephew -Berthelot with a blow of a chess-board, was, with all his family, except -his father, banished and outlawed. They betook themselves to the forests -and the lives of banditti; and, proceeding to Gasgony, Yon, king of -Bordeaux, gave his sister Clarice in marriage to Rinaldo, and permitted -him to build the castle of Montauban. After several disasters, he went -to the Holy Land, and, on his return, made peace with the emperor. The -machinery of these poems is chiefly conducted, in the first place, by -the treachery of Gano of Mayence, who is perpetually trusted by -Charlemagne, and perpetually betrays him, turning his malice principally -against the celebrated warriors of his court, while they are protected -by Rinaldo's cousin Malagigi, or Maugis, son of Beuves, or Buovo, of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">{Pg 170}</a></span> -Aygremont. Malagigi was brought up by the fairy Orianda, and became a -great enchanter. To vary the serious characters of the drama, Astolfo, -the English cousin of Orlando, being equally descended with him from -Charles Martel, is introduced. Astolfo is a boaster: he is perpetually -undertaking great feats, which he is unable to perform; but he is -generous, and brave to foolhardiness, courteous, gay, and singularly -handsome. -</p> - -<p> -The family of the heroes of romance has been the more dilated upon, as -it serves as an introduction to all the poems. But to return to Pulci, -who is immediately before us. -</p> - -<p> -His poem wants the elevation, the elegance, and idealism of Boiardo and -Ariosto; but it is not on that account merely burlesque: it has been -supposed to be impious, on account of each chapter being addressed to -the Divinity, or, more frequently, to the Virgin. But in those days men -were on a much more familiar footing than now with the objects of their -worship; and, even at present, in purely catholic countries,—in -Italy, for example,—the most sacred names are alluded to in a way -which sounds like blasphemy to our ears, but which makes an integral part -of their religion. There is but one passage in the "Morgante," hereafter to -be noticed, which really savours of unbelief. Thus, as seriously, or, at -least, with as little feeling of blasphemy, as an alderman says grace -before a turtle feast. Pulci begins his poem<a name="NoteRef_86_1" id="NoteRef_86_1"></a><a href="#Note_86_1" class="fnanchor">[86]</a>:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"In the beginning was the Word next God;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">God was the Word, the Word no less was he:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">This was in the beginning, to my mode</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of thinking, and without him nought could be.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Therefore, just Lord! from out thy high abode,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Benign and pious, bid an angel flee,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">One only, to be my companion, who</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">{Pg 171}</a></span> -<span class="i0">Shall help my famous, worthy, old song through.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"And thou, O Virgin! daughter, mother, bride</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of the same Lord, who gave to you each key</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Of heaven and hell, and every thing beside,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The day thy Gabriel said, 'All hail!' to thee;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Since to thy servants pity's ne'er denied,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With flowing rhymes, a pleasant style and free;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Be to my verses then benignly kind,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">And to the end illuminate my mind."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">LORD BYRON's <i>Translation of Canto I. of Pulci.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -The scope of the poem is then, in true epic fashion, summed up -in a few lines<a name="NoteRef_87_1" id="NoteRef_87_1"></a><a href="#Note_87_1" class="fnanchor">[87]</a>:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Twelve paladins had Charles in court, of whom</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The wisest and most famous was Orlando;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Him traitor Gan conducted to the tomb</span><br /> -<span class="i2">In Roncesvalles, as the villain plann'd too,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">While the horn rang so loud, and knell'd the doom</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of their sad rout, though he did all knight can do;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">And Dante in his comedy has given</span><br /> -<span class="i0">To him a happy seat with Charles in heaven."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i20">—<i>Id. ibid.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -The poet then introduces the immediate object of the poem. On Christmas -day Charlemagne held his court, and the emperor was over-glad to see all -his noble Paladins around him. His favour shown towards Orlando excited -the spleen of Gano, who openly attacked him as too presumptuous and -powerful. Orlando overhearing his words, and perceiving Charlemagne's -ready credulity, drew his sword in a rage, and would have killed the -slanderer, had not Ulivieri interposed. On this Orlando quits Paris, -full of grief and rage, and goes forth to wander over the world in -search of adventures. His first enterprise is undertaken in behalf of a -convent, besieged by three giants, who amused themselves by throwing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">{Pg 172}</a></span> -fragments of rock and trees torn up by the roots, into the courts and -garden of the monastery, which kept the poor monks in perpetual alarm. -Notwithstanding their dissuasions, Orlando conceives this to be an -adventure worthy of him: he goes out against the pagan and monstrous -assailants. He kills two in single combat, and then goes to seek the -fiercest and mightiest of the three, Morgante. This ferocious giant has -retired, meanwhile, to a cavern of his own fashioning, and was dreaming -uneasily of a serpent who came to slay him, which was only defeated by -his having recourse to the name of the Christian Saviour. This disposed -him to submission and conversion, and Orlando, delighted with these good -dispositions, embraces and baptizes him. The monks are very grateful for -their deliverance, and desirous to keep their preserver; but Orlando, -tired of idleness, takes a kind and affectionate leave of the abbot, -whom he discovers to be a cousin of his own, and departs with his -convert in search of adventures. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile, Rinaldo, enraged at his cousin's departure, and the -partiality displayed by the emperor for the traitor Gano, leaves the -court with Ulivieri and Dudone in search of the wanderer. They meet with -a variety of adventures, and join him at last in the court of king -Caradoro, whom they aid in his war with king Manfredonio, who demanded, -at the sword's point, the beautiful Meridiana, daughter of Caradoro, as -his wife. Manfredonio is defeated. The verses that describe his final -departure, at the persuasion of Meridiana, and the force of love which -caused him to submit to her decree of banishment, forms one of the -prettiest episodes of the Morgante. Meridiana falls in love with -Ulivieri, who had delivered her: he converts her to Christianity; but -this does not prevent him from following the example of the pious -Æneas, and deserting her a short time after. -</p> - -<p> -Gano was not content with the dispersion and exile of the Paladins: he -sent messengers to Caradoro and Manfredonio, telling who the wanderers -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">{Pg 173}</a></span> -were, and inciting these monarchs to destroy them. Besides this, he -invited Erminione, a Saracen king of Denmark, to attack France while -unprotected by its bravest warriors. The king succeeds so well, that, -besieging Paris, he took prisoner all the remaining Paladins; and poor -Charlemagne, who cuts a sorry figure throughout the Morgante, sighs for -the return of Orlando and Rinaldo. Gano triumphed, and offered one of -the enemy's generals to deliver up Montalbano to him by treachery; -Lionfante nobly refuses, and feels inclined to put the traitor to death; -he is saved by the intercession of the family of Chiaramonte, who feared -that if things were pushed to an extremity with him, his followers would -revolt, and endanger the empire. -</p> - -<p> -Orlando and his friends hearing in the course of their wanderings of the -danger of Charlemagne, returned with a large army to deliver him. Gano -wants to persuade the emperor that these allies are enemies in disguise; -but the strength and valour of the most renowned Paladins are not to be -mistaken. The magic arts of Malagigi the enchanter persuade Lionfante of -the truth of the Christian religion: he is converted, and the war comes -to an end, to the great discontent of the indefatigable Gano, who -instantly begins to stir up another, informing Caradoro of the seduction -of Meridiana, who sends a giant ambassador to complain to Charlemagne. -The ambassador behaves with extreme impertinence, and is killed by -Morgante. -</p> - -<p> -Rinaldo, who is rather quarrelsome, has a dispute with Ulivieri, on -which, at the instigation of Gano, he is banished; and he and Astolfo -become bandits. Astolfo is taken by treachery, and sentenced to be -hanged. Poor fellow! Astolfo, who is always good-humoured and -courageous, is a kind of scape-goat, for ever in humiliating and -dangerous situations. He is now worse off than ever; but while ascending -the gallows, and while the halter is fitting, a tumult is made to save -him, and Charlemagne, overpowered, to preserve his life and kingdom, -pardons him and Rinaldo, and banishes Gano. But this was only done to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">{Pg 174}</a></span> -gain time. The emperor hates the race of Chiaramonte in his heart; and -Ricciardetto, the youngest brother of the house, being taken prisoner -while Rinaldo is absent, Charlemagne resolves to hang him. The Paladins -were highly indignant, and Orlando left the court; but Ricciardetto was -saved by his brother Rinaldo, who drove the emperor from his throne, and -forcing him to take refuge in one of Gano's castles, took possession of -the sovereignty himself; till, hearing that Orlando was imprisoned and -sentenced to die by a pagan king of Persia, he restores the emperor to -his throne, causes Gano to be banished, and sets out to deliver his -cousin, accompanied by Ulivieri and Ricciardetto. He succeeds in his -attempt by means of Antea, the daughter of the king of Babylon, who -falls in love with him. It is impossible to follow all the intricacies -of the adventures and the wars that ensue, the interest of which is -derived from the detail and expression, both lost in a brief abstract. -Antea, while she continues to be devotedly attached to Rinaldo, is, on -some treacherous suggestion of Gano, induced to enter France, and takes -possession of the castle of Montalbano. Rinaldo is sent by her father -against the old man of the mountain, whom he takes prisoner and converts -to Christianity: and Orlando, who is engaged in fighting and conquering -whole armies, hurries to deliver Ricciardetto and Ulivieri, who are -going to be hanged by Antea's father. -</p> - -<p> -Morgante had been left behind in France, but sets out to rejoin Orlando, -and in his way to Babylon falls in with Margutte. Margutte is a singular -invention, a caprice of the poet. Pulci resolved to paint a fellow -without conscience, religion, humanity, or care for aught but the -grossest indulgences of the senses. Lord Byron has imitated a part of -his confession of faith in one of his poems:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"I know not," quoth the fellow, "who or what</span><br /> -<span class="i2">He is, nor whence he came,—and little care;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">But this I know, that this roast capon's fat,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And that good wine ne'er wash'd down better fare."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12"><i>Don Juan</i>, canto III. v. 4.</span> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">{Pg 175}</a></span></p> - -<p> -"My name is Margutte," says this strange being; "I was desirous of -becoming a giant, but half way I repented, so that I am only ten feet -high. I neither believe in black nor blue, but in capon, whether it be -boiled or roast, and I have faith sometimes in butter and other good -things; but above all, I put my trust in good wine. I believe in tarts and -tartlets—the one is the mother, the other is the son;"—and he -continues in a style of blasphemy more shocking to our protestant ears -than those of the most pious catholics, who, as has been mentioned, are -apt to allude in very familiar terms to the mysterious and almighty -Beings, whom they do not the less on this account adore, and propitiate -with prayer. -</p> - -<p> -Margutte's adventures are conducted with a kind of straightforward -wickedness which amuses from its very excess: at an inn, after eating up -all that is to be got,—his appetite is enormous,—and robbing -the host, he sets fire to the house, and departs with Morgante, rejoicing -greatly in his success, and carrying off every thing he could lay his hands -upon. They go travelling on, and meet with various adventures. Morgante -is infinitely amused by his companion, but preserves a gentleness, a -generosity, and kindness of heart, which contrasts agreeably with the -other's unmeasured sensuality. At last, one morning, Morgante, to play -him a trick, draws off Margutte's boots while he is asleep, and hides -them; Margutte looks for them, and at length perceives an ape, who is -putting them on and drawing them off; the sight of the animal thus -engaged so tickles Margutte's fancy, that he laughs till he bursts. -Morgante weeps over him, and buries him in a grotto. The whole episode -of Margutte is distinct from the rest of the work. Pulci allows that it -is not to be found in any of the old songs. Dr. Panizzi supposes, that -under the name of Margutte is concealed some individual well known to -Pulci and his friends, but at variance with them; and therefore made an -object of sarcasm and ridicule. -</p> - -<p> -We must hurry on to the conclusion of this poem, for the incidents are -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">{Pg 176}</a></span> -so multiplied and various, that it would occupy many pages to give an -account of them. Poor Morgante dies—the gentle Christian giant, the -defender of ladies, and fast friend of Orlando. He is on board a vessel -which is wrecked, and he is saved on the back of a whale, but on landing -is bitten by a crab on the heel: he ridicules the wound; but it proves -fatal, and poor Morgante dies. Gano, a traitor to the end, is sent to -Saragossa to treat with Marsiglio, who having been lately defeated, is -to pay tribute to Charlemagne. He there schemes the destruction of -Orlando, who, is to come slenderly accompanied to Roncesvalles to -receive the tribute. The traitor arranges with the king that he shall -advance accompanied by 600,000 men; who, divided into three armies, -shall successively attack the Paladin and his few troops. One of the -best passages of Pulci is the scene in which the treacherous attack of -Roncesvalles is determined on between Marsiglio and Gano. After a solemn -dinner they walked into the park, and sat down by a fountain in a -solitary place. With the hesitation and confusion of traitors they are -discussing the mode of destroying the famous Paladin, when heaven gives -signs of anger by various and terrifying prodigies. Marsiglio's seat is -upset; a laurel near is struck by a thunderbolt; the sun is obscured; a -violent storm and earthquake fill them with alarm; then a fire breaks -out above their heads, and the waters of the fountain overflowing are -turned to burning blood; while the animals of the park attack each -other. Gano is struck by the fall of a large fruit from a carob tree, -(the tree on which Judas Iscariot is said to have hanged himself); his -hair stands on end, and terror possesses his heart; but revenge is too -burning within him to be quenched by fear, and the plot is proceeded in -notwithstanding these frightful events. Orlando comes to Roncesvalles -with a small force, rather a retinue than an army, to rereceive the -gifts and submission of Marsiglio. The king is not neglectful of his -part; his innumerable armies, one after the other, attack Orlando. The -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">{Pg 177}</a></span> -Paladin and his friends perform prodigies of valour; but, like waves of -the sea, their enemies come on irresistible from their number. Orlando -sees all die around him, and his soul is pierced with grief; yet not -till he feels himself dying will he sound the mighty horn which is to -give Charlemagne notice of his peril. The emperor hears the faint echo -borne on the winds three distinct times, and he and all around him feel -certain that treason is at work and Orlando in danger. They turn pale -with terror, and hasten to the sad spot, where they find the noble -warrior dead. Rinaldo is near him. Rinaldo, at the moment that the -slaughter of Roncesvalles was preparing, was far away in Asia. Malagigi -his cousin puts a devil named Astoroth into a horse, which is to bring -him to his cousin's aid in a few hours. This journey of Rinaldo and the -evil spirit forms a curious episode. They converse together on their way -concerning things divine and infernal. On coming to this passage, the -reader is struck by the lofty tone the poet assumes: there is a mingled -disdain, dignity, and regret in the fallen angel, that moves at once -compassion and respect: he is thus described<a name="NoteRef_88_1" id="NoteRef_88_1"></a><a href="#Note_88_1" class="fnanchor">[88]</a>:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"This was a demon fell, named Astorot;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">No airy sprite, nor wanton fairy he;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">His home was down in the infernal grot.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And he was wise and fierce prodigiously."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -It has been supposed that Pulci did not write this portion of the poem. -Panizzi does not hesitate to give credit to the assertion of Tasso<a name="NoteRef_89_1" id="NoteRef_89_1"></a><a href="#Note_89_1" class="fnanchor">[89]</a>, -who declares that it was written by Ficino. But Tasso affirms this -merely upon hearsay, which is slender authority. There is nothing to -which contemporaries are more prone than to discover that an author does -not write his own works. There is nothing in the style of these stanzas -unlike Pulci's best and more serious verses. Rinaldo's journey, thus -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">{Pg 178}</a></span> -accelerated, was however to no purpose in saving his cousin; he could -only assist in his revenge—and the poem concludes with the hanging of -Gano and Marsiglio, archbishop Turpin kindly undertaking to perform the -last office for the king with his own hand, and ties him up to the -famous carob tree. -</p> - -<p> -The great beauty of the Morgante, besides scenes and passages of pathos -and beauty, is derived from the simple, magnanimous, and tender -character of Orlando. Charlemagne is a doting old man, Gano a traitor, -Rinaldo a violent and headstrong warrior or robber, Astolfo -vainglorious, but all are selfish and erring, except the singleminded -and generous conte di Brava. He is the model of a true -knight,—compassionate, sincere, and valiant: his death is courageous -and pious: he thinks of the grief of the emperor, and the mourning of -his wife Aldabella, and after recommending them to God, he embraces his -famous sword Durlindana, and pressing it to his heart, and comforted by -an angel from God, he fixes his eyes on heaven and expires. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>CIECO DA FERRARA</h4> - -<p> -The "Morgante Maggiore" is the first of a series of romantic narrative -poems, which take Charlemagne and his Paladins for the heroes of their -tales. The "Mambriano" of Cieco da Ferrara is one of these. The real -name of the author was Francesco Bello. It has been said that he was -called Cecco or Cieco from his blindness—but Cecco and Cecchino is -the common Tuscan diminutive for Francesco. Little is known of this author, -except the disaster that has already been mentioned, and that he was -poor and lived at Ferrara, and recited the cantos of his poem, as they -were written, at the table of the cardinal Ippolito da Este. -[Sidenote: 1509.] -Tiraboschi quotes from the dedication of Conosciuti, who published the -"Mambriano" after the author's death; who therein begs the cardinal to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">{Pg 179}</a></span> -take the poem under his care, and with his accustomed benevolence not to -deny that favour to the memory of Francesco, which he so frequently and -liberally bestowed during his life. Tiraboschi adds, that such -expressions do not seem to him to accord with the idea that the poet -lived and died poor. The bounty of a patron is, however, various and -capricious, and, unless it takes the form of an annuity, seldom relieves -the wants of a dependant; and we may take Francesco's word that he was -poor when he says—"The howling of winds and roaring of waves which I -hear now abroad upon our sea, has so shattered the planks of my skiff, -that I lament that I undertook the voyage. On the other side, penury -burthens me with such need, that it seems to me, that I can never -acquire any praise if I do not overcome these winds and storms."<a name="NoteRef_90_1" id="NoteRef_90_1"></a><a href="#Note_90_1" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> His -poem is little read, and has never been translated. We have never met -with it; but from the specimens given by Panizzi, it is evident that he -possessed ease of versification, and a considerable spring of poetic -imagery and invention. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>BURCHIELLO</h4> - -<p> -Very little is also known of this poet, whose real name was Domenico. He -is supposed to have been born in Florence: he became free of the company -of barbers in that city in 1432, and exercised his trade in the Contrada -di Calemala. He died at Rome in 1448. His poems are a strange and -capricious mixture of sayings, proverbs, and jokes, most of which are -unintelligible to the Italians of the present day. From them and his -name is derived the word burlesque, to signify a mock tragic style of -expression. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">{Pg 180}</a></span> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_78_1" id="Note_78_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_78_1"><span class="label">[78]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Cerchi chi vuol, le pompe, e gli alti honori.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Le piazze, e tempii, e gli edeficii magni,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Le delicie, il tesor, qual accompagni</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Mille duri pensier, mille dolori:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Un verde praticel pien di bei fiori,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Un rivolo, che l'herba intorno bagni,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Un angeletto che d' amor si lagni,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Acqueta molto meglio i nostri ardori:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">L' ombrare selve, i sassi, e gli alti monti</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Gli antri oscuri, e le fere fuggitive,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Qualche leggiadra ninfa paurosa;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Quivi veggo io con pensier vaghi e pronti</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Le belle luci, come fossin vivi.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Qui me le toglie or' una, or' altra cosa."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_79_1" id="Note_79_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_79_1"><span class="label">[79]</span></a>Tiraboschi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_80_1" id="Note_80_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_80_1"><span class="label">[80]</span></a>Tiraboschi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_81_1" id="Note_81_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_81_1"><span class="label">[81]</span></a>Afterwards Leo X.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_82_1" id="Note_82_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_82_1"><span class="label">[82]</span></a>Roscoe's Life of Lorenzo de' Medici, Appendix, -p. 60.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_83_1" id="Note_83_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_83_1"><span class="label">[83]</span></a>Tiraboschi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_84_1" id="Note_84_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_84_1"><span class="label">[84]</span></a>We subjoin the whole of the original. The above -verses are from the translation of Mr. Roscoe:—</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Quis dabit capiti meo</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Aquam? quis oculis meis</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Fontem lachrymarum dabit?</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ut nocte fleam,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ut luce fleam.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Sic turtur viduus solet,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Sic cygnus moriens solet;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Sic luscinia conqueri.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Heu, miser, miser!</span><br /> -<span class="i0">O, dolor, dolor!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Laurus impetu fulminis</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Illa, illa jacet subito;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Laurus omnium celebris,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Musarum choris,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Nympharum choris,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Sub cujus patula coma.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Et Phœbi lyra blandius</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Et vox dulcius insonat.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Nunc muta omnia!</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Nunc surda omnia!</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Quis dabit capiti meo</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Aquam? quis oculis meis</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Fontem lachrymarum dabit?</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ut nocte fleam,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ut luce fleam.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Sic turtur viduus solet,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Sic cygnus moriens solet,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Sic luscinia conqueri.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Heu, miser, miser!</span><br /> -<span class="i0">O, dolor, dolor!"</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_85_1" id="Note_85_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_85_1"><span class="label">[85]</span></a>Tiraboschi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_86_1" id="Note_86_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_86_1"><span class="label">[86]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"In principio era il Verbo appresso a Dio;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ed era Iddio il Verbo, e 'l Verbo lui:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Questo era nel principio, al parer mio;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E nulla si può far sanza costui:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Però, giusto Signor benigno e pio,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Mandami rolo un de gli angeli tui,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che m' accompagni, e rechimi a memoria</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Una famosa antica e degna storia.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"E tu Vergine, figlia, e madre, e sposa</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Di quel Signor, che ti dette le chiave</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Del cielo e dell' abisso e d' ogni cosa,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Quel dì che Gabriel tuo ti disse Ave!</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Perchè tu se' de' tuo' servi pietosa,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Con dolce rime, e stil grato e soave,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ajuta i versi miei benignamente,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E'nfino al fine allumina la mente."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12"><i>Morgante Mag.</i> canto I.</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_87_1" id="Note_87_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_87_1"><span class="label">[87]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Dodici paladini aveva in corte</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Carlo; e'l più savio e famoso era Orlando:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Gan traditor lo condusse a la morte</span><br /> -<span class="i2">In Roncisvalle un trattato ordinando;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Là dove il corno sonò tanto forte</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dopo la dolorosa rotta, quando</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ne la sua commedia Darte qui dice,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E mettelo con Carlo in ciel felice."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">—<i>Id. ibid.</i></span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_88_1" id="Note_88_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_88_1"><span class="label">[88]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Uno spirto chiamato è Astarotte,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Molto savio, terribil, molto fero,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Questo si sta giù nel' infernal grotte;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Non è spirito foletto, egli è più nero."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12"><i>Morg. Mag.</i> XXV. 119.</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_89_1" id="Note_89_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_89_1"><span class="label">[89]</span></a>Panizzi, Romantic Poetry of the Italians, p. 216.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_90_1" id="Note_90_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_90_1"><span class="label">[90]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Il fremito de' venti e'l suon dell' onde</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ch' io sento adesso in questo nostro mare,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Han cosi indebolite ambo le sponde</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Del legno mio, eh' io ploro il navigare;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Dall' altro canto povertà m'infonde</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Tanta necessità, che' l non mi pare</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Di poter mai acquistar laude alcuna,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">S'io non supero i venti e la fortuna."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12"><i>Marb.</i>, XXVIII. 1. <i>as quoted by Dr. Panizzi.</i></span> -</div></div></div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="BOJARDO">BOJARDO</a></h4> - -<p> -Matteo Maria Bojardo was of an ancient and noble family. His ancestors -had been counts of Rubiera, a castle between Reggio and Modena, till, in -1433, Feltrino Bojardo, then the head of the family, exchanged it for -Scandiano, a small castle about seven miles from Reggio, at the foot of -the Apennines, and celebrated for its excellent wine. The sovereign -house of Este added to the possessions of the family, and Bojardo was -count of Scandiano, and lord of Aceto, Casalgrande, Gesso, La Toricella, -&c. -</p> - -<p> -It appears that the poet was born in the castle of Scandiano, about the -year 1434, or a little before. His father was Giovanni, son of Feltrino; -and his mother, Lucia, was sprung of a branch of the famous Strozzi -family, original in Florence. Two of his near relatives, on the mother's -side, were elegant Latin poets. The general outline merely of Bojardo's -life is known there, and such delicate tints as we may catch from his -lyrical poetry. He received a liberal education, and was conversant in -the Greek and Latin languages. He was a vassal of the Este family, and -lived at the court of Borso the first duke of Ferrara, and afterwards of -his successor Ercole, to whom, indeed, he attached himself during the -life of Borso, when it was very uncertain whether he would succeed to -the duchy. The services he performed for this family are nearly the sole -events we collect of his life. -<span class="sidenote2">1469.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -35.</span> -When the emperor Frederic III. visited Italy, Bojardo was one of the -noblemen sent out to meet and welcome him on his way to Ferrara, -where he was entertained with extraordinary magnificence. -<span class="sidenote2">1471.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -37.</span> -Borso at this time was only marquis of Ferrara (though duke of Modena -and Reggio), but the pope, Paul II., soon after created him duke of that -city, and Bojardo accompanied him to Rome, when he went thither to -receive the investiture. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">{Pg 181}</a></span> -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1472.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -38.</span></p> - -<p> -Soon after, the poet married Taddea, daughter of the count of Novellara, -of the noble house of Gonzaga. -<span class="sidenote1">1473.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -39.</span> -He continued to enjoy the kindness and friendship of duke Ercole, who -selected him with other nobles to escort to Ferrara his bride Eleonora, -daughter of the king of Naples. -<span class="sidenote1">1478.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -44.</span> -He was named by him also governor of Reggio; which place he enjoyed, -except during the short interval when he was governor of Modena, till -the period of his death, which occurred at Reggio on the 20th of -December 1494, at the age of sixty. He was buried in the church of -Scandiano. -<span class="sidenote1">1481.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -47.</span> -Some traces remain to mark his character. -<span class="sidenote1">1486.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -52.</span> -He was so mild a governor as to excite indignation of a learned -civilian, Panciroli, who, speaking of him as a magistrate, reproves him -as a man great benignity,—"better fitted to write verses than punish -crimes." -<span class="sidenote1">1487.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -53.</span> -A contemporary Latin poet says, "that he was not severe to the -errors of love, but kindly gave to others what he desired himself. -He sat, indeed, on the seat of justice, and gave forth laws with a grave -brow; but his countenance was not always severe; day and night he sang -the triumphs of love, and while others studied the laws, he applied -himself to tender poetry." -</p> - -<p> -His lyrical poetry is extremely beautiful, tender, and spirited, being -characterised by that easy flow of thought and style peculiar to him. -Since the days of Petrarch, it is the fashion to affix one lady's name -as the object of a poet's verses. But, unfortunately, men, whether poets -or not, are apt to change. There are traces of Bojardo's being attached -to at least two ladies: and he married a third. The most passionate of -his verses were written from Rome in 1471, and were addressed to Antonia -Caprara, a beautiful girl of eighteen, who, whether married or not, -shared his affection. Perhaps this lady died; but we do not appear to -have any verses to his wife, whom he married in 1472. -</p> - -<p> -He was a good classical scholar, and translated the "Golden Ass" of -Apuleius, the history of Herodotus, Halicarnassus, and the "Golden Ass" -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">{Pg 182}</a></span> -of Lucian. He translated, altered, and enlarged the Pomarium of -Ricobaldi, to which, in its new form, he gave the name of the "Imperial -History." It is a sort of chronicle, full of romantic stories, founded -on history and tradition, to which, perhaps, credence was lent at that -time. He wrote also a drama called Timon, founded upon Lucian, which was -among the first specimens of Italian dramas, but it does not appear to -have great merit. He was the author also of Latin eclogues, the language -of which is elegant and spirited. -</p> - -<p> -His great work, however, is the "Orlando Innamorato," or "Loves of -Orlando," founded on the old romances. His disposition naturally -inclined him to revel in romance, so that it is said that he used, at -Scandiano, to visit the old villagers, and draw from them their -traditionary tales, rewarding them so well for the gratification he -received, that it became a sort of proverb or exclamation of good-will at -that place—"God send Bojardo to your house!" His "Imperial History," -probably gave direction to his invention, which was prolific. He took -Orlando as his hero; but deeming him uninteresting unless in love, he -called into life the beautiful Angelica, whose coquetry, loveliness, and -misfortunes, made sad havoc in Charlemagne's court. Mr. George Rose's -prose translation of the "Orlando Innamorato" gives a spirited abstract -of the story, which must here be more briefly detailed. -</p> - -<p> -Charlemagne, in the midst of prosperity and glory, held a court at -Paris, at which 22,030 guests were assembled. Before these the beautiful -Angelica presents herself, with her brother Argalia, and four giants as -attendants. Her brother defies the knights to combat. Argalia possessed -an enchanted lance, which throws whoever it touches; and Angelica a -ring, which, on certain occasions, renders the wearer invisible. Every -one fell in love with Angelica, and in particular Orlando and Rinaldo. -Angelica becomes frightened in the midst of the disturbances of the -combats, and disappearing by means of the ring, flies from the scene of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">{Pg 183}</a></span> -the tournament. She takes refuge in the wood of Ardennes: arriving -fatigued and heated, she drinks hastily of an enchanted fountain, which -causes her to fall in love with the first man she may chance to see; and -then reposing on the flower-enamelled turf, falls asleep. Orlando and -Rinaldo pursue her, as does also her brother Argalia; and Ferrau goes -after him, being at the moment of his flight engaged in combat with him. -Orlando and Rinaldo arrive at Ardennes; but the latter, on entering the -forest, and refreshing himself at a fountain, drinks of water enchanted -by Merlin, which causes him to hate the first woman he shall behold: he -then also lies down, and goes to sleep. Angelica wakes; she rises, -wanders from her place of rest, and comes to the spot where Rinaldo is -reposing. Her love-blinded eyes behold him, and, transported by sudden -and subduing passion, she watches his waking with fondness. He opens his -eyes, and holds in abhorrence the beauty who is gazing upon him, and -flies from her in disdain. Argalia meanwhile arrives in the wood, -pursued by Ferrau; he has lost his enchanted lance; the enemies meet, -and continue the combat. Argalia is slain: while breathing his last, he -implores his enemy to cast him and his armour into the river, that no -trace may remain, of his disgrace. Ferrau agrees, but solicits the loan -of his helmet, he himself being without one, till he can get another: -Argalia consents, and dies; while Ferrau, who is a Saracen, hearing of -the misfortunes of his sovereign Marsiglio, who is attacked by Gradasso, -king of Sericana, gives up the pursuit of Angelica, and sets out for -Spain. Angelica returns to India, and Orlando departs in quest of her. -</p> - -<p> -Charlemagne goes to the assistance of Marsiglio against Gradasso, who -himself is a wonder of martial prowess, and is attended by an -innumerable army, and several vast and fierce giants. Rinaldo has -returned to court, and accompanies his imperial master: during the -battle that ensues, he encounters Gradasso; but their single combat is -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">{Pg 184}</a></span> -interrupted by the hurry of the fight, and they agree to meet in duel -the next day on foot, in a solitary place by the sea-side. Gradasso's -great object is to win Orlando's sword Durindana, and Rinaldo's horse -Bajardo: the latter is to be his prize, if he overcomes Rinaldo on the -following day. -</p> - -<p> -Angelica meanwhile, burning with love for Rinaldo, revolves many schemes -for bringing him to her side. She has in her power his cousin Malagigi -(Maugis), who is a great enchanter. She set him at liberty, on condition -that he shall bring Rinaldo to her. Malagigi first tries to persuade his -cousin; but the chilly waters have wrought too powerfully, and the very -name of Angelica is odious to him. Malagigi has recourse to stratagem. -When Rinaldo keeps his appointment the next morning with Gradasso, he -finds the sea-shore solitary: a little boat, tenantless, is anchored -near the beach. Malagigi sends a fiend, in the shape of Gradasso, who, -after a mock combat, take refuge in the pinnace, followed by Rinaldo. -The boat drifts out to sea, the fiend vanishes, and Rinaldo is hurried -away across the ocean, till he arrives near a palace and garden, where -the vessel lightly drifts on shore. -</p> - -<p> -Orlando wanders about to find Angelica, and hears that she is at -Albracca, a castle of Catay. But he is unable to reach her, detained by -a variety of adventures and enchantments, through which he is at last -deprived of all memory or knowledge, and brought to a magnificent -palace, where he is left. Charlemagne meanwhile is freed from Gradasso -by means of Argalia's enchanted lance, which, falling into Astolfo's -possession, he works miracles, unhorses the mighty king, and a peace -being agreed upon, he sets out in search of Orlando and Rinaldo. Poor -Rinaldo is tempted meanwhile to soften towards Angelica, but in vain. -The luxuries of an enchanted palace are wasted on him, and he is exposed -to the most frightful dangers, from which Angelica delivers him; but -still he scorns and leaves her, while she returns disconsolate to -Albracca. -</p> - -<p> -Her hand is sought by various princes and nobles; and in particular by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">{Pg 185}</a></span> -Agricane, king of Tartary: she refuses them all; and Agricane, resolved -to win her, besieges her in Albracca. She is defended by various of the -Paladins, and goes herself with her ring in quest of Orlando, whom she -restores to his senses. He gladly hastens to her assistance; he kills -Agricane in a single contest, and in reward, as she wishes to get rid of -him, Angelica sends him on a distant and perilous expedition. -</p> - -<p> -The poem then enters on a new series of adventures, arising from the -revenge which Agramante wishes to take on Orlando for having slain his -father, king Trojano, sixteen years before. We are now introduced to -several new heroes of romance, destined to play a distinguished part in -the poem of Ariosto, as well as in the present one. There is Ruggeri, -whose name is adopted from the Norman knight Ruggeri, who had been king -of Sicily; and there is Rodomonte, the bravest, fiercest, and wildest of -all warriors. Ruggeri's presence is absolutely needed for the success of -Agramante's expedition; but he is imprisoned in a castle, whence he can -only be delivered by Angelica's magic ring. A thievish dwarf, named -Brunello, contrives to steal it from her, and Ruggeri is liberated. The -expedition embarks for France, where Rodomonte, impatient of delays, had -already arrived, and devastates Provence; while Marsiglio is induced, by -the old traitor Gano, to invade France from the Pyrenees. -</p> - -<p> -Orlando, returning from his adventure, finds Angelica besieged by -Marfisa, and in great peril. He mentions, that Rinaldo is in France: the -name has not lost its influence. She resolves to abandon Albracca; and, -having lost her ring, is glad to be protected by Orlando, who conducts -her in safety to France; and who, during the long journey, never -mentions his passion, nor annoys her with any manifestation of it; -though she, by her former coquetry, might well expect importunity: but -his generous and fond heart renders him silent, that he may not disturb -her lovely, serene countenance; -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Per non turbare quel bel viso sereno."</span> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">{Pg 186}</a></span></p> - -<p> -Poor Angelica feels not less for Rinaldo; but, arriving at Ardennes, she -is delivered from her misery, by drinking of the fountain, that turns -all her love to hate; while Rinaldo, also arriving, drinks of the -love-in-spiring waters, and with great joy seeing the lady, wonders at -his past dislike, and congratulates himself now on her passion. He -addresses her with tenderness; but is repulsed with scorn, while her -champion Orlando is at hand to defend her. He challenges his cousin, and -they fight; but Charlemagne, hearing of their arrival in his kingdom, -seizes on the lady, and forces the knights to be reconciled, privately -promising to both Angelica as a prize, if they will exert themselves -during the impending battle with Agramante. The poem now relates the -invasion of Agramante, of Mandricardo, son of the slain Agricane, of -Gradasso, and Marsiglio. A great battle takes place, in which the -Saracens are triumphant, Orlando being absent. Rinaldo goes in pursuit -of his horse Bajardo; while his sister Bradamante, a brave heroine, -falls in love with Ruggeri, and withdraws from the field. Charlemagne -retires to Paris, and is besieged by the whole body of Saracens. The -poem ends with the commencement of a sort of episode, in which -Fiordespina, mistaking the sex of Bradamante, falls in love with her. In -the middle of this, the poet is interrupted. The sound of arms, which -betokens the invasion of the French, and the terror and misery of Italy, -call him from his task of fiction, to be the witness of real woes. He -promises, if the stars will permit, to continue his narration another -time. This time never came, for the French invaded Italy in 1494; and it -was in about the same year that Bojardo died. -</p> - -<p> -This is but a brief abstract of a poem interspersed with numerous -episodes, beautiful descriptions, and interesting reverses. The poet -never flags. An untired spirit animates every stanza, every verse: the -life, the energy, the variety, the fertility of invention, are truly -surprising, and far transcend Ariosto. But minuter criticism is -deferred, till an account is given of Berni and his rifacimento. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">{Pg 187}</a></span> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="BERNI">BERNI</a></h4> - -<p> -Francesco Berni was born at Lamporecchio, in the Val di Nievole, towards -the end of the fifteenth century. The first eighteen years of his life -were spent at Florence; whence he transferred himself to Rome, and -entered on the service of his relation, the cardinal Bibbiena. On the -death of the cardinal, he attached himself to the nephew, Angelo Divizio -Bibbiena. He was at one time obliged to leave Rome, on account of some -adventure of gallantry<a name="NoteRef_91_1" id="NoteRef_91_1"></a><a href="#Note_91_1" class="fnanchor">[91]</a>; and afterwards entered the service of -Giberti, the papal Datario, with whom he remained seven years, -accompanying him whenever Giberti's duties as a bishop took him to -Verona. But Berni was a poet, and fond of pleasure, and fortune could -not obtain from him the industry which might have advanced him with his -patrons. His vivacity and his poetry were agreeable in society; he -became courted as a literary man; and he was a distinguished member of -the academy of the Vignaiuoli, or vine-dressers, composed of the first -men in Rome. This learned association was established by a Mantuan -gentleman, Oberto Strozzi. The members assumed names adopted from the -vineyard; and its feasts became famous all over Italy. Berni was at Rome -when it was plundered by the Colonna party in 1526, and was robbed of -every thing: at the same time he was struck with horror at the cruelties -committed by the invaders. He mentions them with horror in the "Orlando -Innamorato." When describing the sacking of a town, he says, that his -unhappy eyes saw similar outrages perpetrated in Rome. He quitted the -service of the Datario after this, and retired to Florence, where he -lived tranquilly, being possessed of a canonicate, which had before been -given him in the cathedral of that city, and enjoying the protection of -cardinal Ippolito de' Medici, and of the duke Alexander. There is a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">{Pg 188}</a></span> -story of his being solicited by each of these princes to poison the -other, which is not supported by dates or facts. Alexander was -afterwards murdered by Lorenzino de' Medici. The cardinal Ippolito had -died before: Alexander was accused of having poisoned him; but -accusations of this sort were so frequent at that time, that, according -to historians and the popular voice, no man of any eminence ever died a -natural death. Berni is said to have died on the 26th of July, 1536. -</p> - -<p> -Berni possessed, to an extraordinary degree, a liveliness of -imagination, and a facetiousness, which caused him to invent a new style -of poetry, light, witty, but highly fanciful, which became the delight -of his contemporaries. Mr. Stebbing speaks with great disapprobation of -him, saying, "that we shall not be guilty of much injustice, if we -regard him as one of those ecclesiastical Epicureans of the sixteenth -century, whose infidelity and licentiousness branded them with infamy." -His minor poems are witty, but indecent: they appear to be written, says -Tiraboschi, with ease and rapidity, yet the original manuscripts show -that he blotted and corrected them with care. He wrote also Latin -elegies; and came nearer to Catullus, the critics tell us, than any -other poet of the age. -</p> - -<p> -The work by which he is known to us, is the Rifacimento of Bojardo's -"Orlando Innamorato," which was not published till after his death. He -occupied himself with this poem at Verona, while in the service of the -Datario. He addresses the Po in one of the cantos of the poem, begging -of it to restrain its rapid course while he writes beside its banks; and -yet at this very time his letters are full of complaints of the -occupations that take up all his time. -</p> - -<p> -It is a curious subject to enquire, what the fault was in Bojardo's -poem, that rendered it necessary that it should be re-written. Berni was -not the first to discover this, as Domenichi had already altered the -style of every stanza; yet his rifacimento had not caused it to be -popular. Meanwhile Ariosto wrote a continuation to it, which he named -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">{Pg 189}</a></span> -the "Orlando Furioso" and that became the delight and glory of Italy. -The choice of subject in these poets is admirable. When Milton thought -of making king Arthur and his knights the heroes of a poem, he selected -a subject which was devoid of any quick interest to his countrymen: wars -with France and civil struggles had caused the British name to be -forgotten. But the Mahometans were still the terror of Italy. After the -taking of Constantinople, they pressed near upon the peninsula; Venice -was kept in check, and at one time Ancona was actually taken by them. -Every Italian heart felt triumph in the overthrow of a Pagan and -Saracen, and warmed with interest when it was related how they were -driven from France. Bojardo made choice of the subject, and he added -life to it, by the introduction of Angelica. His invention, his poetic -fervour, his ceaseless flow of fancy, were admirable; yet he was -forgotten. Many of Ariosto's episodes are more tedious, and they are -less artificially introduced; but Ariosto was a greater poet: his style -is perfectly beautiful, and his higher flights entitle him to a very -high rank among the writers of verse. Perhaps, in the whole range of -narrative poetry, there is no passage to compete with the progress of -Orlando's madness. -</p> - -<p> -Berni evidently appreciated Ariosto's merits, and he saw in Bojardo's a -groundwork that emulated them. His faults are doubtless greater than we -can judge, since style alone occasioned his want of popularity: he has -many Lombardisms; and I heard a learned Tuscan say, that nothing to -their refined ear was so intolerable as the pronunciation of the north. -Style, however, was his only fault; and Berni, in altering that, brought -at once to light the beauty of the poem: he changed no incident, no -sentiment, scarcely a thought; stanza by stanza he remodelled the -expression, and this was all; yet it would almost seem that he thus -communicated a Promethean spark. Nothing can be more false than the -accusation, that he added any thing licentious to the poem. Tiraboschi -even gives credit to this idea; but, on the contrary, his expressions -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">{Pg 190}</a></span> -are always more reserved than those of the original. The comparison may -easily be made, by collating, in the two authors, the passages which -describe the meeting of Bradamante and Fiordelisa, the welcome given by -Angelica to Orlando when he arrives at Albracca, and the journey of -these two from Albracca to Provence; and the above assertion will at -once be proved; nor is it true that Berni turned a serious poem into a -burlesque. He added lightness and gaiety, but seldom any ridicule. It is -now easy, since Dr. Panizzi's edition of the original poem, to compare -it with the rifacimento: an Italian alone can be a competent judge; but -it is easy for any one to see the difference between the earnest -language of Bojardo, and the graceful wit of his improver. We will give, -as a specimen of the usual style of his alterations, two stanzas, -selected by chance in the poem: they describe the death of Agricane. -Bojardo writes thus, speaking of Orlando, when his adversary, having -received a mortal wound, asks him to baptize him<a name="NoteRef_92_1" id="NoteRef_92_1"></a><a href="#Note_92_1" class="fnanchor">[92]</a>:— -</p> - -<p> -"He had his face covered with tears, and he dismounted on the ground: he -took the wounded king in his arms, and placed him on the marble of the -fountain: he was never weary of weeping with him, entreating for pardon -with a gentle voice. Then he baptized him with water from the fountain, -praying God for him with joined hands. He remained but a short time, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">{Pg 191}</a></span> -finding his face and whole person cold, whence he perceived that he was -no more. He leaves him on the marble of the fountain, all armed as he -was, with his sword in his hand, and his crown, and then he turned -towards the horse, and thought that he recognised Bajardo." -</p> - -<p> -Thus alters Berni<a name="NoteRef_93_1" id="NoteRef_93_1"></a><a href="#Note_93_1" class="fnanchor">[93]</a>:— -</p> - -<p> -"Having his face covered with tears, the count dismounts from -Brigliadoro: he took the wounded king in his arms, and placed him on the -brink of the fountain, entreating, while he kisses and embraces him, -that all past injuries might be forgotten. Not able to say yes, the king -inclines his head, and Orlando baptized him with water; and, at last, he -found his face and whole person cold, whence he judged that he was no -more; wherefore he left him on the verge of the fountain, all armed as -he was, with sword in hand, and with his crown: then, turning his look -upon his horse, it seemed to him that he recognised Bajardo." -</p> - -<p> -This, of course, is a very clumsy mode of showing the difference; and -yet it gives the mere English reader an idea of the extent of Berni's -alterations. -</p> - -<p> -But, although he did not materially change either event or thought, he -added to the poem; and the real merits of Berni became very evident in -the introductory stanzas which he appended to each canto. It seems to me -that these have never been sufficiently appreciated: they are not jocose -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">{Pg 192}</a></span> -nor burlesque; they are beautiful apostrophes, or observations upon the -heart and fortunes of human beings, embodied in poetic language and -imagery. Many of them are to be preferred to those of Ariosto, whom he -imitated in these additions. We have noticed his address to the Po, -which is singularly beautiful; another well known interpolation is the -introduction of a description of himself: this, it is true, is -burlesque; but the style of irony is exquisite, and, surely, may be -allowed, as it is directed against his own faults and person. Mr. Rose -has translated this passage, and published it in his prose abstract of -the "Innamorato." Dr. Panizzi has quoted it also in his work. He gives -an account of his life; of his birth at Lamporecchio; of the "piteous -plight" in which he sojourned at Florence till the age of nineteen; and -his journey to Rome, when he attached himself to his kinsman, the -cardinal Bibbiena, who neither did him harm nor good and, on his death, -how he passed to the nephew,— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Who the same measure as his uncle meted;"</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -and then "in search of better bread," how he became secretary to the -Datario. Yet, he could not please his new patron; although -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"The worse he did, the more he had to do."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Then he describes his own disposition and person:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"His mood was choleric, and his tongue was vicious,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But he was praised for singleness of heart,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nor taxed as avaricious or ambitious;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Affectionate and frank, and void of art;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">A lover of his friends and unsuspicious;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And where he hated knew no middle part:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And men his malice and his love might rate;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But then he was more prone to love than hate.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"To paint his person,—this was thin and dry;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Well sorting it, his legs were spare and lean;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Broad was his visage, and his nose was high,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">While narrow was the space that was between</span><br /> -<span class="i2">His eyebrows; sharp and blue his hollow eye,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Which, buried in his beard, had not been seen,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But that the master kept this thicket cleared.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">At mortal war with moustache and with beard."</span> -</div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">{Pg 193}</a></span></p> - -<p> -No one ever detested servitude as he did, though servitude was still his -dole. He then whimsically describes himself as inhabiting the palace of -a fairy; where, according to Bajardo, people are kept happily and -merrily, amusing themselves, and passing their lives in indolence. Berni -supposes himself to be one of the company, together with a French cook, -Maitre Pierre Buffet, who had been in the service of Giberti; and he -describes his beau-ideal of the indolent life he loved. Tired with -noise, lights, and music, he finds a lonely room, and causes the -servants to bring a bed into it,—a large bed,—in which he might -stretch himself at pleasure; and, finding his friend the cook, another -bed is brought into the same room for him, and between the two a -table was placed: this table was well supplied with the most savoury -viands:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"But soup and syrup pleased the Florentine (<i>Berni</i>),</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Who loathed fatigue like death; and for his part,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Brought neither teeth nor fingers into play,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But made two varlets feed him as he lay.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Here couchant, nothing but his head was spied,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Sheeted and quilted to the very chin;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And needful food a serving man supplied</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Through pipe of silver placed the mouth within.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Meanwhile the sluggard moved no part beside,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Holding all motion else mere shame and sin:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And (so his spirits and his health were broke),</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Not to fatigue this organ, seldom spoke."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"The cook was Master Peter hight, and he</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Had tales at will to wile away the day;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To him the Florentine:—'Those fools, pardie,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Have little wit, who dance that endless way.'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And Peter in return: 'I think with thee.'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Then with some merry story back'd the say,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Swallowed a mouthful, and turned round in bed,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And so, by starts, talked, turned, and slept, and fed."</span><br /> -<span class="i14">* * * *</span><br /> -<span class="i2">"Above all other curses, pen and ink</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Were by the Tuscan held in hate and scorn,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Who, worse than any loathsome sight or stink,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Detested pen and paper, ink and horn.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">So deeply did a deadly venom sink,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">So fester'd in his flesh a rankling thorn,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">While, night and day, with heart and garments rent,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Seven weary years the wretch in writing spent.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Of all their ways to baffle time and tide,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">This seems the strangest of their waking dreams:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Couched on their backs, the two the rafters eyed,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And taxed their drowsy wits to count the beams.</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">{Pg 194}</a></span> -<span class="i2">'T is thus they mark at leisure which is wide,'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Which short, or which of due proportion seems,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And which worm-eaten are, and which are sound,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And if the total sum is odd or round."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -This is a specimen of Berni's humour, which gave the name of Bernesco to -poetry of this nature. More serious and more elegant verses abound, as -we have already remarked, and prove that Berni deserves a very high -place among Italian poets. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">{Pg 195}</a></span> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_91_1" id="Note_91_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_91_1"><span class="label">[91]</span></a>Panizzi.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_92_1" id="Note_92_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_92_1"><span class="label">[92]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Egli avea pien di lagrime la faccia,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E fù smontato in su la terra piana;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Ricolse il Re ferito ne le braccia,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E sopra 'l marmo il pose a la fontana,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E di pianger con seco non si saccia,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Chiedendogli perdon con voce umana.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Poi battezzollo a l' acqua de la fonte,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Pregando Dio per lui con le man gionte.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Poco poi stette, che l' ebbe trovato</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Freddo il viso e tutta la persona;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Onde s'avvide ch' egli era passato.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Sopra al marmor al fonte l'abbondona,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Così com' era tutto quanto armato,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Col brando in mano, e con la sua corona;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E poi verso il destrier fece riguardo,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E pargli di veder che sia Bajardo."</span> - -<span class="i12"><i>Orlando Inn. da Bojardo</i>, lib. I. can. XIX. stan. 16, 17.</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_93_1" id="Note_93_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_93_1"><span class="label">[93]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"Piena avendo di lagrime la faccia</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Scende di Brigliadoro in terra il Conte,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Recasi il Rè ferito nelle braccia</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E ponlo su la sponda della fonte;</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E pregando, lo bacia, e stretto abbraccia,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Che l'ingiurie passate siano sconte,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Non potendo dir sì, china il Re il collo,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">E Orlando con l'acqua battezzano.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">"E poichè finalmente gli ha trovato</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Il viso freddo, e tutta la persona,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Onde il giudica tutto trapassato,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Par sopra quella sponda l' abbandona.</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Così com era tutto quanto armato,</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Col brando in mano, e con la sua corona:</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Poi verso il suo cavai volto lo sguardo</span><br /> -<span class="i0">Gli par raffigurar, che sia Bajardo."</span><br /> - -<span class="i12"><i>Orlando Inn. rifatto da Berni</i>, can. XIX. stan. 19, 20.</span> -</div></div></div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="ARIOSTO">ARIOSTO</a></h4> - -<p> -Ludovico Ariosto was born in the castle of Reggio, a city of Lombardy, -on the 8th of September, 1474. Both his parents were of ancient and -honourable lineage: the Ariosti had long been distinguished in Bologna, -when a daughter of their house, Lippa Ariosta, a lady of great beauty -and address, being married to Obizzo III., marquis of Este, brought a -number of her relatives to Ferrara: these, by her influence, she so -fortunately established in offices of power and emolument, that they -flourished for several generations among the grandees of that petty but -splendid principality. -</p> - -<p> -The poet's mother. Madonna Daria, belonged to a branch of the Malegucci, -one of the wealthiest and noblest families in the north of Italy. Nicolo -Ariosto, his father, held various places of trust and authority under -the dukes of Ferrara. In youth he had been the companion of Borso, and -steward of the household of Hercules, besides being occasionally -employed on embassies to the pope and the king of France; in which he is -said to have received more substantial recompence than barren dignities, -in ample official salaries, and rich presents for special services. At -the birth of the poet he was governor of the castle and territory of -Reggio, and afterwards advanced to those of Modena; but as emolument -came easily, and there were abundant temptations, besides heavy family -expenses, to spend it lavishly, wealth never accumulated in his hands: -wherefore, having nine younger children born to him, his views with -respect to the eldest, Ludovico, were prudently directed towards -establishing him in some profession, whereby he might acquire riches and -rank for himself by perseverance in honourable labour. At the age of -fourteen or fifteen years,—when he had already signalised himself by -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">{Pg 196}</a></span> -composing a drama on the story of Pyramus and Thisbe, which was -performed by his little brothers and sisters,—no doubt as happily as -the same subject in the Midsummer Night's Dream (whenever that happened) -was enacted by Bottom the weaver and his comrades, or, rather, as -happily as Oberon, Titania, and their train could have done it in -fairy-land,—the young poet was sent, grievously against his will, to -study civil law at Padua under two eminent practitioners, Angelo -Castrinse and Il Maino. With them, like Ovid, Petrarch, Tasso, Marino, -or our own Milton and Cowper, he spent five years to little profit, -hating his profession, and studying so listlessly, that it became more -and more manifest, the longer he drawled at it, that he never would -excel in the strife of words and tournaments of tongues, by which the -ample fortunes and broad lands of many families, whose founders the gods -had fortunately not made poetical, were then, as now, like the prizes at -hardier exercises, acquired. Nicolo Ariosto, therefore, at length -abandoned the folly of spoiling a good poet to make a bad lawyer, and -permitted his son to return to those learned studies and exercises of -native talent, which had been either suspended, or indulged in by -stealth, after his parent, "with spears and lances," had driven him from -them into the toils of pleadings and precedents. Released from these -trammels, (strewed as they were to his loathing eye with the mangled -remains of causes, like cobwebs with sculls, wings, and fragments of -flies,) Ludovico, at the age of twenty, found himself free to expatiate -in that fields of classic literature, whose buried treasures, in his -age, continued still to be dug up and brought to light from time to. -time; or to roam abroad seeking adventures suited to his youthful -imagination, in the wilds of French and Spanish romance, then recently -thrown open to their countrymen by Pulci and Boiardo. -</p> - -<p> -However enriched his mind in earlier youth might have been with -knowledge of the dead languages—and we are required to believe that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">{Pg 197}</a></span> -he had made a very promising Latin oration while he was a mere boy—he -found, on returning to them, that he had lost so much as to need the -help of a master to construe a fable of Æsop. But what he lost at law, -he recovered at leisure, and added so much more to his stock; that he -speedily became eminent among his contemporaries (at a time when Latin -was more cultivated than Italian) for the critical skill; or, more -probably; the quickness of apprehension and delicacy of taste; with -which he elecidated obscure passages in Horace and Ovid. These appear to -have been his favourite authors; and each of them; in the sequel; he not -a little resembled; in their very dissimilar excellences. Under the -tuition of Gregorio da Spoleti; a scholar of high repute; whom he has -gratefully celebrated in the epistle to Bembo (Satire VI.); he so far -perfected himself in the language of ancient Rome; that his verses in it -were admired and commended by the greatest adepts in that factitious -style of composition. It was the folly of the learned of that age and -the preceding, to make Latin the universal language of writers who aimed -at the honours of literature; a scheme so preposterous, that none but -the learned could ever have stumbled upon it in their ignorance of every -thing but what the relics of ancient books could teach them. To men of -practical knowledge, it must have occurred, that all the fragments of -Roman authors could, at the most, furnish a vocabulary comparatively -small, and utterly inadequate to meet the demands of extending science, -through new and ever-changing forms of society. Under such a servitude -as made the Roman tongue itself pass under the Roman yoke, no phrase -unauthorised by classic precedent could be hazarded, nor might a foreign -word be engrafted upon the pure stock without appearing a barbarism. -Meanwhile the very rhythm, accent, and pronunciation of the original -being lost, scholars in every country were obliged to adapt these to the -vernacular sounds of vowels and consonants among themselves; so that an -Oxonian and a Tuscan, though they might understand each other by the eye -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">{Pg 198}</a></span> -on paper, would be nearly unintelligible by the ear and the living -voice. It is manifest that nothing better than everlasting patchwork, of -the same unchangeable materials, how diversely soever combined (like the -patterns produced by the kaleidoscope, ever variable, yet little -distinguishable from another), would have constituted the eloquence, -poetry, and polite literature of modern Europe. No people would have -suffered more than the Italians themselves, by employing a defunct and -unimproveable tongue, in which their brightest geniuses must have been -but secondary planets, dimly reflecting, through a hazy atmosphere, the -borrowed beams of luminaries, themselves obscured by distance, as well -as imperfectly seen from partial eclipses. It would then have been the -glory of Dante, Petrarch, and Ariosto, to have written what Virgil, -Cicero, and Horace would have as little relished in diction as they -could have comprehended in substance, where things, persons, customs, -and arts, un existent in their time, were the burthen of every original -theme. On the other hand, equally simple, obvious, and beautiful, was -the only living use that could be made of the dead languages (beyond the -profit and delight of studying them in their surviving models); namely, -that which time has made of them by transmutation and transfusion into -modern tongues of such terms as were congenial to the latter, or could -be rendered so by being employed, first, in technical or peculiar, and -afterwards in elegant and familiar senses, to obviate the necessity of -inventing new and inexpressive words, as the occasion of science and -taste required. The Italian, French, Spanish, and English languages have -thus been enriched and adorned with classical interpolations, so -gradually adopted, that they seemed to grow naturally out of their -respective stocks, as the sphere of knowledge increased, and its details -became more multiform. -</p> - -<p> -This golden age of Ariosto's life was shortened by the death of his -father; who left to his eldest son, with means exceedingly small, the -responsibility of supporting his mother, and training up his nine -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">{Pg 199}</a></span> -brothers and sisters. In the sixth of his Satires,—satires which are -almost wholly personal and autobiographic,—he says, that on this -occasion he was obliged, at four and twenty years of age, to abandon -Thalia, Euterpe, and all the nine Muses; to turn from quiet studies to -active duties, and exchange Homer for waste-books and ledgers, (<i>squarci -e vacchette</i>). These trusts, the young, ambitious, fiery-minded poet -faithfully and self-denyingly fulfilled; and he who, under parental -injunction, at the most docile period of life, would not submit to the -profitable drudgery of the law, now, in the very flower and pride of his -genius, with filial piety and fraternal affection, yielded to a domestic -yoke, and became the father of his family. In this honourable character -he so well husbanded his narrow patrimony, that he portioned off now -one, then another sister, and provided education for his four brothers, -who, as they grew up, entered into the service of sundry princes and -nobles, as was the custom with the minor gentry in that half-feudal age. -Gabriele cultivated literature, and excelled in the composition of Latin -verse; but, making Statius his model, he was never worthy to compete, -even in this respect, with his more illustrious brother. Galasso entered -into the church, which was then the wealthy and lavish patroness of -those, who, by their subserviency to her domination, or their able -advocacy of it, sought the good things of the present life under the -guise of having their affections fixed on higher, holier, and eternal -things. Yet the latter could hardly be said to be used as a pretence for -the purpose of deceiving; so lax, shameless, mercenary, and ambitious -was the hierarchy of that age. Such profligacy, however, must not be -laid to the charge of Galasso, of whom nothing bad is known. "Galasso, -in the city of Evander, is seeking a surplice to put over his -night-gown," says Ludovico in his second Satire; meaning, to obtain a -bishop's robe and rochet—to become a prelate or a canon. Alexander -was of a more enterprising disposition; and delighting in foreign travel, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">{Pg 200}</a></span> -lie attached himself to the train of the cardinal Hippolito d'Este, -brother to Alfonso duke of Ferrara, whom he accompanied into Hungary; -and, according to his brother's description of that imperious patron's -court, appears to have fretted away his hour upon a stage of artificial -manners, dissipated pleasures, and emasculating duties. Carlo, of whom -nothing particular is recorded, took up his abode in the kingdom of -Naples, where he died. These particulars are gathered chiefly from the -sixth Satire, with the additional intelligence, in the second, that, at -the time of writing it, the author had to furnish a dowry to his fifth -and last sister, then about to be married. Though this must have been -twenty years after the death of their father, the mother was still -living with him. The allusion to her in the context has often been -quoted, but it is so simply and purely beautiful, that it cannot be -quoted amiss here. Excusing himself by many reasons for not going -abroad; and having mentioned, in the foregoing lines, the dispersion of -all the other members of the family from their common home, except -himself and her; he says, -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"L'età di nostra madre mi percote</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Di pietà il core, che da tutti, a un tratto,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Senza infamia lasciata esser non puote."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Our mother's years with pity pierce my heart,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">For, without infamy, she could not be</span><br /> -<span class="i2">By all of us, at once, forsaken."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12"><i>Satire II.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -But while Ariosto, from his twenty-fourth to his forty-fifth year, was -thus humbly, yet honourably, nourishing his mother and training up his -brothers and sisters—though his studies were much interrupted at -first, and he was obliged to abandon the Greek language altogether (which -he had recently been recovering)—he maintained his reputation among -the first Latin scholars; and in the same busy interval achieved his -greatest triumph in the literature of his own land. Under the voluntary -burthen of domestic cares, the buoyancy of irrepressible genius bore him -up from obscurity; and whatever might have been the secret misgivings, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">{Pg 201}</a></span> -or the generous forecastings, of undeveloped but conscious powers, he -found himself, at nine and twenty years of age, in the first circles of -Italian society, courted, admired, applauded, and of course envied, both -for his conversation, his learning, and his poetry. In the latter, -indeed (judging by what remains), he seems to have produced nothing but -two or three indifferent dramas, certain loose love elegies, with a few -middling sonnets and madrigals,—all fantastic and pleasant enough in -their way, but the best of them affording no great promise that their -writer would ere long surpass all predecessors in one wide field of -invention, and leave to successors nothing to do in it but—not to -imitate him: so late and slowly, often, are the most extraordinary -talents brought into exercise. It is difficult to imagine, in our cold -clime, with our refractory tongue, and accustomed as we are to the -phlegm of our countrymen, how such performances as the above could raise -a man to celebrity: but verse was not then the pastime of every lover of -verse; and reputations were not so numerous as they are in these days, -when there are a thousand avenues to the temple of fame not then -opened,—and quite as many out of it,—while candidates are seen -crowding in such throngs as to tread on one another's heels, those -behind forcing onward those in front; so that our literary ephemera -resemble a procession of spectators through a palace, when a royal -corpse lies in state; multitudes coming in, passing on, going out -continually, a few pausing, none stopping. The Italian language, -however, it must be observed, for all the minor and more exquisite forms -of verse, is not less felicitously and inimitably adapted, than is the -French to the <i>badinage</i> of prose. Ariosto gained credit for these -<i>bagatelles</i>, in an age when Bembo, Molza, and many others were his -contemporaries, who, to this hour, are chiefly known by such things, and -nothing better. But, for some reason or other which is not apparent, -Ariosto was certainly looked up to, and renowned by anticipation, for a -long contemplated achievement of equal daring to any of the knights' -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">{Pg 202}</a></span> -adventures which in due course he celebrated, and which proved not less -successful in the issue than his own "Astolpho's Journey to the Moon:" -for in this (the "Orlando Furioso"), the madness of his hero covered him -with more glory than the restoring of the Paladin's lost wits did the -rider of the hippogriff. Ariosto, indeed, was the very Astolpho of song, -and both his Paladins and their countries must be sought in the moon, or -nowhere. -</p> - -<p> -He was, during the greater portion of this eventful period of his life, -in the service of cardinal Hippolito d'Este, who affected to be a -Mæcenas, and who, at least as much from vanity and ostentation as from -genuine taste or delight in their compositions, assembled round him the -prime scholars and wits of the age. By some of his biographers, the poet -is said to have received munificent proofs that the princely -ecclesiastic knew how to value the endowments of the Muses more than -personages of his rank are wont to do. But this seems very questionable, -from the poet's own account of his patron's bounty in his second Satire, -which may be noticed hereafter. Leisure and competence, however, he must -have enjoyed during this irksome and almost menial servitude, under -which, with all its debasements, he produced his "Orlando Furioso." -Having commenced the poem, he communicated the specimen and plan to his -friend cardinal Bembo, who, influenced by the pedantic prejudice -formerly alluded to, seriously advised him to compose it in Latin; a -language in which, with all the mastery that a modern could attain over -it, the licentious fables of chivalry—licentious in every sense, in -diction, sentiment, plot, narrative, and morals,—would have appeared -as heterogeneous and outlandish as the wrath of Achilles in Chinese, or the -piety of Æneas in Sanscrit. Mr. Roscoe says of Sanazzaro and Bembo, who -were brother rivals for the honours of Parnassus, that while the former -"turned all his talents for the improvement of Latin poesy, the latter -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">{Pg 203}</a></span> -persevered in cultivating his native tongue."<a name="NoteRef_94_1" id="NoteRef_94_1"></a><a href="#Note_94_1" class="fnanchor">[94]</a> Most people can give -better advice than they take: Bembo, it seems, took better than he gave; -and Ariosto had sagacity enough to follow his counsellor's example -rather than his precept, nobly answering, "I would rather stand among -the first of writers in my own tongue, than below Ovid or Virgil himself -in theirs." -</p> - -<p> -This task, therefore, for fifteen years, he pursued, with occasional -external interruptions, but none probably from within; for, his mind -being impregnated with the great conception, he could not help brooding -over it by day and by night, amidst business and pleasure, in crowds and -in solitude, at Rome as ambassador from the duke to the pope, and at -Ferrara as a courtier in the palace of cardinal Hippolito; but -especially at his birth-place, Reggio, in the retirement of a villa -belonging to one of his maternal relatives, Sigismondo Malegucci. Here, -in one of the chambers of an ancient tower within the domain, he -elaborated canto after canto of that most anomalous yet impressive poem, -which, while it appears as unconnected as a tissue of dreams in its -details, (as it resembles the stuff which dreams are made of in its -materials,) is nevertheless one of the most perfect webs of narrative -that fancy ever spun, or genius wove, from the silkworm produce of a -poet's brain. No rival composition of the same or any other class of -heroic verse has yet proved equally attractive to Italian readers in -every rank of life; though, in the "Gerusalemme Liberata" of Tasso, -consummate skill and genius of the highest order have constructed an -epic according to the strictest rules of art, to conciliate the learned, -and at the same time embellished it with all the graces of romance, to -charm the multitude, who love to be pleased, because they cannot help -it, and care not by what means, so that these be but "rich and strange." -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile the duke of Ferrara, wishing to pacify the wrath of Julius -II., who threatened him not only with the thunders of the Vatican (which -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">{Pg 204}</a></span> -were no impotent artillery in those days), but with "force and arms," in -the strongest sense of the legal verbiage, so terribly illustrated in -appeals to the sword; it is no small proof of the ability and address in -worldly affairs of one who lived amidst a creation of ideals of his own -rearing, that Ariosto was despatched as ambassador to Rome on this -occasion. Though in the sequel he did not effect his purpose of -appeasing the ferocious pontiff; yet, by his eloquence; he persuaded him -to feign a milder mood; and send an answer which meant less favour than -the words seemed to imply. For soon afterwards, Julius, who had set his -heart upon adding Ferrara to the ecclesiastical states, entered into a -league with the Venetians, who coveted Padua as the quarter adjacent to -their territories; and, while his holiness furnished an army, the doge -sent a fleet up the Po, to attack the capital of Alfonso at once by land -and by water. The papal forces, however, were defeated at the battle of -Ravenna, and the republican squadron was beaten, dispersed, or captured -on the river. On this occasion, Ariosto, unlike Horace (his master in -verse, but not in arms), fought gallantly, and made prize of one of the -enemy's richest vessels, laden with military stores. This appears to be -authenticated, though he himself never alludes to the circumstance in -his Satires (when he is boasting of his services, and murmuring at their -ill requital), and notwithstanding his reputed timidity on the water. At -the same time, the proof usually given of the latter, it must be -allowed, is too equivocal to establish the fact; namely, that when he -had occasion to disembark, he would pertinaciously wait till every body -else had landed, before he would venture to descend from the deck, using -the phrase, de "<i>puppe novissimus exi</i>:" but the coolest captain, when -his ship is wrecked or foundering, makes it a point of honour and duty -to be the last to abandon it. He is likewise said to have been as -indifferent a horseman, as <i>good</i> seamen often are (though he was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">{Pg 205}</a></span> -none), riding slowly and cautiously, and alighting on the least appearance -of peril or inconvenience in his way. Personally a coward he may have been, -but mentally courageous he undoubtedly was: there is no deficiency of -spirit traceable in his conduct on some trying occasions, any more than -there is in his verses at any time. Indeed, one who had not the keenest -intellectual delight in the boldest enterprises, the most appalling -dangers, and difficulties insurmountable except by magic intervention, -would hardly have written "Orlando Furioso;" for in no work of -imagination does the author more effectually dispossess himself of -himself, and become for the time being the knight or the giant whose -exploits he is celebrating. -</p> - -<p> -After his victories, Alfonso, still anxious to conciliate the pope, -proposed a second embassy to Rome; but none of his other diplomatists -being willing to hazard themselves in the presence of tire fiery Julius, -Ariosto was again induced to accept the charge,—no mean proof of -constitutional intrepidity, or else an ascendancy of mind over nerves -which few philosophers have attained. Accordingly he set out; but (as he -tells us himself in one of his Satires) after escaping all the hazards -of the way, every where infested by brigands in those troublous times, -he met with so uncourteous a reception from the chafed pontiff, that he -was glad to escape as quietly and secretly as he could, having received -information that, as Alfonso's proxy, he ran no small risk of being -treated as the holy father would have been happy to have treated his -master, had he presented himself at the Vatican. Indeed, Julius is said -to have openly threatened to throw the poet into the sea, if he did not -make his way back as speedily as he might; a hint of which Ariosto -promptly availed himself, not presuming to entertain a hope, had he been -cast upon the mercy of the waves, that he should have the good fortune -of Arion, to charm the dolphins with his minstrelsy, after finding that -the sacred laurel, which even the lightning spares<a name="NoteRef_95_1" id="NoteRef_95_1"></a><a href="#Note_95_1" class="fnanchor">[95]</a>, could not make -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">{Pg 206}</a></span> -his head inviolable at Rome. Alfonso himself, in one of his fruitless -negotiations with the implacable Julius, being at Rome, and under safe -conduct, was so alarmed by the perfidious treatment which he experienced -from the pontiff (who in the mean time, during a truce, had seized -Reggio, and demanded Ferrara in exchange for his unjust capture), that -he deemed it prudent to make his retreat in the various disguises of a -huntsman, a livery servant, and a friar, under the protection of the -family of Colonna, who by force rescued him from state-confinement in -the Vatican, under the abused name of hospitality. -</p> - -<p> -But the duke retaliated in a singular manner for the indignity shown to -himself and his representative. The French having taken Bologna, a -superb bronze statue of the military pope, by Michel Angelo, was pulled -down from its pedestal, and dragged by the populace through the mire -about the city, after which it was sent as a present to Alfonso. The -indignant duke (a reckless barbarian in this instance), showing as -little respect for the exquisite workmanship of the sculptor as he felt -for the piety of the pope, with a felicity of revenge almost to be -forgiven for its appropriateness, ordered the rich metal to be sent to -the furnace, and re-cast into a cannon, to which he gave the name of -Julio. The head, however, was spared, and placed as a trophy in the -state museum. Julius never forgave the duke, either for the fault of his -ancestors in bequeathing to him a territory which the see of Rome -coveted, or for his own sin in defending that territory so successfully -against both spiritual and secular violence, that he himself (the -greatest warrior who ever wore the triple crown) could not wrest it from -him. The disappointed pope expired, exclaiming, in his delirium, "Out of -Italy, ye French! Out, Alfonso of Este!"<a name="NoteRef_96_1" id="NoteRef_96_1"></a><a href="#Note_96_1" class="fnanchor">[96]</a> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">{Pg 207}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -The first edition of the "Orlando Furioso" appeared in 1515; eleven -years after its commencement; a second and third; highly improved; -followed in the course of six years; and the last from his hand; in -1532, the year of the poet's death. In each succeeding reprint; so many -and such large amendments; exclusions; and variations of the original -text were adopted; that the example has been very properly held up to -young writers as worthy of their diligent imitation—never to think -their best performances perfect while a touch is wanting which they can -give to heighten their beauty, or a blemish remaining to lower it, which -they can remove. In fact, Ariosto ceased not to elaborate his apparently -completed work to the latest period of his life. Long after it had -attained its full standard of bulk, this sole tree of his fancy -continued to flourish, by the perpetuation of the same process which had -reared it, putting forth fairer leaves and richer fruit, in perennial -course, till the failure of further supply, from his own decay, left it -to survive him in imperishable maturity. The principal interruptions of -his literary labours seem to have been the necessary dissipation of mind -during the aforementioned unfortunate embassies to Rome, his brief -government of the disturbed province of Graffagnana, and occasional fits -of silence which came upon him when his heart was wrung and his pride -wounded by the inconsiderate neglect or the more flagrant ingratitude of -mean-spirited patrons. Of the latter, cardinal Hippolito was the chief; -and the cause of their mutual estrangement was the refusal of the poet -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">{Pg 208}</a></span> -to accompany the haughty priest as one of his retinue on a journey to -Hungary to visit his archbishopric of Segovia, which had been bestowed -upon him when he was not more than eighteen years old, by king Matteo -Corvino, whose queen Beatrice was sister to Leonora of Aragon, -Hippolito's mother. This spoiled child of fortune was not only cardinal, -priest, statesman, and warrior (in each of which characters he greatly -signalised himself, according to the lax notions of morality then -prevalent); but in one instance, at least, he was a lover also, and a -rejected one, who wreaked upon his favoured rival a revenge which has -made his memory infamous. It appears that Hippolito, and his -illegitimate brother don Giulio, both paid their addresses -(dishonourable ones they must have been on the cardinal's part) to a -lady of Ferrara, of singularly attractive accomplishments, who (if -marriage were the question to be decided by the courtship of either), it -may be presumed, very naturally preferred him with whom a virtuous -alliance might be formed. Hippolito, pressing her one day to acknowledge -the ground of her preference, she laid the blame of her love on Giulio's -beautiful eyes. The cardinal secretly determined to dissolve that charm; -and soon after, accompanying his brother on the chase, in a solitary -situation, he led him into an ambush of assassins, who sprang upon the -unsuspecting youth, dragged him from his horse, and tore out his eyes, -while Hippolito stood by, directing the operation, and exulting in the -extinction of those fatal luminaries that stood in his light. -Guicciardini, indeed, says, that though Giulio's eyes were plucked out -(<i>tratti</i>) by the cardinal, they were replaced, without the loss of -sight (<i>riposti senza perdita del lume nel luogo loro</i>), by the prompt -and careful skill of the chirurgeons. Be this as it might, the man -concerning whom such a story could be told, and believed by -contemporaries, must have had a character for cruelty and selfishness, -which renders probable the arrogance, vindictiveness, and tyranny -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">{Pg 209}</a></span> -towards his dependents, of which Ariosto so bitterly, yet so humbly and -playfully, complains in his Satires, whenever he alludes to his -connection with Hippolito. The magnanimous conduct of Alfonso towards -the same unfortunate youth was strikingly contrasted with the treachery -and barbarity of Hippolito: for the duke not punishing the cardinal or -his accomplices for this outrage, Giulio and his brother Ferdinand -conspired against his life. The plot was discovered; and the brothers, -having confessed their criminal purpose, were adjudged to lose their -heads on the scaffold; but while the axe Avas suspended over them, their -sentence was changed into one of perpetual imprisonment. Ferdinand, -after suffering this for thirty years, died; but Giulio, at the -expiration of fifty-two years, was set at liberty.<a name="NoteRef_97_1" id="NoteRef_97_1"></a><a href="#Note_97_1" class="fnanchor">[97]</a> -</p> - -<p> -The poet was, no doubt, proud of his own ancient blood, and jealous of -his personal independence, while he coveted that leisure for the -pursuits of literature, on which the felicity of his existence, and the -glory of his name, in a great measure depended; feelings little -understood or little regarded by superficial grandees, whether in church -or state, in respect to those over whom they held authority or -influence. A poet, more than any other man, lives within himself; and to -do this he must have freedom, ease, and competence, however small: nor -is it less for the benefit of others that he should enjoy these -necessaries of literary life; since they are to reap the harvest of his -hermit-thoughts, sown in secret and cherished in solitude, till they -grow into beauty, like plants undistinguished till their blossoms -appear, or till they shine through obscurity like stars that come out -between light and darkness, because they can no longer be hidden. To -writers of every other class, valuable as self-searching, -self-knowledge, and self-gratification may be, for their various -exercises and undertakings, they draw or collect the greater portion of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">{Pg 210}</a></span> -their materials for study and composition from their converse with -ordinary and public affairs, the records of the dead or the living, past -or contemporary characters, manners, and events. The historian, the -moralist, or the philosopher, may please and profit his own generation, -and bequeath intellectual stores of wealth to posterity, by representing -the images, tastes, and employments of his own times; but the poet, the -perpetual poet, he who alone is a poet in the highest sense, whatever be -his theme, and how similar soever his materials may be to those of -others, must mould his subject according to the archetypes in his own -mind, and yet cause such an universal and undying spirit to pervade it, -as shall by sympathy make his thoughts understood and enjoyed in all -ages and countries, among all people who can read his language.<a name="NoteRef_98_1" id="NoteRef_98_1"></a><a href="#Note_98_1" class="fnanchor">[98]</a> -</p> - -<p> -Hippolito, praised as he has been for his patronage of letters and arts, -and poetically canonised by Ariosto himself, throughout the "Orlando -Furioso," in strains as unworthy of his genius as they were unmerited by -the hero of it, seems to have been a jackdaw patron, who loved to prank -himself with the peacock-feathers of court-poets, and strut before them, -well plucked, in his train. It is clear that he very indifferently -appreciated those talents which were the admiration of all Italy, and as -little understood the temper of their possessor. The proud cardinal -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">{Pg 211}</a></span> -scarcely rated them any higher than inasmuch as they afforded him the -insolent gratification of saying (to exalt himself) that such rare -endowments belonged to one of the creatures whom he affected to keep -about him, who would fetch and carry for their patron, while they dare -not call their souls their own—if souls they had, who could sell them -for the luxury of eating toads, with pleasant countenances, in the great -man's presence, and deserving the contempt with which they were treated -by submitting to it. To the honour of Ariosto he was not one of this -reptile species, though his narrow circumstances through life compelled -him to eat hitter bread at tables where he would have loved to sit, if -he could have found a place there otherwise than as a dependant. In his -second satire he expatiates on the degradation of that bondage, from -which his own high spirit, and the cardinal's mean one, had freed him. -Writing to his brother Alessandro, who had followed his highness into -Hungary, he inquires whether the latter ever names him, or alludes to -his pertinacity in remaining behind: he then breaks into indignant -complaints against the cardinal's courtiers, for misrepresenting the -motives of his conduct:—"Oh! ye, profoundly learned in adulation! the -art which you most cultivate and study still countenances him to blame -me beyond measure. Mad is the man who dares to contradict his master, -even though he say that he has seen the stars at noon, the sun at -midnight. When he commends or censures, every voice, on either hand, is -heard with one accord approving; and if there be a solitary one that has -not hardihood, from downright baseness, to open a mouth, with his whole -visage he applauds, and every feature says,—'I too agree with that.'" -The writer proceeds to recapitulate the reasons, "many and true," which -he had stated to the cardinal himself, face to face, without disguise, -why he should stay at home. Several of these are whimsical enough, -but they show the humour of the man; and may be comprised thus -summarily:— -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">{Pg 212}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -"I have no wish to make my life shorter than fortune and my stars shall -please. Now every change, however slight, would aggravate my malady (an -inveterate asthma), and I should either die of it, or my two physicians -are mistaken. But over and above what they may say, I understand my own -case best, and what is good and what is bad for me. My constitution ill -endures hard winters, and theirs beneath the pole (Hungary beneath the -pole! the poet was always a strange geographer, but here he is playing) -are more intense than ours in Italy. And if the cold should not blast -me, the heat would, from stoves which I abominate so much, that I shun -them more than the plague. Besides all this, the folks so dress, and eat -and drink, and play; in short, do every thing but sleep, in that strange -land in winter, that, were I forced to gulp the air, so difficult to -breathe, from the Riphean mountains, what with the vapours arising from -my stomach, and the rheum falling on my lungs, I certainly should die -some night of suffocation. Then heady wines, which are prohibited to me -as mortal poison, are by the guests swilled down in monstrous draughts, -for not to drink much and undiluted is sacrilege there. All their food -too is high seasoned with pepper and spices, which my doctor condemns as -pernicious for me. Here you may say, that I might sit down below stairs -in a snug chimney corner, far from the ill savour of the company, where -the cook would prepare my victuals to my own liking, and I might water -my wine at my will, and drink little or none at all. What J while you -are all well and feasting above, must I sit from morning till night -alone in my cell, alone at my board, like a Carthusian? Then pots and -pans for kitchen and chamber would be wanted, and I must have a dower of -household furniture settled on me like a new married bride. Supposing, -nevertheless, that master Pasquin, the cook, were pleased to dress -dinner for me apart; once or twice he might do it, but assuredly the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">{Pg 213}</a></span> -fourth or sixth time, he would set all his face in arms against me (<i>mi -farà 'l viso dell' arme</i>). * * * * You will reply, 'begin housekeeping -then in your own way, at your own expense; your footman may be your -caterer, and you can cook and eat your pullets at your own -fireside!'—Mighty well! but by my unlucky servitude under the -cardinal, I have not got enough to set up an hotel for myself in his -palace. And thanks to thee, Apollo! thanks to you, ye sacred college of the -Muses! from your bounty I have not received so much as would buy me a -cloak. 'Oh, but your patron has given you something!'<a name="NoteRef_99_1" id="NoteRef_99_1"></a><a href="#Note_99_1" class="fnanchor">[99]</a>—I grant it; -something more than would buy me a cloak; but that it was given me for -your sake, I don't believe. He has said, and I am free to tell it to -every body, that I may put my verses (there is an untranslatable quibble -in the original) where I like. His praises composed by me are not the -kind of services which he deems worthy of recompence; he doles out his -rewards to those who ride post for him, follow him in the park and the -city; who don and doff his clothes, and put his wine flasks in the well -that they may be cool at the nones; he recompenses those who watch for -him at nights, till the smiths rise in the morning to make nails, so -that they often fall asleep with the torches burning in their hands. -When I have made verses in honour of him, he says, I have done so for my -own pleasure and idleness; whereas it would be far more agreeable to him -to have me about his own person." After further complaints against his -patron, scorn of that patron's flatterers, and vindication of himself -for not being one of these, the angry poet exclaims, "What could I do in -such a case? I have no skill to shoot partridges flying; nor to hold a -hawk or a greyhound in leash. Let lads learn such arts, who wish to -practise them. Nor can I conveniently stoop to draw on or pull off his -boots and spurs, seeing I am somewhat tall. I have not much taste for -victuals, and as for carvings I might very well have served that office -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">{Pg 214}</a></span> -in the age of the world when men fed on acorns. I would not choose to -superintend Gismondi's<a name="NoteRef_100_1" id="NoteRef_100_1"></a><a href="#Note_100_1" class="fnanchor">[100]</a> housekeeping accounts; nor does it fall to -my lot to gallop again to Rome to appease the fury of the second Julius; -but even if it did; at my time of life; with this cough, which I -probably caught on such an occasion; it does not suit me any longer to -run about the streets. If then to perform such drudgery, and seldom to -go out of his presence, but stand there like Bootes by the Great -Bear,—if this be required of the man who thirsts for gold, rather -than enrich myself thus, I choose repose; repose, rather than to occupy -myself with cares for which my studies must be abandoned and plunged -into Lethe,—studies that do not, indeed, furnish pasture for the -body, but feast the mind with food so noble that they deserve not to be -neglected. And thus they do for me,—they make poverty less painful, -and wealth to be so little desired, that for the love of it I will not part -with my freedom: they cause me not to want that which I hope not to -obtain; and that neither envy nor spleen consume me when my lord invites -Celio and Marone, while I cannot expect to be seen at supper with his -highness at Midsummer; amidst a blaze of torches, blinded with their -smoke. Here I walk alone and on foot wherever I please, and when I -choose to ride, I throw my saddle bags over my horse's back and mount: -and this I hold to be a lesser sin than taking a bribe to recommend the -cause of a vassal to the prince; or harassing a parish by iniquitous -lawsuits, till the people offer pensions to stay proceedings. Wherefore -I lift up both hands to heaven, and pray, that either among citizens or -countrymen, I may live in peace under my own roof, and that by means of -my small patrimony, I may be enabled to spend the remainder of my days -without learning a new craft, or making my family blush for me." In the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">{Pg 215}</a></span> -sequel of the epistle, the relenting poet (a freeman at heart, a slave -by court habit) condescends to make an offer of certain honorary -services which he could render to the cardinal at home (not having "felt -himself so stout and nimble as to leap from the hanks of the Po to those -of the Danube"), but before he has well concluded his humiliating -overture, the exasperation, of which neither scorn, philosophy, nor -poetic pride could rid his wounded spirit, returns like an access of -disease upon him, and he breaks out into a rhodomontade of defiance. In -this passage it is hard to know whether the unhappy writer be most -entitled to pity, censure, or admiration: pity for unmerited harshness -from his patron; censure for a manifest hankering towards sycophancy; -and admiration for his magnanimous resolve, at any rate, to choose -freedom and penury rather than abundance and bondage. "If," he says, -"for a benefice bestowed on me of five and twenty crowns every four -months (yet not so well secured but that they are often litigated), his -highness has a right to make me wear a chain, hold me as a bondman, and -oblige me to sweat and tremble before him, without any regard, till I -break down and die,—let him not imagine such a thing, but tell him -plainly that, rather than be a slave, I will bear poverty in patience." -He goes on:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"An ass, all bones and gristle with hard fare,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Entering a granary through a broken wall,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Made such enormous havoc with the corn,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That his thin flanks were rounded like a tun,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And he had had enough,—which was not soon.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Then, fearing lest his hide must pay the cost,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">He struggled to get back the way he came,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But found the chink too narrow now to let him.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Thus, while he fretted, pushed, and squeez'd in vain,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">A rat addressed him: 'Sir, if you would pass,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">You must make friends with that great paunch of yours;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Behoves you to disgorge what you have swallow'd,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And e'en grow lean again, or never hope</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To thread the needle's eye of that small hole.'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">—So, in conclusion, if his Eminence</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Imagines he has bought me with his gifts,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'T will be no hard or bitter thing to me</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Straight to return them, and reclaim my freedom."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -To aggravate the poet's misfortune, about this time, or, in the words of -his first English translator, sir John Harrington, "to mend the matter, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">{Pg 216}</a></span> -one taking occasion of this eclipse of the cardinal's favour put him in -suit for a piece of land of his ancient inheritance, which was not only -a great vexation to his mind, but a charge to his purse and travail to -his body; for undoubtedly the clattering of armour, the noise of great -ordnance, the sound of the trumpet and drum, and the neighing of horses, -do not so much trouble the sweet Muses, as the brabbling of lawyers, the -pattering of attorneys, and the civil war, or rather most uncivil -disagreeing, of foresworn jurors." -</p> - -<p> -After the death of Hippolito, who was never reconciled to him, Ariosto -was persuaded to enter into the service of the cardinal's brother, -Alfonso the duke, who, if he neither exalted nor enriched the poet -greatly, honoured him for his genius, delighted in his society, and -enabled him to build a house to his own fancy in the midst of an ample -garden. This gave him an opportunity of indulging in one of his peculiar -tastes, in which, however, it was not easy to please himself, for the -pleasure rather consisted in trying to do so by modelling and -remodelling, and making experiment after experiment on whatever he had -in hand. Thus his mansion was constructed by piecemeal, pulled down in -like manner, enlarged, reduced, amended over and over again before he -permitted it to stand, or deemed it worthy of the following quaint -inscription, which he placed over the entrance:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Parva sed apta mihi, sed nulli obnoxia, sed non</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Sordida, parta meo sed tamen fere domus."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"'T is small but fit for me, gives none offence,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Not mean, yet builded at my own expense."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -"A verse," says sir John Harrington, with an emphasis as though he spoke -from experience, "which few of the builders of this latter day could -truly write, or, at least, if they could, I would lay that their houses -were strongly built, indeed, for more than the third heir." When asked -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">{Pg 217}</a></span> -by a friend how it happened that he who, in "building the lofty rhyme," -had reared so many superb palaces, could submit to dwell under so humble -a roof, he very ingenuously replied, "Words are sooner put together than -bricks and mortar." Yet in constructing his verse he was equally -fastidious; no poet probably ever bestowed more patience and pains in -weighing syllables, collocating sounds, balancing periods, and adjusting -the nicest points that bore upon the harmony, splendour, or fluency of -his compositions; yet it is the charm of his style that the whole seems -as natural as if the thoughts had told themselves in their own words. In -stocking his garden, and, training his flowers, Ariosto is said to have -been not less fickle and capricious than in framing his habitation and -adapting his poetical numbers; but with far less felicity; for, like a -child impatient to witness the growth of his plants, he would pull them -up from time to time to see how the roots were thriving below ground, as -well as how they shot upwards. This plan, however it might suit masonry -to practise on dead materials, or poetry to weave and disentangle -rhythmical cadences, was ill adapted to gardening. -</p> - -<p> -It was still, however, and to his life's end, the misfortune of Ariosto -to struggle against the solicitudes, discomforts, and mortifications of -narrow and precarious circumstances. His own family were long dependent -upon him for entire subsistence, or occasional aid; yet he seems to have -kept his inheritance, small as it was, unimpaired, otherwise he could -not have looked to it as a last resource, when courtly favour, whether -of prelate or prince, should be withdrawn. What regular stipends he -might receive for his services from Hippolito and Alfonso, is nowhere -recorded, beyond the five and twenty crowns every four months, bestowed -by the former, when he could get them, by fair means or foul, from those -who were to pay them; and according to some of his biographers, -withdrawn from him by his patron, after their quarrel. But it appears -that he enjoyed the revenues of some ecclesiastical benefices, though -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">{Pg 218}</a></span> -not in priest's orders, and that, though not married, he had two sons, -whom he educated liberally. In his third satire, he assigns a very -equivocal reason for this not very equivocal conduct; for who will -pretend that both circumstances were not greatly to his discredit, -though countenanced in simony and licentiousness by the shameless -practices of many of his most honourable contemporaries:—"I will not -take orders, because then I can never take a wife; I will not take a -wife because then I can never take orders, and I am shy of tying a knot, -which, if I repent, I cannot loose." From popes, cardinals, and princes, -both native and foreign, he is said to have received large gifts, in -return for copies of his poems, and in compliment to those rare talents, -by which he furnished the most popular, as well as the most fashionable -reading of all who spoke the Italian tongue, or understood it: yet few -of these are so authenticated as to confer unquestionable credit on the -presumed donors. -</p> - -<p> -Among Ariosto's patrons, next to Hippolito, Pope Leo X. seems to have -most excited and most disappointed his reasonable expectations, not to -call them his positive claims; for in some instances at least, where -promises have been made to the hope, the iniquity of breaking them to -the heart is only not felony, because the law cannot punish it. It is -said by one (Gabriele Simeoni in his Satire on Avarice), that "to Leo, -the light and mirror of courtesy, we are primarily indebted for the -pleasure of hearkening to the lays of Ariosto, that pontiff having given -him several hundred crowns to perfect his work." Another apocryphal -authority affirms, that pope Leo X. issued a bull in favour of the -"Orlando Furioso," denouncing excommunication against any one who should -presume to censure its poetry or its morals. This has been explained -into a mere matter of form, namely, a licence to print and publish the -work, with a denunciation against those who should defraud the author of -the lawful profits arising from the sale;—a licence, by the way, of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">{Pg 219}</a></span> -little value; since we have learned already from himself long after the -publication of the poem, that from "Apollo and the sacred college of the -Muses,"—a palpable hit at the pope and the sacred college of -cardinals, against whom he seldom spares a stroke of raillery,—he -never received so much as would buy him a cloak. A bull of some kind or -other was granted to him by Leo, according to his own confession in Satire -VII.; but if that which is once well done is twice done, that which is only -half done must be next to nothing: he received only a moiety of the sum -raised by it, which seems to have been as little productive as some of -our church briefs, or those letters of royal licence to beg, which have -been granted in this country to recompense learned men for their -labours, as in the case of Stow the antiquary. Paulo Rolli, himself a -poet of no mean rank (who translated "Paradise Lost" into Italian), in -his note on a passage in the sixth Satire, says that Leo, "otherwise the -great friend of the learned, did not promote Ariosto, because his -holiness inherited from Julius II. implacable hatred against Alfonso -duke of Ferrara, and a greedy desire to possess that city. It did not, -therefore, agree with his policy to give Ariosto a cardinal's hat, -because, being a subject of Alfonso's, the poet would not only do no -wrong to the duke; but, on the contrary, honoured as he was by his -sovereign, he would employ all his influence to thwart the injurious -designs of the pontiff against the latter. What marvel, then, that Leo, -like mighty men in every age, should prefer his own ambition to the -great friendship and esteem in which he held Ariosto; since ambition, -when united with personal interest, swallows up all other passions!" -</p> - -<p> -But what claims had Ariosto on the bounty of Leo X.? The fact is -certain, that, previous to the elevation of Giovanni de' Medici, under -that name, to the papal chair (not in prosperity only, but in exile and -captivity after the battle of Ravenna), Ariosto had been on terms of the -most cordial intimacy that can be supposed to have subsisted between -persons so unequally circumstanced with regard to birth, but having in -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">{Pg 220}</a></span> -common one passionate attachment to elegant literature. In Ariosto this -was supreme, in Leo it was only secondary; hence the heartless -ingratitude of the priest on the one hand, and the wormwood and gall of -chagrin, that exasperated the poet on the other. But his own authority -on the subject is the best; and if not the most correct, it has the -merit of being the most amusing representation of the game of -self-delusion at which both played and both lost (the one his honour, -and the other his reward); for there is no reason to doubt of Giovanni -de' Medici's affection towards his friend, and his purpose to serve him -being as sincere—till he had the means of doing so—as the poets -hopes were natural and ingenuous. Time has avenged the injured party, and -Ariosto's fourth Satire adds little to the glory of the golden days of -Leo. While the latter was a whelp, he fondled his playmate the spaniel; -when he came to lion's estate, he had too many foxes and wolves about -his den to care for his former companion. "Until the time" when he went -to Rome to be made lion<a name="NoteRef_101_1" id="NoteRef_101_1"></a><a href="#Note_101_1" class="fnanchor">[101]</a> (Leo), "I was always agreeable to him, and -apparently he loved few persons more than me. Often hath he said, when -he was legate and in Florence, that if need were, he would make no -difference between me and his own brother. Hence some might imagine, -that being at Rome, it would have been easy for me to have slipt my head -out of a black hood into a green one. I answer those who may think so -with an example; read it, for it will cost you less to read than me to -write." -</p> - -<p> -This, as well as some former and following extracts from the Satires, -are given, for variety's sake, in slipshod verse:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"The ground, one summer, was so parch'd with drought,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">It seem'd as though Apollo had resign'd</span><br /> -<span class="i2">His horses' reins to Phaëton again:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dry every well, and every fountain dry;</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">{Pg 221}</a></span> -<span class="i2">Lakes, streams, and rivers most renown'd, might then</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Be forded without bridges.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">"In that time,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">There lived a pastor, rich I do not say,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nor overstock'd with herds and woolly flocks,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Who, among others, press'd by want of water,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And having search'd in vain through every cave,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Turn'd to that Lord who never disappoints</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The man that trusts in him;—and light was given,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And inspiration to his heart, that he,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Far thence, should in a valley's bottom find</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The long-desired supply.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">"Off, with his wife,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Children, and all that in the world he had,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">He hasten'd thither, and with spade and mattock</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Delved to the spring,—nor had he deep to dig.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But having nothing wherewithal to draw,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Save one scant narrow pitcher, thus he spake:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'Let none take dudgeon, if the earliest draught</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Be for myself; the second for my dame;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And't is but right my children have the third,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The fourth, and on, till all have slaked their thirst;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Then, one by one, I will the rest should drink,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">According to their work and labour done,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Who sunk the well; to flocks and cattle next</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Refreshment must be forth distributed,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">First to the feeblest and the nearest death.'</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">"According to this equitable rule,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">All came to drink; while each, that he might not</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Be last, made most of his small services.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">This, a poor magpie, once his master's pet,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Seeing and hearing, cried, "Ah! well-a-day!</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I'm no relation, I've not help'd to sink</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The well, nor am of any further use</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To be to him what I have been; 't is plain</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That if I wait my turn, I'm in the lurch,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And must drop dead with thirst unless</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I seek Relief elsewhere.'</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">"Cousin<a name="NoteRef_102_1" id="NoteRef_102_1"></a><a href="#Note_102_1" class="fnanchor">[102]</a>, with this example</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I furnish you, to stop the mouths of those</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Who think his holiness might have preferr'd</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Me to the <i>Neri, Vanni, Lotti, Bacci</i>,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nephews and kin so numerous, claiming right</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To drink in the first year; then those that help'd</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To robe him with the best of mantles, &c. &c. &c.</span><br /> -<span class="i14">* * * *</span><br /> -<span class="i2">If till all these have drunk their fill I wait,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I know not which will be the first dried up,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The well of water, or myself by thirst."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -The poet, alluding in direct terms to his visit to Rome, and his -specious reception by Leo, says, "I had better remain in my accustomed -quiet, than try whether it be true, that whomsoever fortune exalts, she -first dips in Lethe." The subtle irony that follows cannot be mistaken -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">{Pg 222}</a></span> -in the original, while the indignant satirist, with the most unaffected -gravity, and in right good faith, seems to acquit his patron of -forgetfulness and ingratitude,—the very things with which it is -certain that he means to charge him. Ariosto can keep his countenance like -the Spartan boy, who, having stolen a fox, and hidden it under his cloak, -suffered the animal to worry its way into his heart, without betraying, -by any contortion, the secret of his theft. "Nevertheless, if it be the -fact that she (Fortune) does plunge others there (in Lethe), so that all -remembrances of the past are washed out, I can testify that he (Leo) had -not lost his memory when I first kissed his foot; he bowed himself -towards me from the blessed seat, took me by the hand, and gave me a -holy kiss on either cheek; he likewise granted me most graciously one -half of that same bull of which my friend Bebiena lately remitted me the -balance, at my own expense; wherefore, with skirts and bosom full of -hopes, but splashed from head to foot with rain and mud, I returned to -supper at my inn the same night. But even if it be true that the pope -means to make good all his former promises, and now intends me to reap -fruit of the seed which I have sown through so many years; if it be true -that he will bestow upon me as many mitres and coronets as the master of -his chapel ever saw assembled when his holiness says mass; if it be true -that he will fill my sleeves, my pockets, and my lap with gold, and, -lest that should not be enough, cram me bodily with it up to the chin -(<i>la gola, il ventre e le budella</i>); would all this glut my enormous -voracity for wealth? or would the fierce thirst of my cerastes<a name="NoteRef_103_1" id="NoteRef_103_1"></a><a href="#Note_103_1" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> be -appeased with this? From Morocco to China, from the Nile to the Danube, -and not merely to Home, I must travel, if I would find means to satiate -the unnatural cravings of avarice. Were I a cardinal, or even the great -servant of servants, and yet could not find bounds to my inordinate -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">{Pg 223}</a></span> -desires, what good should I get by wearying myself with such huge leaps? -I had better lie still, and tire myself less." -</p> - -<p> -The fable which follows, typifies the mournful but ludicrous fact, that, -while all who reach the heights they aim at are disappointed,—that -<i>for</i> which they aim at these being as unapproachable at the top of -the hill as from the bottom,—others are continually aspiring, -through all the stages of the wearisome ascent, towards the very prize -which the successful have <i>not</i> gained, though to those beneath it -appears to be actually in their possession:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Once on a time,—'t was when the world was young,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And the first race of men were inexperienced,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">For there were no such knaveries then as now,—</span><br /> -<span class="i2">A certain people, whom I need not name,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dwelt at the foot of an enormous hill,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Whose summit from the valley seem'd to touch</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The sky itself.</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">"These simple folks, observing</span><br /> -<span class="i2">How oft the inconstant moon, now with a horn,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And now without, now waxing, and now waning,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Held through the firmament her natural course,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Supposed that on the top they might find out</span><br /> -<span class="i2">How she enlarged, then shrunk into herself.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">One with a bag, another with a basket,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Began to scale the precipice amain,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Each eager in the strife to outclimb the rest;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But finding at the peak they were no nearer,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">All fell down weary on the earth, and wish'd</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Most heartily that they had stay'd below.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Their neighbours from the bottom seeing them</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Aloof, believed that they had reach'd the moon,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And hurried breathless up to share the spoil.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">—This mountain is the mighty wheel of Fortune,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Upon whose rim the stupid vulgar think</span><br /> -<span class="i2">All is tranquillity, though ne'er a bit."<a name="NoteRef_104_1" id="NoteRef_104_1"></a><a href="#Note_104_1" class="fnanchor">[104]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -With equal spleen and pleasantry, in the seventh Satire, the author, as an -experienced hand, ridicules the favourite game of mankind,—climbing -the wheel of Fortune, and never finding themselves complete fools till -they are quite at the top. The allusion (scarcely intelligible in this -country, where it is played in earnest only, and not for pastime) is to -a game of cards, of which a pack is called <i>tarrochi</i> (trumps): these -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">{Pg 224}</a></span> -are painted expressly in the manner described below, namely, the -transmigration, by instalments, of climbing men into asses; and they are -used for the purpose of playing at <i>minchiate</i> (blockhead),—a -common recreation at Florence, and—wherever else the reader -pleases:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"That pictured wheel, I own, annoys me sorely,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Which every master paints in the same way,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And such agreement cannot be a lie,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">—When that which sits aloft they make an ass.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Now every one may understand this riddle,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Without the sphinx to interpret;—for, mark well,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Each, as he climbs, begins to <i>assify</i></span><br /> -<span class="i2">From top to toe; head, shoulders, arms, thence downward;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The limbs below remaining human still:"<a name="NoteRef_105_1" id="NoteRef_105_1"></a><a href="#Note_105_1" class="fnanchor">[105]</a></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -that is, till having reached the summit, the man has the felicity to -find himself an accomplished ass. The poet, immediately afterwards, -applies this unlucky hieroglyphic to himself and his journey to Rome, to -congratulate Leo X. on his accession to the triple crown. His services, -expectations, and disappointments, while a worshipper of that golden -calf of literary idolatry (whose rites have not yet ceased), are -humorously but vindictively recapitulated. Illustrative of these, he -introduces another fable in his own free and easy manner. La Fontaine -himself might have borrowed from Ariosto the idea of that simple yet -facetious style which distinguishes his fables. To the disgrace of both, -the Frenchman seems likewise to have borrowed from the Italian the -model, as well as some of the materials, for his profligate tales. "My -hope," says the forlorn satirist, "came with the first leaves and -blossoms of spring, but withered without waiting for September. It came -on the day when the church was given for a spouse to Leo, when I saw so -many of my friends clad in scarlet at the nuptials. It came with the -calends, and fled with the ides: remembering this, I can never again put -confidence in man. My silly hope shot up to heaven, and spread over -unknown lands, when the holy father took me by the hand and kissed me on -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">{Pg 225}</a></span> -the cheeks; but high as it rose, so low it fell, and oh! in how short -space of time!" -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"There was a gourd which grew so lustily,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That in few days its foliage over-ran</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The loftiest branches of a neighbouring pear-tree.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">One morn, the latter, opening wide its eyes</span><br /> -<span class="i2">After a long sound nap, beheld new fruits</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Clustering luxuriantly around its head.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'Holla!' it cried; 'who <i>are</i> you? and how <i>came</i> you?</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Where <i>were</i> you when these wretched eyes of mine</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To slumber I resign'd?' The gourd replied</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Frankly; declared its name and kindred; show'd</span><br /> -<span class="i2">How it was planted at his honour's foot,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And in three months had thriven to that height.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'And I,' the pear-tree answer'd, 'hardly climb'd</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To this pre-eminence, through heat and cold,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And wars with all the winds, in thirty years!</span><br /> -<span class="i2">But you, who in the twinkling of an eye</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Have sprung to heaven, shall, with the self-same speed</span><br /> -<span class="i2">As you have risen, down dwindle to the root.'"</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Notwithstanding the neglect which he experienced at Rome, Ariosto was -now enjoying ease and dignity at the court of Alfonso, compared with the -servitude, or rather the servility, which Hippolito formerly exacted of -his retainers. During this prosperous period of his life, he was -appointed by his patron to a post of honour and difficulty, if not of -emolument, which required the exercise of certain politic talents rarely -possessed by poets, but which he must have possessed in no -inconsiderable measure, judging by the trusts so repeatedly reposed in -him. Graffagnana, a mountainous district lying between Modena and Lucca, -and which had been wrested some years before by the pope from the duke -of Ferrara, threw off the yoke, and returned to its former lord, upon -the demise of Leo X. This tract of debateable land was occupied by a -people proverbially rude, factious, and turbulent among themselves, as -well as refractory towards the ill-established authorities set over them -from time to time by their temporary sovereigns. Hence the woodlands and -glens on the Apennine slopes, where their country was situated, were -infested with banditti; and the inhabitants were embroiled in perpetual -lawsuits before tribunals where little justice was to be obtained, or -else at open variance with their own bands, determining right by might. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">{Pg 226}</a></span> -To that dreary province, in such a hideous state of affairs, Ariosto was -sent to redress grievances, restore quiet, and advance the -semi-barbarians a step or two in civilisation. This task,—on the face -of it more fitted to the talents of an Orpheus or Amphion, than those of -a modern minstrel; unless, like the one, he was master of the lost art -of teaching stones to build themselves into temples and palaces, or, -like the other, could draw rocks and forests, with their population of -lions and tigers, after him, by the enchantment of his lyre,—he seems -to have accomplished with moderate success among a tribe already -acquainted with his romantic poetry, and prepared to honour the author. -Sir John Harrington says, that "he so orderly governed, and so well -quieted," these riotous hordes by his wisdom and equity, that "he left -them all in good peace and concord; winning not only the love of the -better sort, but also a wonderful reverence of the wilder people, and a -great awe even in robbers and thieves." The latter phrase alludes to a -story which has been differently told, but may be received as -substantially true, of a rencontre which he had with some of his more -uncouth neighbours. One day traversing a forest, accompanied by five or -six horsemen, the little party was startled by the appearance of a body -of armed men breaking cover, and coming suddenly upon them; these -belonged to one of the gangs of brigands, which, under two audacious -leaders—Domenico Marotto and Philippo Pachione—divided the -peace of the country between them, allowing none to each other, and -depriving every one else of it. The expected assailants, however, after -curiously eying the governor and his train, permitted them to pass; which -his excellency was very willing to do, though, as chief magistrate, he had -found a whole nest of outlaws. Having formerly signalised himself in the -river fight with the Venetians, and there being no occasion to exercise -any other than "the better part of valour—discretion"—in this -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">{Pg 227}</a></span> -affair, Ariosto felt his honour as safe as his life, in riding on without -offering molestation where he experienced none. But the captain of the -band, being struck with his superior presence, demanded of the hindmost -of his attendants what was his master's name. "Ludovico Ariosto," -replied the other: whereupon, galloping up to him, the freebooter hailed -the poet (who expected a very different salutation) with the most -profound respect and courtesy, introducing himself as Philippo Pachione, -and regretting that, from not having previously known his person, he and -his troop had not done due honour to him in passing. He then launched -out into vehement praises of the "Orlando Furioso" (a poem likely enough -to be the delight of such adventurers), and with all humility and -frankness offered his most devoted services to its author. Baretti's -version of the anecdote is to the following effect:—Ariosto one -morning happened to take a walk in his night-gown and slippers beyond the -castle where he resided, fell into a fit of thought, and forgot himself so -much, that step after step he found himself, when he recovered, already -far from home, and surrounded on a sudden by a troop of desperadoes; who -certainly would have ill used, and perhaps murdered him, had not his -face been known by one of the gang, who, informing his comrades that it -was signor Ariosto, the chief of the banditti addressed him with -intrepid gallantry, and told him, that since his excellency was the -author of "Orlando Furioso," he might be sure that none of his company -would injure him, but would see him, on the contrary, safe to the -castle. This they did, entertaining him all the way with the passages -which they most admired in his poem." Ariosto himself seems to allude to -some such circumstance in the Epistle to S. Maleguccio (Satire V.), -written during his residence in Graffagnana. -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Saggio chi dal castel poco si scosta."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"He's wise who strays but little from the castle."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Two of his epistolary Satires are dated from that province; where he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">{Pg 228}</a></span> -seems to have been as little at home as Ovid in Pontus. In that first -quoted, to Sigismondo Maleguccio, at the end of the first year of his -honourable exile, he says,— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"This is the earliest note, in all the time,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Which I have warbled to the nymphs that guard</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The tree, whose leaves I once so long'd to wear:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Such is the strangeness of the place to me,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That I am like a bird, whose cage is changed,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And many a day refrains his wonted song:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">My cousin, wonder not that I am mute;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The wonder's greater that I'm not dead with spleen—</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Shut as I am, a hundred miles and more,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">By Alps and snow, and streams and woods, from her</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Who holds alone the reins of my affection."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12"><i>Satire V.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<p> -Sancho Panza, in his island of Barataria, neither administered justice -more wisely, nor was interrupted more provokingly in his personal -indulgences, than Ariosto in his government of Graffagnana; and, -unfortunately for his comfort, the stronghold of Castelnuovo was not -stormed at midnight by some friendly enemy, nor himself ejected by -violence, to his heart's content. The poet's miserable reign lasted -three long years; while the squire of Don Quixote had the happiness to -be relieved from the cares of state in less than as many days. How unfit -for the management of a brute people he deemed himself, may be judged -from the story with which he closes this epistle. -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Methinks that I resemble the Venetian</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To whom the king of Portugal presented</span><br /> -<span class="i2">A noble steed of Mauritanian blood;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Who, to do justice to the royal gift,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Nor once considering, that to turn a helm,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And draw a bridle, are two different things,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Mounted aloft, and with both hands held fast</span><br /> -<span class="i2">As at a rudder; then in either flank</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Cast anchor with his spurs, and bravely mutter'd,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'I'll warrant ye don't fling me overboard.'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The horse, thus handled, bolted off full speed;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Whereat the gallant seaman pull'd the harder,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And deeper struck the rowels sharp as spears,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Till mouth and reins were tinged with blood and foam.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The beast, not knowing which to obey—the points</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That urged him on, or curb that held him back—</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With a few desperate plunges rid himself</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of his strange rider; who, with shatter'd ribs,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Crack'd collar-bone, head broken, all begrimed</span><br /> -<span class="i2">With mud and dirt, and pale with fright, crawl'd off</span><br /> -<span class="i2">In no good humour with his majesty,</span><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">{Pg 229}</a></span> -<span class="i2">And, far away, bewail'd his horsemanship.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Well had it been for him, and well for me,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">If for his charger he, I for my province,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Had said,—'O king! O duke! I am not worthy</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of such high honour; graciously bestow</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Your bounty on some other.'"</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -While he was here, M. Bonaventura Pistolfo, secretary to Alfonso, wrote -to invite Ariosto to accept a third embassy to Rome; not on a perilous -and temporary errand, but to reside there as the representative of his -sovereign, "for a year or <i>two</i>," at the court of Clement VII. The -poet, however, had sagacity enough to decline putting himself again in the -way of Fortune, where, instead of taking him by the hand, on former -occasions, she had only splashed him with the mud from her wheel as it -rolled through the streets, encumbered with aspiring asses in every -stage of transmigration.<a name="NoteRef_106_1" id="NoteRef_106_1"></a><a href="#Note_106_1" class="fnanchor">[106]</a> His correspondent having intimated that, -besides complying with the duke's pleasure at Rome, he might stand a -chance of obtaining great and fat preferments by favour of a member of -the house of Medici, with which he had been so long and courteously -acquainted, then filling the papal chair; since it was more probable -that he should catch, if he fished in a great river, than in an ordinary -stream; he thus replies, in the seventh Satire:—"I thank you, that -the desire is ever fresh with you to promote my interest, and to change me -from a plough-ox into a Barbary steed. You might command me with fire -and sword to serve the duke, not in Rome only, but in France, Spain, or -India; but if you would fain persuade me that honour and riches may be -got in the way you propose, you must find a different bait, to lure your -bird into that net. As for honour, I have already as much as my heart -could wish: it is enough for me that, at home, I can see more then half -a dozen of my neighbours doff their caps when they meet me, because they -know that I sometimes sit at table with the duke, and obtain a trifling -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">{Pg 230}</a></span> -favour which I seek for myself or a friend. Then, if I have honour -enough to satisfy me, I should have abundance of wealth also; and my -desires, which sometimes wander, would be at rest, if I had just so much -that I could live, and be at liberty, without having to ask any thing of -any one: more than this I never hope to attain. But, since so many of my -friends have had the power to do thus much for me, and I still remain in -poverty and dependence, I will not let her<a name="NoteRef_107_1" id="NoteRef_107_1"></a><a href="#Note_107_1" class="fnanchor">[107]</a>, who was so backward to -fly out of the box of the imprudent Epimeteus, to lead me by the muzzle -like a buffalo." Towards the close of this epistle, he intimates that it -is some unconfessed affection which draws him so tenderly and -irresistibly towards his native nest; and adds—"It is well for me -that I can hide myself among these mountains, and that your eyes cannot run -a hundred miles after me, to see whether my cheeks be pale or red at this -acknowledgment. Certainly, if you saw my face at the moment I am -writing, far away as I am, it would appear to you as deeply crimsoned as -that of the father canon was, when he let fall, in the market-place, the -wine-flask which he had stolen from a brother, besides the two that he -had drunk. If I were at your elbow, perhaps you would snatch up a cudgel -to bastinado me, for alleging such a crazy reason why I wish not to live -at a distance from you." -</p> - -<p> -The attachment insinuated in the enigmatical lines, of which the above -is a prose version, is with equal ambiguity alluded to in the fourth -Satire, addressed to Annibale Maleguccio, where, excusing himself from -going abroad, on the ground that he preferred pursuing his studies at -home, and confining his voyages and travels, though they extended all -over the world, to the maps and charts of Ptolemy, he breaks off -thus:—"Methinks you smile and say, 'Neither the love of country nor -study, but of a lady, is the cause why you will not move.' I frankly -confess it: now shut your mouth; for I will neither take up sword nor -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">{Pg 231}</a></span> -shield to defend a fib." This jest has been taken in earnest, though no -man in his senses would swear on the word of a poet so uttered. Be that -as it may, it is generally understood that his life was sufficiently -dissolute to warrant his correspondent's suspicion; and to require him, -when so charged, to escape with a pleasantry, though it were accompanied -by a blush. -</p> - -<p> -After three years, being released from the cares of his government, -Ariosto returned, with entire devotion of his time and talents, to the -"sacred college of the Muses;" perfecting his "Orlando" by almost daily -touches, the fruits of habitual meditation upon its multifarious -subjects, to the last year of his life. He likewise revised several -comedies written in his youth, turning them from prose into metre; and -composing others. These were so much admired, that they were often acted -in the court of Alfonso; persons of the highest rank representing the -characters. His earliest and his latest works, therefore, were dramatic, -but certainly not his best: that, indeed, could not be expected; -theatrical performances being comparatively new in Italy, and, in -general, exceedingly crude or exceedingly pedantic. It is said that -Ariosto's plays are yet read with delight by his countrymen: the titles -of them are,—the "Menechini," borrowed from Plautus; "La Cassaria," -"I Suppositi," "La Lena," "Il Negromante," and "La Scholastica;" of which -latter, his brother Gabriele furnished the concluding act, Ludovico -having left it incomplete. A curious anecdote is told of him when a -youth, which is characteristic at once of his phlegm and his acuteness -in the practice of his art.—His father, being displeased by some -juvenile inadvertence, very severely reprimanded him in the presence of -the rest of the family. Ludovico bore the infliction with perfect -composure, neither expressing contrition, nor attempting to justify -himself. When Nicolo had retired, his brother Gabriele remonstrated with -him, both on the imputed fault, and his apparent insensibility of shame -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">{Pg 232}</a></span> -or rebuke. Thereupon the poet so promptly and effectually cleared his -conduct, that his brother, in great astonishment, asked him why he had -not given the same explanation of it to their father. "Because," said -the young dramatist, "I was so busily thinking, all the while, how to -make the best use of what my father said, in my new comedy, in which I -have just such a scene of an old man scolding his boy, that in the -ideal, I forgot the real incident." -</p> - -<p> -His seven Satires were also composed during the latter years of his -life; but, on account of their irreverence towards high personages both -in church and state, they were not published till a convenient time -after his death. They are in the form of epistles; and, in fact, were -written as such, on real occasions, to the several friends addressed in -them. These pieces allude so much to personal and family circumstances, -that Ariosto's biographers are more indebted to them than to any other -equally authentic source for their materials; and it has been for the -like reason, principally, that such copious extracts have been made from -the same valuable documents in the foregoing pages. In these remarkable -effusions of spleen and pleasantry, there is nothing gaudy or -superficial, to attract ordinary readers; nothing forced or unnatural, -to produce ostentatious effect. The thoughts are thick-sown; the diction -seems to be without effort (the result, no doubt, of consummate art), -being pungent and simple, like the best style of conversation, except when -the subject, at rare intervals, becomes poetical—when at once the -swan of Castaly launches upon the stream, swells into beauty, and rows -in gallant state till the water runs shallow again. There is none of the -stern indignation of Juvenal, nor the harshness and obscurity of -Persius, in these productions; yet, lively, sarcastic, and urbane as -they are, there is almost as little resemblance in them to those fine -but high-toned compositions of Horace, which were, unquestionably, our -author's models—though less for imitation than for rivalry. Like -every other species of literature which Ariosto tried, how much soever he -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">{Pg 233}</a></span> -may have adorned all, these bosom-communications to his intimate friends -are not exempt from occasional obscenities, so repulsive and abominable, -that they cannot be commended and dismissed without this mark of infamy, -which no merits can efface. -</p> - -<p> -Whether Ariosto, who, according to all accounts, and the lewdness of his -writings, led no very chaste life, were married or not; and, if married, -to whom; are questions which have puzzled his biographers, and are now -of little moment to be settled: no proof of marriage would redeem his -character, or purify his most beautiful poems from the moral defilement -that cleaves to them. His Muse had the plague, and all her offspring are -diseased. An author is not answerable to posterity for the evil of his -<i>mortal</i> life, but for the profligacy of <i>that</i> life which he -lives through after ages, contaminating by irrepressible and incurable -infection the minds of millions—it may be, till the day of -judgment,—he is amenable even in his grave. It is not necessary to -enter further into judgment with the offender before us in this place. -</p> - -<p> -Married, or not married, Ariosto had two sons, whom he not only openly -avowed as such, but faithfully and affectionately educated them, -according to his knowledge and views of what is good and honourable in -society, for scholars and gentlemen, as he intended them to be. His -epistle to cardinal Bembo (the sixth Satire) is highly creditable to his -parental solicitude for the welfare of his children in this respect: -indeed, he seems to have been exemplary in every relationship of life, -except that which requires personal purity,—a virtue little regarded -either by laymen or ecclesiastics in his day; and, judging by the deeper -taint of their writings, as well as the evidence of their lives, often -held in less esteem by the latter than the former. -</p> - -<p> -Towards the close of the year 1532, Ariosto was seized with illness, -brought on, it was said, by agitation, when the sumptuous theatre -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">{Pg 234}</a></span> -erected by the duke of Ferrara, for the exhibition of his comedies, was -consumed by fire; or, as his physicians, with more probability, -conjectured, by indigestion, from the habit of eating fast, and bolting -his food almost unmasticated. Whatever might have been the cause, the -disorder terminated in his death about the midsummer following. -</p> - -<p> -In the same year that he was thus mortally stricken, he had put his last -hand to the "Orlando Furioso," and left the poem in that form in which -it appears, in forty-six cantos; the five additional ones, which have -always been deemed unworthy of such a connection, having been published -for the first time in 1545, twelve years afterwards. Among what may be -deemed the apocryphal traditions concerning Ariosto, it has been -affirmed and contradicted, with very questionable evidence on either -side, that he received the laurel from the hands of the emperor Charles -V., in the city of Mantua, twelve months before his death. The very -circumstance of a reasonable doubt being raised respecting a fact, -which, if it had occurred, must have been known throughout all Italy, -Germany, France, and Spain, seems almost sufficient to invalidate the -story. One of his biographers (Minchino) says, that when Ariosto felt -the crown upon his brows, placed there by so august a personage, he went -beside himself for joy; and ran about the streets as much out of his -wits, for the time, as his own hero. It may be remarked, that nothing -could have been more out of character than such extravagance in a person -of Ariosto's temperament, who (whatever licence he granted to his Muse -in his writings, or to his passions in secret), in public, always -maintained a dignity and manliness of demeanour, which commanded -respect, and showed that he never forgot his honourable birth, or waved -the consciousness of intellectual superiority; though he was careful -that neither of these advantages should encroach upon the jealous or -vindictive sensibility of others. -</p> - -<p> -Ariosto in person was tall and strong-boned, but stooping a little, and -slow in his gait as well as in all his motions. His countenance, judging -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">{Pg 235}</a></span> -from Titian's portrait,—the lofty forehead a little bald, the black -curled locks behind, and corresponding beard upon a jutting chin, the -elevated brows above the dark bright eyes, the Roman nose, lips -eloquently moulded, teeth "passing even and white," thin cheeks, -complexion slightly olive, long visage, well-proportioned neck, and -shoulders square,—his countenance, with features such as these, might -altogether have been deemed the <i>beau idéal</i> which the first painter -had conceived of the first poet of the age, had not contemporary -testimonies assured us that the whole was not more happily than -correctly copied from the living model. -</p> - -<p> -There is little of tenderness, and less of stern sublimity, in any of -his poems; and yet it is uniformly affirmed that his aspect and manner -were grave, melancholic, and contemplative,—from habit, probably, -more than from nature; for in company he was affable, and his conversation -peculiarly captivating to women, whom, no doubt, he laid himself out to -please, and with whom he was no small favourite. So far, also, as they -could appreciate his merit, and endure that aristocracy of mind which -pressed hard upon the heels of hereditary rank, or mushroom vanity -raised from stercorarious heaps in ecclesiastical hotbeds, his society -was courted by the greatest personages in church and state, including -popes, cardinals, and sovereign princes. Unassuming, but not indifferent -to slights or wrongs from the highest with whom he was associated, he -led, on the whole, a feverish life between resolute poverty and -precarious dependence, with the continual temptation to rise to wealth -by means which he abhorred, and for which he must have abhorred himself -had he stooped to employ them. -</p> - -<p> -Of persons of the other sex, who, from time to time, caught his wandering -affections, the names of two (whether real or disguised) have been -preserved—Alexandra and Guenevra. It is understood that the former -(to whom he may have been privately married) was the mother of his two -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">{Pg 236}</a></span> -sons,—Giambattista, who devoted himself to a military life, and -Virginio, who obtained distinction in literature. For the other lady, his -passion might be no more than a poetical one—she being married, and -a mother, in an honourable family of Florence akin to his own. Finding -her one day adorning a silk coat for one of her children, so as to -resemble armour by the devices—the ground silver, and the embroidery -purple—against a festival spectacle, at which the lad was to figure -in it on Midsummer Eve, he was so inspired by the hand and the needle, that -he celebrated their performance in the twenty-fourth book of the -"Orlando Furioso;" where, describing a wound, "not deep but long," -received in combat with Mandricardo by Zerbino, from which the blood -trickled over his splendid panoply, the poet introduces the following -admired but frigid simile:— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Le lucide arme il caldo sangue irriga</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Per sino al piè de rubiconda riga.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">"Cosi talora un bel purpureo nastro</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Ho veduto partir tela d' argento,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Da quella bianca man più ch' alabastro,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Da cui partire il cor spesso mi sento."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"The warm blood, with a crimson rivulet,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Down to the foot his shining armour wet.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">"So have I seen a beauteous purple zone</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Divide a web of silver, by the art</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of that white hand, outvying Parian stone,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Which oft I feel dividing thus my heart."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -This is much more in the strain of fanciful passionless ideality (like -Petrarch's mistress, and his praises of her), than warm, ingenuous, -honest love, "whose dwelling is the heart of man," and whose language is -that of nature, which all may understand who ever knew affection. In the -same vein of ingenious artificial compliment and conceit (often, indeed, -elegant and captivating to the mind at ease, and amusing itself with -love in idleness) are the Elegies, Sonnets, and Madrigals of -Ariosto;—all calculated more to set off the beauties of his Muse than -of his mistress; and rather to command admiration of himself, than to do -honour to her, whom, though a divinity in song, and adored with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">{Pg 237}</a></span> -magnificent rites, he worships with nearly as little devotion as an idol -deserves. Of the following sonnet (the nineteenth in the series), -Paolo Rolli says, "<i>non è stata mai scritta poesia più -sublime</i>,"—"poetry more sublime was never written." It would be -hard to persuade any Englishman of this. -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Chiuso era il Sol da un tenebroso velo,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che si stendea fino all' estreme sponde</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Dell' orizonte, e mormorar le fronde</span><br /> -<span class="i2">S' udiano, e tuoni andar scorrendo il cielo.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Di pioggia, in dubbio, o tempestoso gelo,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Stav' io per gire oltre le torbid' onde</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Del fiume altier che il gran sepolcro asconde,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Del figlio audace del Signor di Delo:—</span><br /> -<span class="i2">"Quando apparir sull' altra ripa il lume</span><br /> -<span class="i2">De bei vostr' occhij vidi, e udij parole</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che Leandro potean farmi quel giorno.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E tutto a un tempo i nuvoli d'intorno</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Si dileguaro, e si scoperse il Sole,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Tacquero i venti, e tranquillossi 'l fiume."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"The sun was shrouded with a gloomy veil</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That reach'd the dim horizon's utmost bound,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The forest leaves were heard to murmur round,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">And distant thunder peal'd along the gale.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">In doubt I stood, of rain or pelting hail,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">By the proud river, rapid and profound,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Wherein Apollo's daring son was drown'd<a name="NoteRef_108_1" id="NoteRef_108_1"></a><a href="#Note_108_1" class="fnanchor">[108]</a>,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Afraid to dip the oar or hoist the sail:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">"When, from the farther bank, the light I saw</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of your fair eyes, and heard a voice, of power</span><br /> -<span class="i2">To make Leander of me in that hour.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">At once the clouds their dark array withdraw,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The sun brake forth, the rainbow climb'd the hill,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The winds were silent, and the waters still."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -The foregoing version has been rendered as little paraphrastic as might -be (though the eighth line is interpolated); but all rhymed translations -from the Italian, in the same number of lines as the original, must be -encumbered either with additional thought or verbiage—our language -being altogether more brief in syllabic composition. -</p> - -<p> -The society of Ariosto was courted by the learned and the polite; not -for his wit and intelligence only, but for the privilege of hearing his -latest compositions, as they came warm from his mind, or were gradually -wrought to perfection by that patient labour for which he was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">{Pg 238}</a></span> -distinguished, and to which he is indebted for as much of his glory as -to the creative energy of his genius itself. For when he had originated, -by force of invention, his most admired performances, he never ceased to -improve them afterwards by touches innumerable, exquisite, and -undiscerned by ordinary eyes, till the art which effected the changes at -length disappeared in its own consummation, and those seemed to be the -first thoughts in the first words, which were really the last -transmigrations of the former through the latter. No poet of any age has -more inseparably identified his conceptions with his language than -Ariosto; in fact, his ideas themselves are so vernacular, that they can -scarcely be made to speak any other than their native tongue; they defy -translation. Nothing, indeed, can be easier than to render the literal -meaning in dictionary terms; yet nothing less resembling the original in -all that constitutes its prime excellence—grace, freedom, and -simplicity—can be imagined than these. Of the "Orlando Furioso" there -are three English versions: that by sir John Harrington, in the reign of -queen Elizabeth, is coarse, careless, and unfaithful; that of Hoole, -about fifty years ago, tame, diffuse, and prosaic; the recent one by W. -S. Rose, esq., elegant, spirited, and probably as true to the text as -any readable paraphrase can be under the difficulties aforementioned. -</p> - -<p> -While this magnificently wild and sportive work was in progress, and -after its first publication, during the refining process through which -it was continually passing till the last year of his own life, the poet -was accustomed to read, at the courts of Hippolito and Alfonso, and in -other favoured circles, the cantos as they were produced, revised, or -had received their final polish. This accounts partly for the manner in -which the hundredfold story is told,—not as recorded in a book, but -as delivered spontaneously before princes and prelates, scholars and -gentry, assembled to listen to the marvellous adventures of knights and -ladies, giants and enchanters, from the lips of the gifted narrator. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">{Pg 239}</a></span> -Ariosto excelled in the practice of reading aloud, whether the subjects -were his own, or those of his illustrious predecessors or -contemporaries; to which his melodious voice, distinct utterance, and -versatile spirit gave peculiar emphasis and animation. This -accomplishment was of great value after the revival of letters, when -books were scarce, and authors depended, for pecuniary recompence, more -upon the gratuities of patrons, than upon honourable profits from -extensive sales of their writings. But though he was thus master of the -rarest art of speech,—good reading, especially of verse, being -seldomer attained (perhaps because it is less duly appreciated) than -eloquent declamation,—he was never forward either to begin, by -obtruding it upon his friends for his own gratification, nor slow to leave -off when he had wearied himself for others. As his ear was nice, and his -taste pure in this respect, he was proportionately offended by indifferent, -vulgar, or boisterous recitation. The story is told of him, that one day, -passing a potter's shop, he heard the unlettered artisan singing, in harsh -and ill-accented numbers, a stave of the "Orlando." According to sir John -Harrington, it was the thirty-second in the first canto<a name="NoteRef_109_1" id="NoteRef_109_1"></a><a href="#Note_109_1" class="fnanchor">[109]</a>,—and this -will do as well as any other in a questionable tale,—in which Rinaldo -tries to catch his horse, with as little success as many a groom and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">{Pg 240}</a></span> -gentleman has done before and since. The poet, as little able to keep -his temper as his hero on the occasion, rushed among the crockery, -smashing now one piece, then another, on the right hand and on the left, -with his walking-stick. The potter, half paralised and half frantic, -hastily, yet hesitatingly, enquired why the gentleman should thus injure -a poor fellow who had done him no harm? No harm, man?" replied the -enraged author, "I am scarcely even with thee yet: I have cracked three -or four wretched jugs of thine, not worth a groat, and thou hast been -mangling and murdering a stanza of mine worth a mark of gold!" Unluckily -for the credit of this sally of professional petulance, the same -anecdote has been told of Camoens, the Portuguese, who lived half a -century later; and something like it of Philoxenus, who lived nearly -2000 years earlier. Yet the tradition concerning Ariosto may be true; -who, remembering the classic precedent, might choose to follow it in a -case where no redress could be looked for, except from taking the law -into his own hands. At the worst, such an outrage must have been a piece -of caustic pleasantry; and it may be taken for granted, that the -sufferer was well compensated for having afforded the poet no very -disagreeable opportunity of indulging his humour; since, however the -learned may pretend to despise the opinions of the multitude, there is -scarcely any proof of fame more flattering to the proudest aspirant, -than a cross-wind of popular applause. Cervantes, who well understood -the secrets of a poet's breast, goes farther, and, with consummate -propriety, makes the student, whose verses had been commended to the -skies by Don Quixote, say within himself,—"How sweet is praise, even -from the lips of a madman!" -</p> - -<p> -Of Ariosto's personal habits, some whimsical peculiarities have been -mentioned, not worth repeating, except to gratify the very natural -curiosity—call it impertinent who will—which most readers feel -to learn all that they can about a favourite author. He himself confesses -that he could scarcely distinguish the different kinds of food; and it -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">{Pg 241}</a></span> -has been already seen that he was in the practice of eating -voraciously.—A friend, who had invited him to an entertainment for -the diversion of the company, ordered a roasted <i>kite</i> to be palmed -upon him for a <i>partridge</i>. By the blunder of a servant, the carrion -was set before a nicer guest, who smelled the joke, if he did not relish -it, and the poet escaped the savoury snare.—A stranger, calling upon -him once when he had just sat down to dinner, Ariosto eagerly ate up all -the "short commons" which had been provided, while the other was -entertaining him with most excellent discourse. Being afterwards -reproved by his brother for lack of hospitality, he coolly -replied,—"The loss was the gentleman's own; he should have taken care -of himself." His rudeness and hurry at table were attributed principally -to fits of rumination or absence of mind; and if he sometimes -over-satisfied his appetite, he did not usually indulge it with more -than one meal a day. -</p> - -<p> -Quite in consonance with the poet's reveries were his raptures of -execution. After wandering in a day-dream of thought, he would suddenly -sit down and disburthen his overcharged brain with effusions of song, -that seemed as spontaneous as spring showers that fall in gusts through -broad sunshine, though they have been long collecting in the zenith; or, -he would start from "a brown study" at midnight, and call upon his -servant Gianni to bring pen, ink, and paper immediately, that he might -fix, before they vanished for ever, the imaginations which had charmed -him in his trance. The "Orlando" thus appeared to come to him, canto by -canto, as the Koran to Mahomet; and no doubt the one was as truly -inspired as the other. His early reading had so filled and fertilised -his mind, that he subsisted in thought almost exclusively on the -inexhaustible harvests perpetually produced from the remembrances of -that; and in his latter years was so indolent, or so indifferent a -searcher of the writings of others, that he frequently passed weeks -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">{Pg 242}</a></span> -without turning over the pages of any except his own,—in which, like -the spider, he seemed to have a personal existence; so diffusing himself -through them, that it might be said of him, that, not with a touch only, -"exquisitely fine," he could "feel the whole thread," but also "live -along the line." -</p> - -<p> -In his last hours, he is represented as maintaining his philosophical -tranquillity,—neither affecting stoical sternness, nor the hideous -jocularity of some, who, to hide their misgivings, die "as a fool -dieth." He professed to leave the world without much regret—having -never, indeed, been very well satisfied with his portion in it; and, -believing that in a future state men would know each other, he observed, -that he should be happy to meet many whom he loved, and who had gone -before him. How content to die in the dark are men of the highest -faculties, and otherwise of the most inquisitive minds, who have never -known, or who have rejected, the truth of that Gospel by which life and -immortality were brought to light! -</p> - -<p> -As might be expected on the demise of one so celebrated for genius, -sonnets, elegies, and epitaphs in abundance were composed and published -to his honour. His body was buried in the church of the Benedictines at -Ferrara, when the monks of that order, contrary to their usual reserve, -accompanied the funeral procession: a plain slab of marble being laid -over the grave, was presently over-run with Greek, Latin, and Italian -verses, as the natural products of so poetical a spot. His son Virginio -afterwards prepared a chapel and sepulchre for his parent, in the garden -of the house which he had himself built, and where he had spent many of -his last and happiest days. But the good fathers had such reverence for -the relics of a poet, who certainly was any thing rather than a saint, -and whom no pope would canonise, that they would not allow their -removal. In process of time. Agostino Mosti, a man of letters, who in -early life was a disciple of the deceased, seeing no memorial worthy of -his master's fame erected, at his own expense caused a tablet (worthy at -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">{Pg 243}</a></span> -least of himself) to be placed in the aforesaid church of the -Benedictines, with a bust upon the tomb beneath, and a Latin inscription -by Lorenzo Fiesoli. A monument more superb was erected, nearly a century -later, by Ludovico his grand-nephew, bearing also a Latin inscription. -Neither of these, nor even that which the poet composed in the same -language for himself, need be inserted here; the two former being in the -common-place style of posthumous panegyric, and the latter quaint and -puerile, though of sufficient significance to have been imitated by -Pope, with reckless profaneness, in the ribald lines which he wrote for -himself. -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Under this stone, or under this sill," &c.</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -The house which he built (as formerly mentioned), with its humble -inscription, is yet shown as a monument more interesting to the eye of -the enthusiastic admirer of the poet, than any marble effigies, however -gorgeously or exquisitely wrought, could be: it brings the spectator -into personal contact with himself, by local and domestic association. -But in this respect, the chair in which he was wont to meditate; and the -inkstand from which he filled his pen to disburthen his thoughts, when -they flowed, as they did at times, like the juice of full ripe grapes -from their own pressure,—if these relics are genuine,—must be -incomparably the most touching and inspiring memorials of his life and -his labours. -</p> - -<p> -Of Ariosto's grand performance, it would be vain to sketch the outline, -or enter into formal criticism here: sufficient indications of the -present biographer's estimate of the author's powers and style of -composition have been already given. It would be idle and hopeless to -censure or carp at particulars, where little can be commended beyond the -talent with which a web of wonders and horrors (the easiest and cheapest -products of invention) has been so skilfully woven into poetical -tapestry, as not only to invest the most preposterous fictions with the -vividness of reality, but to charm or conciliate readers of all classes, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">{Pg 244}</a></span> -from those of the severest taste to those most akin to mere animal -appetite; disarming the indignation of the former by exquisite -playfulness, and transporting the latter by that marvellous intrepidity -of fibbing to which many a minstrel and romancer was formerly indebted -for his popularity. The fact is, that though, with inimitable gravity, -Ariosto tells story after story (or rather story within story), -deserving no better appellation than that which his patron Hippolito -bestowed upon his fictions when he asked, "<i>Messer Ludovico, dove avete -cogliate tante coglionere?</i>" "Where, master Ludovico, have you picked up -so many fooleries?" yet Cervantes himself had not a keener sense of -ridicule, nor in his happiest sallies was he more expert in humour or -irony, than this "prince of liars," as the curate in "Don Quixote" -designates a certain traveller. He describes, indeed, every scene, -event, and character throughout his world of nonentities, as they might -have been described, had they been actual and not imaginary: yet it is -frequently manifest, that, while he appears to be writing romance, he is -composing satire; and though he delights in prodigies for their own -sake, yet, wherever they exceed the <i>probable of the marvellous</i>, he -is not only alive to their absurdity, but rejoices to expose it, and turn -extravagance itself into pleasantry. -</p> - -<p> -In canto XXVI., Rinaldo, Ricciardetto, and Ruggiero, assisted by -Marphisa (whom, in her martial accoutrements, they do not perceive to be -a woman of war), massacre, without let or hindrance, two bodies of Moors -and Magauzes, whom they surprise at market together. This, in plain -prose, is the style in which the butchery is described:—"Marphisa, as -she fought by their side, often turned her eyes towards her companions -in arms; and witnessing with wonder their rival achievements, she -extolled them all in turn: but the stupendous prowess of Ruggiero, -especially, appeared to her without example in the world; so that she -was ready to imagine him Mars, who had descended from the fifth heaven -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">{Pg 245}</a></span> -to that quarter. She beheld his terrible strokes; she beheld them -falling never in vain: it seemed as though, against Balisarda (his -sword), iron was paper, and not hard metal; for it split helmets and -strong cuirasses; it cleft riders down to their saddles, throwing one -half of the man on the right hand, the other on the left; and not -stopping there, the same blow slew the horse with his lord. Heads from -their shoulders it hurled into the air, and often cut sheer the trunk -from the loins; five, and even more, with one motion it sometimes -despatched; and if I did not fear that truth would not find credit, but -be taken for a lie, I could tell greater things: it is, therefore, -expedient rather to tell less than I might. The good archbishop Turpin, -who knows very well that he speaks the truth, and leaves every one to -believe it or not as he pleases, relates such marvellous feats of -Ruggiero, that, hearing them repeated, you would say they were -falsehoods. Before Marphisa, every warrior seemed to be ice, and she -consuming flame: nor did she less attract the eyes of Ruggiero towards -herself, than he had won hers to him; and if she deemed him to be Mars, -he might have thought her to be Bellona, had he as well known her to be -a lady as her appearance indicated the contrary. Perhaps the emulation -then begotten between them, was no good thing for those miserable -people, on whose flesh, blood, bones, and sinews, proof was made how -much each could do." -</p> - -<p> -Now, what sympathy can be felt in such unequal conflicts? No more, -verily, than with the fate and fortunes of the elephants and castles, -the kings, queens, bishops, knights, and commonalty on a chess-board, in -a game between an adept and a novice, which is up in a few moments, -neither exalting the winner nor disparaging the loser, nor affecting -life, limb, character, or feeling in regard to one of the puppets -employed in the play. Of the same class are all the combats between -invulnerable heroes, and those who wield weapons of enchantment: the -irresistible spear of Bradamante, that unhorsed every antagonist whom it -touched; the magic horn of Astolpho, that routed armies with a blast; -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">{Pg 246}</a></span> -Ruggiero's veiled shield, the dazzling splendour of which, when suddenly -disclosed, struck with blindness and astonishment all eyes that beheld -it. Of the latter, the author himself grows weary or ashamed, and makes -his hero so too; though, with remarkable dexterity, he turns into a -glorious act of heroic virtue, the voluntary riddance of it by the -indignant Ruggiero, who throws it into a hidden well, in a nameless -forest in an undiscovered land, after having won too cheap a victory by -its accidental exposure. In these two instances (and many others might -be quoted), Ariosto laughs at his own extravagances, with as much -pleasantry as Cervantes himself at those of others: and it may, perhaps, -be affirmed that he does it with more tact and good sense, for it must -be acknowledged that few outrages upon nature in the tales of chivalry, -which the Spaniard justly ridicules, are felt by the reader to be more -improbable than the crazy imitations of them by the knight of La Mancha, -whose pranks could only be attempted by one absolutely insane, and -therefore were as little a fair mark for satire as for censure. Ariosto -has this advantage over Cervantes,—that whatever is great, glorious, -or admirable in romance, he can seriously set forth in all the pomp and -eloquence of verse of the highest species; while whatever is mean, -farcical, or monstrous, he can exhibit in strains of facetiousness, at -once as grave and as poignant as those in which the celebrated assault -on the windmills, the rout of the sheep, or the gross sensuality of -Sancho Panza, are given, without descending into caricature; though no -small portion of his whole poem belongs to the grotesque, and happily -the plan admits of every variety of style from Homer to Lucian. -</p> - -<p> -Neither the dulness nor the licence of allegory can be pleaded in -extenuation of those unnatural circumstances, in which absurdity is at -once exemplified and ridiculed, as though the caprice of genius -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">{Pg 247}</a></span> -delighted as much in the offence against taste as in the castigation of -it. Allegorical, indeed, some of his fancies notoriously are; but those -who have attempted to "moralise" the "fierce wars and faithful loves" of -his song, as many have done (and few more egregiously than sir John -Harrington, in the quaint essay annexed to his barbarous translation), -might have employed their time as profitably in raking moonshine out of -water, which flies off into millions of sparkles the moment it is -disturbed, but is no sooner let alone than it subsides into the quiet -and beautiful image of the orb above, which it showed before. It cannot -be said of Ariosto, as Addison, in a miserable couplet, says of -Spenser— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"His long-spun allegories tiresome grow,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">While the dull moral lies too plain below."</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -The moral may be there, but it would require a diviner's rod to detect -its presence, and the skill of him who set himself to extract sunbeams -from cucumbers, to draw it thence. -</p> - -<p> -The "Orlando Furioso" of Ariosto is a continuation of the "Orlando -Innamorato" of Boiardo, lord of Scandiano, his contemporary, but elder, -the latter having died in the year 1494. The relative circumstances of -the two poems form one of the most curious chapters in the history of -literature. Boiardo's work, in the original, is comparatively little -known, and less read, even in Italy; but it has been made famous -throughout the world, by having given birth to its more illustrious -successor. Whatever were the defects of the one author, or the -excellences of the other, Ariosto was undoubtedly indebted to his -forerunner, not only for many of the most powerful and captivating -fictions of his poem, but for its intelligibility and popularity from -the beginning. The latter was an immense advantage: half of the success -in a race depends upon a good start; the eagle himself cannot rise -from flat ground as from the rock, whence he launches at once into -mid-air. By the "Morgante Maggiore" of Pulci, the legends and songs of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">{Pg 248}</a></span> -the Provençals, and the pretended chronicle of archbishop Turpin, the -public mind had been familiarised with the traditions concerning Arthur -and his knights of the round table; of Merlin the British enchanter, and -the Lady of the Lake; and of Charlemagne and his peers. Yet it was the -intense interest and curiosity excited by Boiardo's magnificent but -uncompleted plot, which (so far as the principal personages are -concerned), like -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"The story of a bear and fiddle,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Begins, but breaks off in the middle"—</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -it was these which had prepared the eager and delighted multitude of -readers, or rather listeners, for any sequel to his "tales of wonder," -which should keep up the spirit of the original, and bring it to a -crowning conclusion. These, therefore, with transport proportioned to -their surprise, hailed the appearance of Ariosto's production, when, -after having been long promised, they found that it not only exceeded -their expectations, but eclipsed in splendour, beauty, and variety, the -prototype itself. This was so remarkably the case, that one of the -wittiest and most ingenious of his contemporaries recomposed the whole -of Boiardo's poem; imitating, with farcical extravagance, the fine -raillery and unapproachable humour of Ariosto; and falling in the same -ratio beneath him in elegance, majesty, and grace, when the themes -admitted or required adornment. Thus, by an unexampled fatality, the -"Orlando Innamorato" was outshone by a sequel, and superseded by a -<i>rifacimento</i> (we have no English word to express the renovating -process). Authors themselves have almost universally failed in <i>second -parts</i> to their most successful performances; and as rarely have they -re-written such works, so as to take place of the first form in which -they obtained public favour<a name="NoteRef_110_1" id="NoteRef_110_1"></a><a href="#Note_110_1" class="fnanchor">[110]</a>; yet here, on the one hand, is a second -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">{Pg 249}</a></span> -part, by an imitator, that leaves the original in obscurity, yet covers -it with glory—like Butler's description of die moon's veil— -</p> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Mysterious veil! of brightness made,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">At once her lustre and her shade;"</span> -</div></div> - -<p> -while, on the other hand, we have the example of a new gloss of that -original, by a meddler becoming the substitute for it, like the new skin -of a serpent when the old slough is cast aside. -</p> - -<p> -The mischances of Boiardo's poem ended not here. It was not published -during the author's life, except by oral communication among his -friends; what he had composed, had not received the corrections due to -its worth and his own talents; and the work itself being left imperfect -at the ninth canto, one Nicolo degli Agostini took up the strain there, -and added so much matter as brought the various subjects involved in it -to a consistent termination. A fourth experiment was made upon this -polypus production, which multiplied its vitality the more, the more it -was mangled. Ludovico Dominici recomposed the whole, and printed the -metamorphosis at Venice in 1545: of this, several editions appeared; but -it neither supplanted Berni's, nor even rivalled the original in -popularity. Thus the love and madness of Orlando was conceived, and -partly executed, by one mind; continued to a certain point by another; -new-modelled and incorporated with his own inventions by a third; -re-written by a fourth; but, above all, imitated, completed, and -excelled by a fifth. -</p> - -<p> -The felicity of fortune which distinguished Ariosto's poem, was not less -rare than the eccentric transmigrations to which Boiardo's was -condemned. The "Orlando Furioso" was both an imitation and a sequel of -the "Orlando Innamorato;" yet, contrary to all precedent, and without -example in subsequent literature, the imitation surpassed the original, -and the sequel the first draught. It was the offspring of one mind; it -was produced entire by the inventor, and never altered by any hand but -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">{Pg 250}</a></span> -his own. Yet, after its first completion, it underwent a process of -revisal nearly as long and laborious as that of composition; like a -bird, it arrived not at the perfection of its song, or the full glory of -its plumage, in the breeding season, nor till after its first moulting. -It is strange, that, with all these advantages, there should still -remain several glaring inconsistencies, which one hour's pains would -have removed, had the author been aware of what any ordinary reader -might detect. -</p> - -<p> -The poem consists of the contemporaneous adventures of many knights, -ladies, and other personages, travelling in all lands, known and -unknown, of the old continent, the moon, hell, and purgatory; those of -each individual, in fact, forming a distinct story, begun, dropped, -renewed, or concluded according to the pleasure of the narrator, who -excites and keeps up, by every species of provoking artifice, the -tortured yet unwearying curiosity of his hearers. And these materials, -anomalous as they may seem, and as they are, he moulds and mixes with -inimitable skill, and bodies them forth, as by magic, into such -captivating forms, by varying, interweaving, disentangling, and cutting -short the numberless threads of his many-coloured web, that he fails not -to produce a present effect in every passage, with little recollection -on the reader's part of its agreement with the past, as little regard to -its connection with any thing but itself, and no care whatever about its -future influence on the issue of the whole. The fable is a hydra, of -which the Orlando, whose name it bears, is only one of the heads; and no -otherwise entitled to pre-eminence, than as the hero of some of the most -stupendous, amusing, and puerile events in a series not less -heterogeneous or tragi-comic than the changes and chances of a holiday -pantomime. It cannot be denied that the poem has a beginning and an end, -with a prodigious quantity of action between, as the succession of -pages, and the number of cantos, evince; but to prove that it has a -necessary beginning, a decided progress, and a satisfactory end, would -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">{Pg 251}</a></span> -be a task which the author himself would have laughed to see a critic -employed upon. -</p> - -<p> -A hundred rivers springing from one well-head upon a mountain-top above -the clouds; descending, as the slope broadens, in as many directions; -and varying towards the lowlands with such sinuosities, that whoever -traces one stream, will find it suddenly disappearing under ground; -another emerging at that very point, traversing the surface in a -contrary direction for a while, then dipping in like manner; while a -third, a fourth, a fifth, and onward to the hundredth, in succession, do -the same; each, in the track of the untiring explorer, showing itself -and vanishing again and again, till utterly lost;—such are the -vagaries of this romance of imagination, yet conducted in such organised -confusion, that the mind is bewildered but for a moment, when a fresh -"change comes o'er the spirit of the (poet's) dream," and the reader is -absorbed, borne away, and contented to float along the tide of the tale, -unfinished before, then newly taken up, and never flagging in interest, -nor eventually impaired by all its abrupt discontinuances. -</p> - -<p> -Incoherent, however, as the whole tissue of this and every other romance -of chivalry must be, there is a moral interest in such fables, that lies -deeper than any affected allegory, or the innocent gratification which -marvellous stories will ever supply to human minds, loving and grasping -at whatever is beyond their reach; an appetite for the great, the -glorious, and the unknown, which intimates their spiritual nature, and -their immortal destiny, by desires towards things out of the body, -independent of the material universe, and contrary to the results of -ordinary experience. These fictions, notwithstanding their unnatural and -impossible details, picture real manners, characters, and events, such -as were peculiar to the transition-age of modern society, in the most -civilised regions of the Old World, when the blood of Goths and Vandals -from the north, Greeks and Romans from the south of Europe, Moors from -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">{Pg 252}</a></span> -the west of Africa, and Arabs from the east of Asia, mingled in -confluent streams round the shores of the Mediterranean; when, often -engaging in war, commerce, or political alliances, they gradually -associated their races, and originated new nations according to their -respective localities. Hence the superstitions, customs, languages, and -habits of life among the most heterogeneous tribes, bordering on the -fallen empire of the Cæsars (their common prey), were engrafted upon -those of the refined and intellectual people whom luxury had effeminated -and prepared for subjugation by more enterprising and energetic, though -at best but semi-barbarian, conquerors. Hence we frequently find, in -chivalrous records, the most gross and incongruous stories of Oriental, -African, or Scandinavian growth, allied to archetypes in classical -mythology, or derived from ancient history; and only modified, enriched, -distorted, or aggravated in grandeur, complexity, or terrible beauty, by -those who adopted them,—the rhymers and romancers, even in the rudest -periods, blending all together, or borrowing from each, according to -their fancy. There is scarcely an image, a monster, or an incident in -all their raving chronicles—wild as the dreams of lunatics, or -beautiful as those of infants are supposed to be—which cannot be -traced to Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Lucan, or Statius; so narrow is the range of -human invention; and so inextricably connected with what we have heard, -and read, and seen, are all the imaginations or the thoughts of the -heart of the most original genius. -</p> - -<p> -But the champions and the damsels, the giants and enchanters, nay, the -dragons, the hippogriffs, and the demons themselves, in these legends, -are but poetical representations of real classes and characters in -society, such as existed, or were formed by the circumstances of the -times, when war was the business, and gallantry the pastime of life, -among the hybrid populations both of Christian and Mohammedan countries. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">{Pg 253}</a></span> -The actors in the dramas of romance were, indeed, masked and buskined to -raise them to heroic stature; yet the most disguised of these -personages, in principle, passion, taste, and pursuit, were real men and -women, magnified into monsters, like flies and spiders when looked upon -through the eye-glass of a microscope. Orlando was but an exaggeration -of the chevalier Bayard, as was the British Arthur of the English -Richard, and Charlemagne himself of Francis I. -</p> - -<p> -Ariosto, in following the fashion of contemporaries, lighted upon a -theme to which his wayward and versatile genius was peculiarly adapted, -and which gave it an opportunity of displaying all its peculiarities to -the utmost advantage. Of these, the most enviable and least imitable is -that perfection of art, which he perhaps possessed beyond every other -writer, to say things naturally. All his wonders and prodigies are made -so easy and probable, that to the most fastidious reader, who does not -resolutely resist the spell of the poet, and deprive himself of the -pleasure of being beguiled by it, they appear as they would do if they -were actual events, from the daylight effect of his truth-telling style; -for whenever his delight in the extravagant carries him beyond the -legitimately marvellous, he disarms resentment, and prevents the laugh -against himself by a quiet pleasantry,—becoming himself the Cervantes -of his own Quixotes. Satirists, however, have done little to improve -mankind: they have condemned and promoted vice; they have ridiculed and -recommended folly. Instead of being the most chaste, severe, and -instructive, it is notorious that (with few exceptions) they have been -the most profligate, pernicious, and corrupting of all writers. Many of -the most illustrious deserve to be crowned and decapitated, and their -laurelled heads fixed on poles round the heights of Parnassus, as -warnings to others, while they affect to expose sin, not to betray -virtue; and while they declaim against lewdness, not to become panders -to debauch the young, the innocent, and the unsuspecting. To go no -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">{Pg 254}</a></span> -farther than the example before us. If ever man deserved poetical -honours, Ariosto did; and if ever poet deserved the curse of posterity -for the prostitution of high talents, Ariosto does. Without presuming to -judge him, even for his worst offences, beyond the present world, it had -been better for many of his readers,—why should we not say, at once, -for all of them?—that he had never been born. Whatever be her beauty, -his Muse has a cancerous sore upon her face, which cannot be looked upon -without loathing by any eye, not wilfully blind, where it ought to be -eagle-sighted. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">{Pg 255}</a></span> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_94_1" id="Note_94_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_94_1"><span class="label">[94]</span></a>History of Leo X. vol. I. p. 91. 4to.</p></div> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_95_1" id="Note_95_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_95_1"><span class="label">[95]</span></a>The lightning did not spare the laurelled bust of Ariosto, -on his monument at Ferrara, some years ago; for the wreath (being of -<i>iron</i>) was struck off from the marble temples by a flash, which -entered the church during a thunderstorm.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_96_1" id="Note_96_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_96_1"><span class="label">[96]</span></a>"At Bologna, Michel Angelo erected, in front of the church -of St Petronio, a statue of Julius II. in bronze, which he is said to -have executed so as to express, in the most energetic manner, those -qualities for which he was distinguished; giving grandeur and majesty to -his person, and courage, promptitude, and ferociousness to his -countenance, while even the drapery was remarkable for the boldness and -magnificence of its folds. When Julius saw the model, and observed the -vigour of the attitude, and the energy with which the right arm was -extended, he enquired from the artist, whether he meant to represent him -as dispensing his benediction or his curse. Michel Angelo prudently -replied, that he meant to represent him in the act of admonishing the -citizens of Bologna. In return, the artist requested to know from his -holiness, whether he would have a book in his hand. 'No,' replied -Julius; 'give me a sword, I am no scholar.'"—<i>Roscoe's Leo X.</i> -vol. IV. p. 306. 4to edition.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_97_1" id="Note_97_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_97_1"><span class="label">[97]</span></a>Leo X. vol. II. p. 52.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_98_1" id="Note_98_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_98_1"><span class="label">[98]</span></a>Ariosto seems to have had a horror of travelling under any -circumstances:—</p> - - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Men's tastes are various: one prefers the church,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The camp another; this his native soil,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">That foreign countries; as for me, who will</span><br /> -<span class="i2">May travel to and fro, to visit France,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Spain, England, Hungary; but I love home.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Lombardy, Rome, and Florence I have seen;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">The mountains that divide, and those that gird,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Fair Italy, and either sea that bathes her;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">This is enough for me. Without expense</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Of innkeepers, I roam with Ptolemy</span><br /> -<span class="i2">O'er all the world beside, in peace or war;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I sail on every sea, nor make vain vows</span><br /> -<span class="i2">When lightnings flash, for, safe, along the chart,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">I see more lands than from the reeling deck."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12"><i>Satire IV.</i></span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_99_1" id="Note_99_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_99_1"><span class="label">[99]</span></a>Apollo and the Muses are supposed to speak here, and -Ariosto replies to them.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_100_1" id="Note_100_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_100_1"><span class="label">[100]</span></a>The cardinal's steward.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_101_1" id="Note_101_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_101_1"><span class="label">[101]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"E fin ch'a Roma s'andò a far leone."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12"><i>Satire IV.</i></span> -</div></div> - -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">"a crearlo</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Leon d' umile agnel."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12"><i>Satire VII.</i></span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_102_1" id="Note_102_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_102_1"><span class="label">[102]</span></a>Annibale Maleguccio, to whom the Satire is addressed.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_103_1" id="Note_103_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_103_1"><span class="label">[103]</span></a>A serpent, supposed to have horns; probably the hooded -snake of the East Indies,—one of the most venomous and deadly of the -kind: here it is the emblem of avarice.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_104_1" id="Note_104_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_104_1"><span class="label">[104]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2"> "Ch' ogni quiete sia, nè ve n' è alcuna."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_105_1" id="Note_105_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_105_1"><span class="label">[105]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Vi si vide anco che ciascun che ascende</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Commincia a <i>inasinir</i> le prime membre,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">E resta umano quel che a dietro paude."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_106_1" id="Note_106_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_106_1"><span class="label">[106]</span></a>See the emblem already quoted from Satire VII.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_107_1" id="Note_107_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_107_1"><span class="label">[107]</span></a>Hope, that remained at the bottom of Pandora's fatal gift -to the brother of Prometheus.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_108_1" id="Note_108_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_108_1"><span class="label">[108]</span></a>The Po, into which Phaëton was struck from the chariot -of the Sun.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_109_1" id="Note_109_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_109_1"><span class="label">[109]</span></a></p> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Non molto va Rinaldo, che si vede</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Saltar innanzi il suo destrier feroce:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'Ferma, Bajardo mio, deh! ferme il piede;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Che l'esser senza te troppo mi noce.'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Per questo il destrier sordo a lui non riede,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Anzi più se ne va sempre veloce;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Segue Rinaldo, e d'ira si distrugge:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">—Ma sequitiamo Angelica, che fugge."</span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">"Not far hath gone Rinaldo, ere he spies</span><br /> -<span class="i2">His fiery steed before him, bounding free:</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'Stay, my Bayardo! prythee stay,' he cries;</span><br /> -<span class="i2">'For much am I annoy'd for lack of thee.'</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Yet the deaf horse returns not, nor replies,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Save with his heels that swift and swifter flee.</span><br /> -<span class="i2">Rinaldo follows, fuming in the race,</span><br /> -<span class="i2">—But we must give the flying lady chase."</span> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_110_1" id="Note_110_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_110_1"><span class="label">[110]</span></a>Witness the total miscarriage of Tasso, in his -"Gerusalemme Conquistata," as an improvement upon the "Gerusalemme -Liberata;" and of Akenside, in his philosophic revision of the -"Pleasures of Imagination."</p></div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4><a id="MACHIAVELLI">MACHIAVELLI</a></h4> - -<h4>1469-1522</h4> - -<p> -There is no more delightful literary task than the justifying a hero or -writer, who has been misrepresented and reviled; but such is human -nature, or such is the small progress that we have made in the knowledge -of it, that in most instances we excuse, rather than exculpate, and -display doubts instead of bringing forward certainties. Machiavelli has -been the object of much argument, founded on the motives that impelled -him to write his celebrated treatise of the "Prince," which he declares -to be a manual for sovereigns, and Rousseau has named the manual of -republicans. The question of whether he sat down in cold blood, and as -approving them, or whether he wrote in irony, the detestable maxims he -boldly and explicitly urges, has been disputed by many. Voltaire has -joined in the cry against him, begun by our countryman cardinal Pole. It -is a curious question, to be determined only by the author himself. We -must seek in the actions of his life, and in his letters, for a solution -of the mystery. Ample materials are afforded, and if we are unable to -throw a clear light on the subject, at least we shall adduce all the -evidence, and, after summing it up impartially, leave the jury of -readers to decide. -</p> - -<p> -The family of Machiavelli carried back its origin to the ancient -marquesses of Tuscany, and especially to a marquis Ugo, who flourished -about the year 850, who was the root whence sprung various nobles, who -possessed power over territories, which the growing state of Florence -speedily encroached upon. The Machiavelli were lords of Montespertoli; -but preferring the rank of citizens of a prosperous city, to the -unprofitable preservation of an illustrious ancestry, they submitted to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">{Pg 256}</a></span> -the laws of Florence, for the sake of enjoying the honours which the -republic had to bestow. The Machiavelli belonged to that portion of the -Guelph party which abandoned their native town in 1260, after the defeat -of Monteaperti. Being afterwards re-established in their country, they -enjoyed thirteen times the rank of gonfaloniere of justice, an office -corresponding to the better known one of doge, except that it was an -annual magistrature; and fifty-three different members of the family -were elected priors, another of the highest offices of government. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1469.</span></p> - -<p> -Niccolò Machiavelli was born in Florence on the 3d of May, 1469; his -father was jurisconsult and treasurer of the march, and by aid of these -offices, maintained in some degree the lustre of his family, which was -obscured by the poverty into which it had fallen. His mother Bartolomea, -daughter of Stefano Nelli, was equally well descended. Her family -derived itself from the ancient counts of Borgonuovo of Fucecchio, who -flourished in the tenth century, and her ancestors had been elected to -the highest offices in the Florentine state. She had been previously -married to Niccolò Benizzi, and was distinguished for her cultivated -understanding and talent for poetry. -</p> - -<p> -Nothing is known of the childhood and education of Machiavelli. Paul -Jovius wishes to prove that he scarcely understood Latin, but this -opinion finds no credit: Paul Jovius is a writer, whose celebrity is -founded on his unblushing falsehoods and baseless calumnies<a name="NoteRef_111_1" id="NoteRef_111_1"></a><a href="#Note_111_1" class="fnanchor">[111]</a>: he was -sold to the Medici, and attacked without scruple, and with a total -disregard for truth, those persons who were inimical to them. -<span class="sidenote2">1494.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -25.</span> -At the age of five and twenty, Machiavelli was placed as secretary under -Marcello di Virgilio de' Adriani, or, as he is commonly called, -Marcellus Virgil, whose pupil he had formerly been. Marcellus Virgil had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">{Pg 257}</a></span> -been at one time professor of Latin and Greek, and was now one of the -chief officers of the Florentine court of chancery. Paul Jovius gives -Machiavelli the name of his clerk and copyist, and adds, that, from this -master, he obtained those flowers of ancient learning which are -interspersed in his works. Nothing is at once more base and futile than -these attempts to degrade celebrated men, by impeaching their station in -society, or adventitious acquirements. It only serves to display the -detractor's malice, and to render more conspicuous the merit which could -triumph over every disadvantage. -</p> - -<p> -There is no trace of Machiavelli's taking any part in the political -disturbances of Florence at this time. The city was then agitated by the -pretensions and turbulence of the prophet Salvanorola. There is a letter -extant of his, which gives some account of the preaching and -denunciations of the ambitious friar, which shows that, if he did not -belong to the party opposed to him, he was, at least, not duped by his -impostures<a name="NoteRef_112_1" id="NoteRef_112_1"></a><a href="#Note_112_1" class="fnanchor">[112]</a>:—"In my opinion," he says, "he temporises and gives to -his falsehoods the colour of the occasion." -<span class="sidenote1">Mar.<br /> -8.<br /> -1497.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -28.</span> -The disposition of Machiavelli was observing and industrious; his -ambition was under the rule of judgment, and his hopes fixed on the -favour secure from the heads of government. For five of the best years -of his life he was content to exercise the unostentatious functions of -secretary to an officer of chancery, nor were any of his writings -composed at this period: they were the fruits of thought and experience, -and there is nothing to tell us, that, as a young man, he was warmed by -that self-confidence and restless aspiration, which he displayed in -maturer life. It may be supposed, however, that his employer, Marcellus -Virgil, distinguished his talents and recommended them to observation, -as they were both promoted at the same time, Marcellus being elected -high chancellor, and Machiavelli preferred over four other candidates, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">{Pg 258}</a></span> -to the post of chancellor of the second court. -<span class="sidenote2">1498.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -29.</span> -A month afterwards he was named secretary to 1498. the council of ten -(the chief council of the state), which situation he retained till the -revolution, which, fourteen years afterwards, overthrew the government -he served. -</p> - -<p> -During this period. Machiavelli pursued an active career: he was -continually employed on missions to various sovereigns and states. His -letters to his government on these occasions are published, and he wrote -besides brief surveys of the countries to which he was sent. His active -and enquiring mind was continually on the alert, and he stored up with -care the observations and opinions that resulted from the personages and -scenes with which he was brought into contact. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1492.</span></p> - -<p> -Italy was at this time in a state, of convulsion, torn by foreign armies -and domestic quarrels: the peace of the peninsula had died with Lorenzo -de' Medici. That sagacious statesman saw the safety of his country in -the preservation of the balance of power among its several rulers. It -was his endeavour to check the encroachments of the king of Naples and -the pope, who ruled southern Italy, by the influence of the duke of -Milan, and of the Venetian republic; while these again were prevented -from attempting war with Florence, or trespassing on the smaller states -of Romagna, by the jealousy of the sovereigns of the south. For many -years no foreign army had crossed the Alps, and the battles of the -condottieri became more and more innoxious. -</p> - -<p> -This fine system of policy fell to the ground on the death of Lorenzo. -His son Piero, who succeeded him, was a rash, impolitic, and feeble -statesman, defying dangers till they were close at hand, and then -yielding weakly to them. He had not feared to make an enemy of Ludovico -Sforza, who reigned over Milan in the name of his nephew Giovan -Galeazzo, the rightful duke. Ludovico wished to play the old part of his -wicked uncle, and to supplant the youthful prince; but he feared to be -prevented by the king of Naples. To occupy and weaken him, he invited -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">{Pg 259}</a></span> -Charles VIII. of France into Italy, instigating him to assert his right -to the Neapolitan crown, which he claimed through Rene, who inherited -it, together with the counties of Anjou and Provence. This was the -origin of all the evils which overwhelmed Italy, crushed its spirit of -liberty, destroyed its republics, and after making it a field of battle -for many years, caused it in the end to become a mere appanage to the -crowns of Germany, Spain, or France, according as these kingdoms enjoyed -alternately the supreme power in Europe. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1493.</span></p> - -<p> -The entrance of the French into Italy caused great commotion in the city -of Florence. It was considered by Lorenzo to be the policy of the -Florentines to keep allies of the king of France: but Piero acted a -thoughtless and unstable part; he at first opposed the French, and then -threw himself into their hands. The Florentines were enraged at the -sacrifices he made to pacify an enemy which he had brought upon himself, -and the result was his expulsion from the city, and the overthrow and -exile of the Medicean family. -</p> - -<p> -Charles VIII. overran Italy, and possessed himself of the kingdom of -Naples without drawing a sword, except to massacre the defenceless -people. The Italians were accustomed to a mild system of warfare; they -carried on their military enterprises by condottieri, or captains of -independent bands of soldiers, who hired themselves to the best bidder. -These condottieri consisted of foreign adventurers, who came into Italy -on the speculation of turning their military talents to profit, or of -the minor native princes, or lords of single towns, who augmented their -consequence and revenue by raising troops, commanded by themselves, but -paid by others. These mercenaries were inspired by no spirit of -patriotism or party; they fought for pay and booty; they changed sides -at the beck of their captain, who was influenced by the highest offer. -They fought to-day side by side with men whom the next they might attack -as enemies: they fought, therefore, in a placid spirit of friendly -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">{Pg 260}</a></span> -enmity; often not a single soldier fell upon the field of battle. Add to -this, they were very indifferently provided with fire-arms. The ferocity -of the French, their artillery, discipline, and massacres, filled the -unwarlike population with alarm and horror. They fled, or submitted -without a blow. But Charles lost his conquest almost as soon as he -gained it; he returned to France, and the crown of Naples fell from his -head at the same moment. -</p> - -<p> -His death followed soon after; and his successor, Louis XII., on turning -his eyes to Italy, rather fixed them on the duchy of Milan, to which he -had pretensions by right of inheritance. -<span class="sidenote2">1498.</span> -His conquest of this dukedom was speedy and complete, and he then -proceeded to possess himself of Naples. The king then reigning, Frederic -of the house of Aragon, called in the Spaniards to his aid, and he was -crushed in the collision of the two warlike nations. He was banished -Naples and confined in France, while Louis and Ferdinand at first -amicably divided, and then hostilely fought for, the possession of his -kingdom. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1501.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -32.</span></p> - -<p> -Meanwhile the first entrance of Charles VIII. into Italy had left the -seeds of discord and disaster in Tuscany. Pisa was at that time under -the rule of Florence, but repining at its servitude. When Charles -entered Pisa, its citizens implored him to restore to them their -independence: he promised to comply; and though afterwards he made -treaties to a contrary effect with Florence, the Pisans profited by his -secret inclination in their favour, and the sympathy afforded them by -the officers and men that composed his army, to shut their gates against -their Florentine governors, and to assert their liberty. From this time -it became the ardent desire of Florence to subdue the rebel city; they -exhausted all their resources in prosecution of this favourite object. -Each year they attacked the walls, and destroyed the crops, of the -unfortunate but resolute Pisans; and, in each treaty they made with -France, the chief article was a promise of aid in this desired conquest. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">{Pg 261}</a></span> -<span class="sidenote1">1500.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -31.</span> -At one time they formed the siege of Pisa, and solicited Louis XII. to -supply them with troops and artillery. That politic sovereign, who -wished to strengthen himself in Italy, sent them double the force they -required. These auxiliaries, composed of Swiss and Gascons, pillaged -both friends and foes, quarrelled with the Florentine commissaries, came -to a secret understanding with Pisa, and, finally, on a pretence of a -delay of pay, raised the siege. The king of France accused Florence of -being the cause of this affront sustained by his arms; and, to appease -him, and to obtain, if possible, further assistance, the republic -deputed Francesco della Gaza, and Machiavelli, as envoys to the French -court. -</p> - -<p> -A year before Machiavelli had been employed on a mission to Caterina -Sforza, countess of Forli, with regard to the terms of engagement -offered to her son, for serving Florence as condottiere; but the -legation to France was of greater importance. The commissions, or -instructions of the government to Machiavelli, and his letters to the -state during this and all his other missions, are published. They are -long and minute, but far less tedious than such correspondences usually -are; and the reading them is indispensable to the forming a just notion -of his character, and a view of the actions of his life. There is -something curiously interesting in the style of his instructions on the -present occasion; they display a civic simplicity of manners and -language, and a sagacity in viewing the personages and events in -question, combined with true Italian astute policy. Guicciardini -observes, that when the French first entered Italy, they were astonished -and disgusted by the want of faith and falsehood which prevailed in -their negotiations with the native princes and states. In this -commission the Florentine government gave instructions to their envoys -savouring of the prevalent vice of their country. The commander of the -French forces before Pisa, Beaumont, had been appointed at their own -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">{Pg 262}</a></span> -request: he failed without any fault of his own, through the -insubordination of the troops under him. The state of Florence -instructed its envoys:—"According to circumstances you may accuse him -violently, and cast on him the imputation of cowardice and corruption; -or free him from all blame, and, speaking honourably of him, throw all -the fault upon others. And take care how you criminate him, as we do not -wish to lose his favour, without gaining any thing elsewhere by such a -proceeding." -</p> - -<p> -Machiavelli and his fellow envoy remained in France three months, -following the king and his court to Montargis, Melun, Plessis, and -Tours. They were faithful and industrious in fulfilling their duties, -especially Machiavelli; Francesco della Caza being taken ill, and -spending the greater part of his time at Paris. They failed in their -object: the king wishing Florence to engage troops from him on the same -terms, of paying all the expenses, and the Florentines wishing to induce -him to form the siege at his own risk, reimbursing him only in case of -success. Machiavelli meanwhile was very desirous to return home; -"because," he writes, "my father died only a month before my departure, -and since then I have lost a sister, and all my affairs are in disorder, -so that I am injured in many ways." Towards the end of October, Florence -sent an ambassador with greater powers to the French court, and the -envoys returned to Italy. -</p> - -<p> -His next legation was to Cæsar Borgia. It is necessary to enlarge upon -this mission. The great doubt that clouds Machiavelli's character regards -the spirit in which he wrote the "Prince,"—whether he sincerely -recommended the detestable principles of government which he appears to -advocate, or used the weapons of irony and sarcasm to denounce a system -of tyranny which then oppressed his native country. The example he -brings forward most frequently in his treatise, is that of Cæsar -Borgia: his mode of governing his states, and the artifice and -resolution with which he destroyed his enemies, are adduced as worthy of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">{Pg 263}</a></span> -applause and imitation. We must, therefore, not only enquire what the -deeds of this man were, but endeavour to discover the real sentiments of -Machiavelli, the opinion that he formed upon his conduct, and the -conclusions which he drew from his success. We may also mention that the -secretary has been accused of being Borgia's confidant in his plots. Mr. -Roscoe has lightly adopted this idea; but the course of the present -narration will easily disprove it. -</p> - -<p> -Soon after the death of Lorenzo de' Medici, died Innocent VIII.; and -Roderigo Borgia, a native of Valentia in Spain, and one of the most -ancient of the cardinals, was chosen pope in his room. His election was -carried by force of bribery and intrigue, to the horror and amazement of -the whole Christian world; since not only the methods by which he rose -were known, but also the character and actions of the man thus -exalted.<a name="NoteRef_113_1" id="NoteRef_113_1"></a><a href="#Note_113_1" class="fnanchor">[113]</a> The new pontiff assumed the name of Alexander VI. "He was -a man," to use the words of Guicciardini, "of singular prudence and -sagacity; endued with great penetration, and marvellous powers of -persuasion, and always acting with extreme forethought and policy. But -these good qualities were darkly clouded by the worst vices. His -depraved life, his total want of shame, his contempt for good faith, -religion, and truth, his matchless deceit, insatiable avarice, barbarous -cruelty, and unbounded desire to exalt his numerous offspring, who were -not less dissolute and unprincipled than himself, stained his character, -and marked his reign with inexpressible infamy." -</p> - -<p> -Cæsar Borgia, his younger son, had been educated for the church; and, -despite his illegitimate birth, was raised to the rank of cardinal. But -Caesar disliked the sacerdotal profession, and was jealous of his elder -brother, the duke of Candia, whom his father was desirous of raising to -the highest temporal rank, both because of his success in arms, and also -on account of the preference shown him by their sister Lucretia. Incited -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">{Pg 264}</a></span> -by these criminal passions, he one night caused the duke to be waylaid, -murdered, and thrown into the Tiber. The pope was at first overwhelmed -with grief on his son's death, and made great show of repentance and -reformation; but soon after he cast aside all thoughts of this kind, and -returned with renewed eagerness to his former pursuits and projects. -Cæsar gained the point at which he aimed. He was permitted to abdicate -the cardinal's hat; and, in reward for the dispensation which the pope -granted Louis XII. to divorce his first wife, and to marry Anne of -Britany, he obtained the duchy of Valence in France, and henceforth was -commonly called by the name of the duca Valentino, or Valentian duke. -</p> - -<p> -It was the chief ambition of this new temporal noble to form a -principality in Italy. The territories of the marquisate of Savoy, of -the duchy of Milan, and of the Venetian republic, embraced the greater -portion of the peninsula north of the Apennines. To the south, the -kingdom of Naples, Rome, and the republic of Florence, were the -principal states; but other territories remained, a sovereignty over -which was claimed by the popes, but which obeyed a variety of petty -lords, whose families had for centuries enjoyed the rule. The various -cities of Romagna to the east, Bologna to the north, Piombino to the -west, and Perugia to the south, formed the chief: of these Cæsar Borgia -resolved to possess himself, extending a prophetic eye to the future -conquest of Tuscany. Already he had acquired dominion over Romagna: he -dispossessed the duke of Urbino and the prince of Piombino of their -states, and now he turned his eyes towards Bologna. Giovanni Bentivoglio -had long been lord of this wealthy city; good fortune, rather than -talents or a spirit of enterprise, had raised him, and he spared no -blood in confirming his power. Cæsar Borgia was supported in his -encroachments by an alliance with Louis XII. In vain was it represented -to this monarch<a name="NoteRef_114_1" id="NoteRef_114_1"></a><a href="#Note_114_1" class="fnanchor">[114]</a>, "that it ill became the splendour of the French -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">{Pg 265}</a></span> -crown, and the title of most Christian king, to show favour to an -infamous tyrant, the destroyer of many states; a man who thirsted for -human blood, and was an example to the whole world of perfidy and -inhumanity; who, like a public robber, had broken faith with and -murdered so many princes and nobles; one stained with the blood of his -nearest kindred, and whose crimes of poisoning and stabbing were -unequalled in a Christian country." Louis favoured him, not so much from -his own inclination, as at the instigation of the cardinal d'Amboise, -who was desirous of currying favour with the pope; and who, by -protecting his son, obtained the high office of legate to France. -</p> - -<p> -At the moment of the commencement of his attack on Bologna, while -running a full career of success, Cæsar Borgia received a check from -the revolt of his chief condottieri. Like all the other princes of -Italy, the army of the duke of Valence consisted of various bands, -independent of each other, and obeying several distinct captains. The -chief among these were Vitellozzo Vitelli, lord of Città Castello, -Oliverotto da Fermo, in the March, and Paolo Orsino, who was master of a -large portion of the patrimony of St. Peter, and the duke of Gravina, -also of the Orsini family. These men assembled at Magione, near Perugia; -they were joined, in their consultations by cardinal Orsini, chief of -the family, and then at enmity with the pope; Giovanpaolo Baglioni, lord -of Perugia, Hermes Bentivoglio, who represented his father, lord of -Bologna, and Antonio da Venafro, minister of Pandolfo Petrucci, lord of -Siena. These last-named nobles feared the encroachments of Borgia, and -gladly availed themselves of an opportunity to seduce away his captains, -and to check his enterprises. It is to be remembered that the -individuals thus conspiring were men stained with the crimes of -treachery and assassination, then so rife in Italy—men whose aim was -power, and who thought every method that led to it justifiable. For -Cæsar ran no new career of crime: he travelled in the same path with -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">{Pg 266}</a></span> -many of his contemporaries, while he excelled them all in resolution, -intrepidity, and remorseless cruelty: his abilities were greater, his -conscience more seared. Inhuman, stern, and treacherous, he was yet -sagacious, eloquent, courteous, and plausible. It was a common saying at -Rome, that the pope never did what he said, and that his son never said -what he did.<a name="NoteRef_115_1" id="NoteRef_115_1"></a><a href="#Note_115_1" class="fnanchor">[115]</a> Prudence and success meanwhile gained for him the -respect even of those by whom he was abhorred. -</p> - -<p> -The conspirators at Magione were at once aware of the character of the -man with whom they had to deal, and the small faith they could repose in -each other; but they saw their destruction in the fulfilment of Borgia's -ambitious schemes; and this served as a common bond between them. They -took care to gather together their troops, and, occupying the country -between Romagna and Rome, they hoped to prevent Caesar from receiving -aid from his father. The duke of Urbino, whose duchy Borgia had lately -seized, joined the league, and suddenly appearing at the head of some -forces, repossessed himself of his territories, in which he was greatly -beloved. Borgia was at Imola with but few troops when he heard of the -loss of Urbino, and the revolt of his captains. These men invited the -Florentines to join them. The republic feared Borgia, but they hated yet -more the conspirators, as there existed between them various and urgent -motives of enmity: they feared also to displease the king of France by -taking part against his ally. They discountenanced, therefore, the -advances of the captains, and sent Machiavelli to the duke at Imola, to -inform him of this circumstance, and to assure him in general terms of -their continued amity; and, moreover, to watch the progress of the -conspiracy, and to learn what hope Borgia entertained of repelling the -menaced injury. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1502.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -33.</span></p> - -<p> -Machiavelli approached without any feeling of abhorrence, a man honoured -and protected by the king of France. He had no sympathy with the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">{Pg 267}</a></span> -conspirators, but rather hated them, as the enemies of his country, and -as traitors. Borgia commanded more respect. He was a man of greater -powers of mind; a high and commanding spirit, running a prosperous -career, who had hitherto overcome every obstacle to his -advancement.<a name="NoteRef_116_1" id="NoteRef_116_1"></a><a href="#Note_116_1" class="fnanchor">[116]</a> It was a curious study to observe the methods he would -use to crush the nest of traitors in league against him. -</p> - -<p> -Machiavelli arrived at Imola on the 7th of October, and was instantly -admitted to an audience with the duke. Borgia received him with every -show of courtesy and kindness. He was in high spirits, declaring that -the stars that year were inimical to rebels, and that the revolt was a -piece of good fortune, since it enabled him to distinguish his friends -from his foes, at a critical moment. He declared that his clemency had -been the cause of this disaster, and frankly entered into details -concerning the progress made by the confederates. -</p> - -<p> -From day to day Machiavelli continued to see and converse with Borgia, -who exerted the grace of manner for which he was renowned, and a show of -cordiality, to win the suffrage of the yet inexperienced secretary. "I -cannot express to you," Machiavelli writes to his government, "the -earnest demonstrations he makes of affection towards the republic, and -how eagerly he justifies himself with regard to his threatened attack -last year, throwing the blame upon Vitellozzo Vitelli." Borgia's chief -endeavour at this moment was to influence the secretary to persuade his -government to give some public testimonial of its attachment to him. He -spoke with the utmost confidence of his ultimate success; assuring -Machiavelli, that among the many fortunate events that had befallen him, -this conspiracy was most lucky of all, as it had caused his more -powerful friends to declare for him. -</p> - -<p> -Meanwhile, though he thus "vaunted aloud," he was acting with consummate -prudence and caution. His object was to gain time. He wished to remain -inactive till he had gathered together a sufficient number of troops to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">{Pg 268}</a></span> -insure success. He was at one time thwarted in this purpose by two -Spanish captains in his pay, whom he had summoned to Imola; who, -fancying that a good opportunity presented itself of attacking the -enemy, had themselves been vanquished and put to flight. Borgia kept -this disaster as secret as possible; he expected troops from France and -Switzerland, and gathered together all the <i>broken-off lances</i> in the -country. A lance was a term used to signify a mounted cavalier with five -or six followers; and the condottiere formed a greater or less number of -lances into a troop. But often single cavaliers with their followers -broke off from the band to which they belonged, and were thence called -<i>Lande Spezzate.</i> -</p> - -<p> -Besides these more evident methods of defending himself, Borgia hoped -that dissention might be introduced among the confederates; that he -should be able to entice away a portion, and then, by policy and -artifice, bring them to terms. His hopes were not deceived. About the -middle of October, Paolo Orsino sent to say, that if the duke would send -a hostage in pledge for his safety, he would repair to Imola. Caesar -eagerly seized on this opening for negotiation; cardinal Borgia was put -into the hands of the confederates, and Paolo Orsino arrived at Imola on -the 25th of October. Machiavelli watched with intense interest the -progress of this visit, and the subsequent proceedings. "No military -movement is made on either side," he writes to the signoria of Florence, -"and these treaties for reconciliation benefit the duke, who readily -entertains them; but I cannot judge with what intentions." He goes on to -state the difficulties that must stand in the way of the renewing of -amity; "so that," he continues, "I do not find any one who can guess how -the reconciliation can be effected. Some people think that the duke will -entice away a part of the confederates; and when they no longer hold -together, he will cease to fear them. I incline to this opinion, having -heard him let fall words that have this tendency to his ministers. Yet -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">{Pg 269}</a></span> -it is difficult to believe that so recent a confederacy can be broken -up." -</p> - -<p> -Borgia took great pains to preserve Machiavelli's prepossession in -favour of his good fortune and success. He pressed him to bring his -government to decisive measures in his favour. He caused his ministers -to urge those topics which would come more gracefully through a third -person. These men besieged the secretary's ear with confidential advice. -They assured him that Florence was losing an admirable opportunity for -securing the duke's friendship; they represented what a fortunate, -high-spirited man he was, accustomed to success, and despising his -present dangers. Machiavelli sent minute details of these conversations -to his government, addings "Your lordships hear the words which the duke -uses, and, knowing who it is that speaks, you will draw conclusions with -your accustomed prudence." On another occasion he recounts a long -conversation he held with Borgia, who showed him letters received from -France, which assured him of the friendship of its powerful monarch. "I -have often told you," Cæsar continued, "and again I say, that I shall -not be without assistance. The French cavalry and the Swiss infantry -will soon arrive, and the pope will supply me with money. I do not wish -to boast, nor to say more than that it is probable that my enemies will -repent their perfidy. As to your masters, I cannot be more satisfied -with them than I am; so that you may offer them on my part all that it -is in my power to do. When you first came, I spoke in general terms, -because my affairs were in so bad a condition that I did not know on -what ground I stood, and I did not wish your government to think that -danger made me a large promiser. But now that I fear less, I promise -more; and when my fears are quite at an end, deeds shall be added to my -words, when there is call for them." -</p> - -<p> -"Your lordships," continues Machiavelli, hear the duke's words, of which -I do not put down one half; and, knowing the manner of man, can judge -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">{Pg 270}</a></span> -accordingly. Since I have been here, nothing but good has happened to -him; which has been caused by the certainty that every one feels that -the king of France will help him with troops, and the pope with money." -</p> - -<p> -Machiavelli was evidently filled with high admiration of Borgia's -talents, and won by his persuasive manners. There is abundant proof, -however, that he did not possess his confidence. He was perpetually -soliciting to be recalled:—"For the time is past," he writes, "for -temporising, and a man of more authority than I is needed to conclude -this treaty. My own affairs are also in the greatest disorder, nor can I -remain here without money." The Florentine government thought otherwise; -they determined to await the development of events before they -concluded any treaty. -</p> - -<p> -These were hastening onwards to a catastrophe. Borgia by this time had -collected a considerable force together of French, Swiss, and Italians; -but he was willing to overcome his adversaries by other arts than those -of war. The confederates, from weakness or fear, or by force of Borgia's -persuasive eloquence, were won to agree to a treaty of reconciliation. -After some parley, it was signed early in the month of November: the -terms consisted principally of renewed professions of perpetual peace, -concord, and union; with a remission and forgetfulness of injuries; the -duke promising a sincere renewal of friendship, and the confederates -pledging themselves to defend the duke. He was to continue to them their -engagements as condottieri, and they were to assist him to recover the -duchy of Urbino. It was agreed that one only of the confederates at a -time should be called on to remain in the duke's camp, and in his power; -but they promised to deliver to him their children and near relatives as -hostages, whenever they should be demanded. Such is a sketch of a treaty -which dissolved a confederacy so formidable to Borgia, and placed him, -without drawing a sword, in a position as favourable as when his enemies -first assembled at Magione. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">{Pg 271}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -Machiavelli could not be deceived by this apparent reconciliation; and -he was eager to discover Borgia's secret views. Far from being consulted -concerning his plans, he now found it very difficult to obtain an -audience:—"For," he writes, "they live here only for their own good, -and for that which appears to them to contribute to it. Paolo Orsini -arrived yesterday, bringing the articles ratified and subscribed by -Vitellozzo and all the other confederates; and he endeavours, as well as -he can, to persuade the duke, that they all mean to be faithful, and to -undertake any enterprise for him. The duke appears satisfied. Vitellozzo -also writes grateful and submissive letters, excusing himself and making -offers; and saying, that if he had an opportunity to speak to him, he -could fully justify himself, and show that what he had done was without -any intention of injuring him. The duke listens to all; and what he -means to do no one knows, for it is very difficult to penetrate him. -Judging by his words and those of his chief ministers, it is impossible -not to expect evil for others, for the injury done him has been great; -and his conversation, and that of those around him, is full of -indignation against Vitellozzo.<a name="NoteRef_117_1" id="NoteRef_117_1"></a><a href="#Note_117_1" class="fnanchor">[117]</a> One spoke to me yesterday, who is -the man nearest the duke, saying, 'This traitor has stabbed us, and now -thinks to heal the wound with words, but children might laugh at the -articles of this treaty.'" -</p> - -<p> -The treaty being ratified, it was debated what action the duke should -put the captains upon. After a good deal of discussion, it was agreed -that they should go against Sinigaglia, a town belonging to the duke of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">{Pg 272}</a></span> -Urbino. While this enterprise was under consideration, Borgia left -Imola. Machiavelli writes, on the 10th of December, "The duke left this -place this morning, and is gone to Forli with his whole army. To-morrow -evening he will be at Cesena; but it is not known what he will do after -that; nor is there any one here who fancies that he can guess. I shall -set out to-morrow, and follow the court—unwillingly, because I am not -well; and, in addition to my indisposition, I have received from your -lordships fifty ducats, and I have spent seventy-two, having only seven -left in my purse. But I must obey necessity." -</p> - -<p> -On the 14th of December, Machiavelli writes, from Cesena, "As I before -wrote, every one is in suspense with regard to the duke's intentions, -who is here with all his forces. After many conjectures, they conclude -that he means to get possession of the persons of those who have so -deeply injured, and nearly deprived him of his dominions: and although -the treaty he has made contradicts this notion, yet his past actions -render it probable; and I am of this opinion from what I have heard and -reported in my letters. We shall see what will happen; and I will do my -duty in acquainting you with all that passes while I remain here: which -cannot be long; for, in the first place, I have only four ducats left in -my purse; and in the second, my further stay is of no utility. To speak -to your lordships with the truth which I have always practised, it would -be better if you sent a person of more reputation to treat of your affairs: -I am not fit, as they need a more eloquent man—one more known, -and who knows the world better than I." It would seem as if Machiavelli -tremblingly foresaw the tragedy at hand, and wished to withdraw; in -fear, perhaps, of being used as an instrument by Borgia, or suspected of -any participation in his crimes. -</p> - -<p> -On the 23d of December, he reports that the duke had suddenly dismissed -all his French troops. He had requested an audience, to discover the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">{Pg 273}</a></span> -cause of this movement; but received only an evasive answer,—that the -duke would send for him when he wanted him. It soon became evident that -the ease with which the confederates fell into Borgia's snares, rendered -useless the armed force he had gathered together for their destruction; -and he dismissed an army, the maintaining of which might excite -suspicion. -</p> - -<p> -Again Machiavelli writes, from Cesena, on the 26th of December, "I have -not been able to obtain an audience of the duke, his excellency being -engaged in reviewing his infantry, and in his pleasures, preparatory to -Christmas. As I have before repeated, this prince is most secret; nor do -I believe that any one except himself is aware of what he is going to -do. His principal secretaries have assured me that he never communicates -any thing till the moment of execution; and he executes on the instant: -so I hope you will not accuse me of negligence, in not being able to -tell any thing; as I know nothing myself." -</p> - -<p> -The catastrophe was now at hand. The captains sent Borgia word that they -had taken Sinigaglia, but that the fortress still held out; nor would -the castellan deliver the keys to any but the duke in person; and they -advised him, therefore, to come to receive them. Thus invited by the -captains themselves, Borgia thought it an excellent opportunity to -approach them without exciting suspicion. With great art he persuaded -Vitelli and Paolo Orsino to wait for him at Sinigaglia, saying that -their suspicion and timidity would render their reconciliation unstable -and short-lived. Vitellozzo felt how unsafe it was, first to injure a -prince, and then to put trust in him: but he was over-persuaded to -remain by Orsino, whom the duke had corrupted by promises and gifts. -Borgia left Fano on the 30th of December, and on the following day -repaired to Sinigaglia; and on the evening of the last day of that -month. Machiavelli wrote a short note to his government from that town, -containing these words only:—"I wrote, the day before yesterday, from -Pesaro, all I had heard concerning Sinigaglia.<a name="NoteRef_118_1" id="NoteRef_118_1"></a><a href="#Note_118_1" class="fnanchor">[118]</a> I removed yesterday -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">{Pg 274}</a></span> -to Fano. Early this morning, the duke departed with all his troops, and -came here to Sinigaglia, where were assembled all the Orsini and -Vitellozzo, who had taken the town for him. He invited them to come -around him; and, the moment he entered the town, he turned to his guard, -and caused them to be taken prisoners. Thus he has secured them all, and -the town is being pillaged. It is now twenty-three o'clock.<a name="NoteRef_119_1" id="NoteRef_119_1"></a><a href="#Note_119_1" class="fnanchor">[119]</a> I am in -the greatest anxiety, not knowing how to forward this letter, as there -is no one to take it. I will write at length in another. In my opinion, -they will not be alive to-morrow. All their people are also taken; and -the official notice distributed about, says that the traitors are -arrested." -</p> - -<p> -In another place. Machiavelli gives the details of the mode in which -these men were deluded into trusting themselves in the hands of one so -notorious for perfidy and sanguinary revenge.<a name="NoteRef_120_1" id="NoteRef_120_1"></a><a href="#Note_120_1" class="fnanchor">[120]</a> "On the 30th of -December," he says, "on setting out from Fano, the duke communicated his -design to eight of his most faithful followers. He committed to their -care, that, when Vitellozzo, Paolo Orsino, the duke of Gravina, and -Oliverotto da Fermo should advance to meet him, two of his friends -should take one of them between them; and that they should thus continue -to guard them till they reached the house where the duke was to lodge. -He then stationed his troops so as to be near enough to support him, -without exciting suspicion. The confederates, meanwhile, to afford room -for the soldiery which Borgia brought with him, had caused their own to -retire to various castles six miles distant, Oliverotto alone retaining -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">{Pg 275}</a></span> -his hand of 1000 foot and 150 horse. Every thing being thus arranged, -Borgia proceeded to Sinigaglia. Vitellozzo, Paolo Orsino, and the duke -of Gravina came out to meet him, mounted on mules, and accompanied by a -few followers on horseback. Vitellozzo was unarmed; and his desponding -countenance seemed prophetic of his approaching death. It was said that -he took, as it were, a last leave of his friends when he left the town; -recommending the fortunes of his family to the chief among them, and -bidding his nephews bear in mind the virtues of their race. These three -were received cordially by the duke, and immediately taken in charge, as -had been arranged. Perceiving that Oliverotto da Fermo was not among -them—he having remained with his troop to receive Borgia in the -market-place—he signed to one of his followers to devise some means -to prevent his escape. This man went instantly to Oliverotto, and advised -him to order his men to repair to quarters immediately, otherwise their -lodgings would be occupied by the band accompanying the duke. Oliverotto -listened to the sinister counsel, and, unaccompanied, joined Borgia and -the rest on their entrance into the town. As soon as they arrived at the -duke's palace, the signal was given, and they were made prisoners." -Machiavelli's anticipations were fulfilled nearly to the letter. -Vitellozzo and Oliverotto were strangled in prison the same night. Paolo -Orsino and the duke of Gravina were kept alive till Borgia heard that -the pope had seized on the persons of the other chiefs of the Orsini -family; when, on the 18th of the January following, they were also -strangled in prison. -</p> - -<p> -On the very day of the execution of this treacherous and cruel act of -revenge. Machiavelli had an audience with its perpetrator. He writes, -"The duke sent for me at the second hour of night<a name="NoteRef_121_1" id="NoteRef_121_1"></a><a href="#Note_121_1" class="fnanchor">[121]</a>, and with a most -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">{Pg 276}</a></span> -cheerful countenance congratulated himself and me on his success, saying -that he had alluded to it to me the day before, but not fully explained -himself: which is true. He added many prudent and very affectionate -expressions concerning our city; alleging all those reasons which made -him desire your friendship, if you entertain the same feelings towards -him; all of which filled me with exceeding surprise. He concluded by -bidding me write three things to you. First, that I should congratulate -you on his having put to death the enemies alike of the king of France, -you, and himself, and destroyed every seed of dissention which had -threatened to ruin Italy; for which you ought to be obliged to him. -Secondly, he begged me to entreat you to make manifest to the world that -you were his friends, and to send forward some troops to assist his -attack on Castello or Perugia." -</p> - -<p> -On the 8th of January, Machiavelli uses expressions in his letter most -characteristic of Italian policy and morals at that period. "It excites -surprise here," he writes, "that you should not have written nor sent to -congratulate the duke on the deed which he has lately executed, which -redounds to your advantage, and on account of which our city ought to -feel grateful; they say that it would have cost the republic 200,000 -ducats to get rid of Vitellozzo and the Orsini, and even then it would -not have been so completely done as by the duke. It is doubtful what his -success will be at Perugia: as, on one side, we find a prince gifted -with unparalleled good fortune, and a sanguine spirit, more than human, -to accomplish all his desires; and, on the other hand, a man of extreme -prudence, governing a state with great reputation." The secretary adds, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">{Pg 277}</a></span> -with praiseworthy diffidence, and considerable self-knowledge, "If I -form a false judgment, it arises not only from my inexperience, but also -from my views being confined to what is going on here, on which I am led -to form the opinions I have expressed above." -</p> - -<p> -The republic now thought it time to replace Machiavelli by an ambassador -of more authority; and the secretary returned to Florence at the end of -the month of January. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1503.</span></p> - -<p> -It is evident from this detail, taken from Machiavelli's own letters, -that he was not intrusted with the secret of a prince, who, he says, -never revealed his purposes to any one before the moment of execution. -Yet it is also plain that, at last, he began to suspect the tragedy in -preparation; and that neither the anticipation nor the fulfilment -inspired him with abhorrence for the murderer; while his contempt of the -confederates, and admiration of the talents and success of their -destroyer, is every where apparent: nor was this a short-lived feeling. -Without mentioning the "Prince," in which this act of Borgia is alluded -to with praise, he is mentioned with approbation in several of his -private letters. He wrote "A Description of the Method used by the -Valentian Duke in putting to death Vitellozzo Vitelli, &c." This is -purely narrative, and contains no word of comment or censure. There is -besides a poem of his, entitled "The Decenal," in which he proposes to -relate the sufferings of Italy during ten years: in this he mentions the -crime of Borgia. "After the duke of Valence," he says, "had exculpated -himself to the king of France, he returned to Romagna, with the -intention of going against Bologna. It appears that Vitellozzo Vitelli -and Paolo Orsino resolved not to assist him; and these serpents, full of -venom, began to conspire together, and to tear him with their talons and -teeth. Borgia, ill able to defend himself, was obliged to take refuge -behind the shield of France; and to take his enemies by a snare, the -basilisk whistled softly, to allure them to his den. In a short time, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">{Pg 278}</a></span> -the traitor of Fermo, and Vitellozzo, and that Orsino who had been so -much his friend, fell readily into his toils; in which the Orsino -(<i>bear</i>) lost more than a paw; and Vitelli was shorn of the other horn -(<i>alluding to his brother's death at Florence as one horn</i>). Perugia -and Siena heard the boast of the hydra, and each tyrant fled before his -fury: nor could the cardinal Orsino escape the ruin of his unhappy -house, but died the victim of a thousand arts." -</p> - -<p> -It must be mentioned that, notwithstanding individual acts of ferocity -of which Cæsar Borgia was guilty, he was an equitable -sovereign—favouring the common people, and restraining the nobles in -their sanguinary quarrels and extortionate oppression. His subjects -were, therefore, much attached to him. There is an anecdote relating to -his system of government, narrated in the "Prince," which may be quoted -as exceedingly characteristic. It is one of the examples brought forward -by Machiavelli in his treatise, to show how a prince can prudently -consolidate his power in a newly acquired state. "When the duke had -taken Romagna, he found it governed by feeble lords, who had rather -robbed than corrupted their subjects, and sown discord rather than -preserved peace—so that this province was the prey of extortion, -lawlessness, and all other kind of oppression. He judged it necessary to -govern it strictly, and to reduce it to obedience and tranquillity. For -this purpose he set over it Ramiro d'Orco, a cruel and resolute man, to -whom he confided absolute power. He soon established order in the -province. The duke then judged that so despotic an authority might -become odious; and he set up a civil court in the middle of the -province, with an excellent president, at which each city had its -advocate. And because he knew that the former rigor had generated -hatred, to conciliate and win this people, he wished to prove that the -cruelties that had been practised did not emanate from him, but from the -severity of his minister; and seizing Ramiro, he caused him one morning -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">{Pg 279}</a></span> -to be placed on a scaffold in the market-place of Cesena, divided in -two, with a wooden block and bloody knife at his side. The horror of -which spectacle caused the people to remain for some time satisfied and -stupid." -</p> - -<p> -This act took place under the very eyes of Machiavelli, when he was at -Cesena with Borgia. He thus mentions it in his public -correspondence:—"Messer Ramiro was found this morning divided in two -in the market-place, where he yet is, and all the people can behold him. -The cause of his death is not well known, except that it seemed good to -the prince, who shows that he knows how to make and unmake men at will, -according to their merits." -</p> - -<p> -To us, who cannot sympathise with the high spirit and good fortune of -Borgia, it is consolatory to know that his triumph was short-lived, and -his ruin complete. It fell to Machiavelli to witness the last scene of -his expiring power, being sent on a legation to Rome at the time of his -downfall. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1503.</span></p> - -<p> -The duke of Valence was still enjoying the complete success of his -enterprises: courage and duplicity, united, rendered him victorious over -all his enemies. He was at Rome, carrying on a negotiation with the king -of France, which was to extend and secure his power, when suddenly, one -afternoon, the pope was brought back dead from a vineyard, whither he -had gone to recreate himself after the heats of the day; and Cæsar was -also brought back soon after, to all appearance dying. -<span class="sidenote1">Aug.<br /> -28.</span> -The story went that they were both poisoned, having drunk by mistake -some wine prepared by themselves for the destruction of one of their -guests.<a name="NoteRef_122_1" id="NoteRef_122_1"></a><a href="#Note_122_1" class="fnanchor">[122]</a> The pope's body was exposed in St. Peter's on the following -day, according to custom; it was swollen, discoloured, and frightfully -disfigured. Cæsar's youth, and the speedy use he had made of an -antidote, saved his life; but he remained for a long time in a state of -great suffering and illness. He told Machiavelli, about this time, that -he had foreseen and provided against every reverse of fortune that could -possibly befall him, except his father dying at a time when he should -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">{Pg 280}</a></span> -himself be disabled by disease. He could now enter but ineffectually -into the intrigues necessary to ensure the election of a pope favourable -to himself. Indeed, the death of Alexander was so sudden, that none of -the persons interested found time to exert their resources; and a -cardinal was raised to the pontifical throne, whose sole merit consisted -in his great age and decrepitude. Francesco Picolomini, nephew of Pius -II., was proclaimed pope on the 22d of September, under the name of Pius -III. -</p> - -<p> -He did not deceive the hopes of the cardinals;—he reigned -twenty-eight days only; and his death, which occurred on the 18th of -October, left the throne again vacant. The cardinals, during this interval, -had prepared their measures, and looked forward to a greater struggle and -more important choice. -<span class="sidenote2">1503.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -34.</span> -The government of Florence thought it right to send an envoy, on this -occasion, to watch over its interests, and to influence consultations -which would be held concerning the future destination of Borgia. He had -already lost the greater part of his conquests: Piombino and Urbino -revolted to their former lords; and nothing remained to him but Romagna, -whose inhabitants he had attached by the firm system of government -before mentioned. The nobles, however, who had formerly governed its -various towns, were trying to regain possession of them; and Venice eyed -it as an easy prey. The popes believed, that by right, it belonged to -them; and Borgia had reigned over it as vassal to the church: this clash -of interests led him to believe that he could induce any future pope to -side with him. The neighbourhood of the cities in question to Tuscany, -rendered it imperative to Florence to watch over their fate. -</p> - -<p> -Machiavelli was sent by them just before the cardinals entered into -conclave—where, without hesitation or a dissentient voice, they -elected Julian da Rovera, cardinal of San Pietro in Vincola, who assumed -the name of Julius II. This prelate had been all his life at open enmity -with Alexander VI.: his disposition was ambitious, restless, fiery, and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">{Pg 281}</a></span> -obstinate; and during the struggles against the papal power in which he -had been engaged all his life, he had offended many, and excited the -hatred of a number of powerful persons. Above all, it was to be supposed -that Cæsar Borgia would oppose him; and he exercised great influence -over the Spanish cardinals. But the duke had to contend with much -adversity, so that he had but a choice of evils before him. During this -interval, even Romagna had fallen from him, with the exception of its -fortresses, of which he possessed the keys. Julian da Rovera made him -large promises; and in an age when duplicity flourished far and wide, he -had been celebrated for his veracity and good faith; even his old enemy, -Alexander VI., declared that the cardinal di San Pietro in Vincola was -sincere and trusty. -</p> - -<p> -As soon as the new pope was elected, it was projected to send Borgia -with an army to Romagna, to conquer it in the name of the holy see. -Machiavelli had frequent interviews with the fallen prince at this time, -and appears to have thrown off that admiration which his success and -spirit had formerly inspired; and he testifies no sympathy or regret in -his misfortunes. Borgia complained of the little friendship shown him by -Florence; and declared that he would relinquish every other hope, for -the sake of attacking and ruining the republic. The secretary reports -his angry expressions to his government, and adds the words of cardinal -d'Amboise, who exclaimed that "God, who never left any crime unpunished, -would not let this man escape with impunity!" -</p> - -<p> -The career of this bad hero was now drawing to a close. In the month of -November, he set out in the middle of the night for Ostia, to the great -satisfaction of all Rome, for the purpose of embarking for Spezia, with -a troop of five hundred men, and then of proceeding to Romagna. But the -pope, who had hitherto given no mark of an intention to break his -promises, suddenly determined to violate that good faith which had -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">{Pg 282}</a></span> -formerly adorned his character, and sent the Tuscan cardinal of Volterra -(who was of course Borgia's hitter enemy) after him, to demand an order -to the officers who held the castles in Romagna, that they should be -given into the pope's hands. Borgia refused to comply with a requisition -which deprived him of the last remnant of his power; on which he was -arrested and placed on hoard a French galley. "It is not yet known," -Machiavelli writes to his government on the 26th of November, "whether -the duke is still on hoard the vessel, or brought here. Various things -are reported. One person told me that, being yesterday evening in the -pope's chamber, two men arrived from Ostia, when he was immediately -dismissed; but, while in the next room, he overheard these men say that -the duke had been thrown into the Tiber, as the pope had commanded.<a name="NoteRef_123_1" id="NoteRef_123_1"></a><a href="#Note_123_1" class="fnanchor">[123]</a> -I do not quite believe in this story, but I do not deny it; and, I dare -say, if it has not already happened, it will happen. The pope, it is -evident, is beginning to pay his debts honourably, and cancels them with -a stroke of his pen. Every one, however, blesses this deed; and the more -he does of the like, the more popular will he be. Since the duke is -taken, whether he be alive or dead, no account need be made of him. -Nevertheless, when I hear any thing certain, you shall have -intelligence." -</p> - -<p> -The pope, however, had not yet learnt wholly to despise the force of -promises and oaths. Borgia was brought back to the Vatican, and treated -honourably. It was supposed at one time that he would be proceeded -against legally: and Machiavelli several times pressed his government to -send him the papers necessary to institute any accusation on their part. -At length, the duke gave the order to his castellans to surrender the -fortresses in question to the pope, and was set at liberty. He instantly -repaired to Naples, possessed of nothing more than a sum of money which -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">{Pg 283}</a></span> -he had deposited with the Genoese bankers, but happy in having recovered -his personal freedom. His ambitious mind quickly conceived new schemes; -and he tried to persuade the Spanish general at Naples, Consalvo, to -assist him in his project of throwing himself into Pisa, and of -defending it against Florence. Consalvo listened and temporised, till he -received the directions of his sovereign, which he immediately obeyed. -In conformity with these, Borgia was arrested and sent on board a -galley, which conveyed him to Spain. On his arrival, he was confined in -the fortress of Medina del Campo, there to remain during his life. He -continued a prisoner, however, for two years only. In 1506, with great -audacity and labour, he let himself down from the castle by a rope, and -fled to the court of John king of Navarre, who was his wife's brother; -where he lived for some years in a humble state, the king of France -having confiscated his duchy of Valence, and forbidding him to enter -France. Finally, having gone out with the forces of the king of Navarre -to attack Viana, an insignificant castle of that kingdom, he was -surprised by an ambush, and killed. -</p> - -<p> -We have anticipated a little, to conclude the history of this man, who -figures so prominently in Machiavelli's writings, and now return to the -secretary himself. We have not space to dilate with the same minuteness -on his succeeding embassies; and there is nothing in them of peculiar -interest. His letters are always full of keen observation; and show him -to have been sagacious, faithful, and diligent. The republic kept him -actively employed; and the end of one legation was the beginning of -another. -<span class="sidenote1">1504.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -35.</span> -He left Rome, after Borgia's arrest, in December; and, in the January -following, went to France, to ask the protection of Louis against the -dangers which Florence imagined to threaten them from the Spanish army -at Naples. -<span class="sidenote2">1505.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -36.</span> -A peace, concluded between France and Spain, dissipated these -fears; and the secretary, after a month's residence at Lyons, returned -to his own country. After this, he was sent on four insignificant missions -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">{Pg 284}</a></span> -to Piombino, Perugia, Mantua, and Siena. His next employment was to -raise troops in the Florentine territories. -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1506.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -37.</span></p> - -<p> -Machiavelli was too clear-sighted and well-judging, not to perceive the -various and great evils that resulted from the republic engaging -condottieri to fight its battles. He endeavoured to impress upon the -signoria the advantages that would arise from the formation of a native -militia; and, at length, succeeded. A law was passed for the enrolling -the peasantry, and he was charged with the execution. His proceedings -were conducted with patience and industry: his letters contain accounts -of the obstacles he met from the prejudices of the people with whom he -had to deal, the pains he took to obviate them, and the care he was at -to select recruits who might be depended on. -</p> - -<p> -Pope Julius, at this time, had conceived the project of reducing to -obedience to the holy see all those towns which he considered as -rightfully belonging to it. He obtained promises of aid from France; -demanded it from Florence; and then set out on an expedition against -Giovanni Bentivoglio, lord of Bologna. The Florentines were anxious, -from economical motives, to defer sending their quota as long as they -could; and they delegated their secretary to the court militant of Rome, -to make excuses, and to watch over the progress of its arms. Machiavelli -joined the court at Cività Castellana, and proceeded with it to Viterbo, -Perugia, Urbino, and Imola. -<span class="sidenote2">1506.</span> -His letters during this legation are highly interesting; presenting a -lively picture of the violence and impetuosity of Julius II., whose -resolute and intelligent countenance Raphael has depicted on canvas in -so masterly a manner. When Bentivoglio sent ambassadors to him, he -actually scolded them—addressing them in public, and using, as the -secretary says, the most angry and venomous expressions. Machiavelli -adds: "Every one believes that, if he succeeds with regard to Bologna, -he will lose no time in attempting greater things; and it is hoped that -Italy will be preserved from him who attempted to devour it (meaning the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">{Pg 285}</a></span> -king of France).—Now, or never." Bentivoglio made some preparations -to fortify Bologna; but, on the arrival of troops from France in aid of his -enemy, his heart failed him and he entered into a treaty, by which he -preserved his private property; and then, with his wife and children, he -abandoned the city he had so long reigned over, and took refuge in the -duchy of Milan. -</p> - -<p> -It was apprehended, at this time, that the emperor Maximilian would -enter Italy with an army; and its various states sent ambassadors to -him, to make favourable terms. The emperor had applied to Florence for -money; and the republic sent Francesco Vettori to treat concerning the -sum. -<span class="sidenote1">1507.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -38.</span> -They afterwards sent Machiavelli with their ultimatum. Both ambassador -and secretary remained some time at Trent, waiting on the imperial -court. -<span class="sidenote1">1508.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -39.</span> -Machiavelli employed himself in making observations on the state -of the country, which he reduced to writing, in a brief "Account of -Germany," on his return. -He had before drawn up a similar account of the state of France. -</p> - -<p> -The favourite object of Florence continued to be the reduction of Pisa. -They purchased permission to attack it, from the kings of France and -Spain, for a large sum of money. -<span class="sidenote1">1509.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -40.</span> -They besieged the town, dividing their army into three divisions, which -blockaded it on three sides. The camps were each commanded by -commissaries; and Machiavelli was sent thither to advise with and assist -them. He passed from one camp to the other, to watch over the execution -of the measures concerted for the siege; and, at one time, went to -Piombino, to meet some deputies from Pisa, to arrange a treaty; but it -came to nothing, and he returned to the army. He was much trusted by his -government; and one of the commissaries, in writing to the signoria, -observes, "Niccolò Machiavelli left us to-day, to review the troops of -the other camp. I have directed him to return here, as you order; and I -wish for nothing so much as to have him with me." -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">{Pg 286}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -After a blockade of three months, Pisa surrendered. The Florentine -republic behaved with the greatest generosity and humanity, and kept -terms faithfully with a people who had injured them deeply, and were now -wholly at their mercy. -</p> - -<p> -Late in the same year, Machiavelli was employed to convey to Mantua the -money composing a part of the subsidy of Florence to the emperor. After -having discharged this office, he was ordered to repair to Verona, "or," -as his instructions say, "wherever it seems best, to learn and -communicate intelligence of the actual state of affairs. You will -diligently write us word of every thing that happens worthy of notice, -changing the place of your abode each day." That part of Italy was, at -that time, the seat of a cruel and destructive war carried on between -the emperor and the republic of Venice. -</p> - -<p> -There existed a great spirit of enmity between Louis XII. and the pope. -Julius II. was a violent and implacable man: his former suspicions -against the French monarch were changed into excessive hatred. He was -animated, also, by the desire of acquiring the glory of liberating Italy -from the barbarians.<a name="NoteRef_124_1" id="NoteRef_124_1"></a><a href="#Note_124_1" class="fnanchor">[124]</a> He sent troops against Genoa, which belonged -to the king; Florence had been unable to refuse a safe passage for them -through their territory: at the same time, fearing that this concession -had offended Louis, they despatched Machiavelli to make their excuses. -<span class="sidenote2">June,<br /> -1510.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -41.</span> -His letters, during this mission, disclose a curious system of bribery -with regard to the ministers of the king. Cardinal d'Amboise had always -shown himself friendly towards the republic; but this friendship had -been purchased by gold. He died a month before the arrival of the -secretary, who writes thus to the signoria:—"I had a long -conversation with Alessandro Nasi concerning the donations, that I might -understand how I ought to regulate myself with regard to them. He promised -the chancellor Robertet and the marshal Chaumont d'Amboise to pay what is -due to them, during the ensuing month of August. He told me, that he did -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">{Pg 287}</a></span> -not think that the 10,000 ducats, which were sent here for the cardinal -d'Amboise, and which were not paid, on account of his death, could be -saved for the city, except in one way; which was, by distributing them -between the chancellor and marshal, as a portion of what is due to -them." -</p> - -<p> -He had an audience with the king at Blois. There was no Florentine -ambassador at this time at the French court; Machiavelli was merely an -envoy, with his title of secretary: the king, therefore, treated him -with little ceremony; but he received him kindly, declaring his belief -in the friendship of Florence, but desiring some further proof of it. -"Secretary," he said, "I am not at enmity with the pope, nor any one -else; but as new friendships and enmities arise each day, I wish your -government to declare at once what they will do in my favour: and do you -write word to them, that I offer all the forces of this kingdom, and to -come in person, to save their state, if necessary."<a name="NoteRef_125_1" id="NoteRef_125_1"></a><a href="#Note_125_1" class="fnanchor">[125]</a> -</p> - -<p> -It was a difficult part for Florence, between France their ancient ally, -and the stern vindictive pope. Some time before, during their -difficulties, the republic had in some degree changed their form of -government, and elected a gonfaloniere or doge for life, instead of -changing every year; their choice had fallen on Pietro Soderini, a man -of integrity, but feeble and timid. The king of France, pushed to the -utmost by the pope, determined to call together a council, to dethrone -him. Florence offered him the city of Pisa, for it to be held; and then, -terrified by the menaces of Julius II., sent Machiavelli to Louis, to -endeavour to recall this offer, but in vain. -<span class="sidenote1">1511.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -42.</span> -The council met, and the secretary was sent to attend upon it; it came -to nothing, however. Only four cardinals met, they were ill treated by -the people, discountenanced by the Italian clergy, and dissatisfied with -themselves: after holding two sessions at Pisa, they transferred -themselves to Milan. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">{Pg 288}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -The result of this open attack of Louis upon the power of the pope -animated the latter to renewed endeavours to expel the king from Italy: -he formed a league with Spain and Venice against the French power, and a -disastrous war was the consequence. -<span class="sidenote2">1512.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -43.</span> -At one time the French obtained a victory at Ravenna, which was -detrimental to them, since Gaston de Foix and 10,000 of their -bravest soldiers were left on the field of battle. Florence remained -neuter during this struggle, but the republic was accused of a -secret partiality for France, and its punishment was resolved upon -at the diet of Mantua. -</p> - -<p> -The Medici family still hovered round Florence, desirous of reinstating -themselves in their ancient seats, and of reassuming the power enjoyed -by their forefathers. Piero de' Medici had fallen in the battle of the -Gariglano, some years before; he left a son named Lorenzo, and a -daughter, Clarice. His brother the cardinal Giovanni had, while he -perceived his cause hopeless, quitted Italy, and visited many parts of -France and Germany, nor returned to Rome till the elevation of Julius -II.: from that time he took an important part in the public affairs of -Italy, and was appointed legate during the war. His influence was -exerted during the diet of Mantua, and the punishment of Florence was -decreed to consist in the overthrow of the existing government, and the -restoration of the Medici. The details of the expedition of the allies -against the republic are related by Machiavelli in a private letter, -which, though highly interesting, is too long to extract.<a name="NoteRef_126_1" id="NoteRef_126_1"></a><a href="#Note_126_1" class="fnanchor">[126]</a> The -gonfaloniere Soderini exerted some energy at the commencement of the -struggle, but was unable to hold out long. The army, under the command -of the viceroy of Naples, entered Tuscany, and taking Prato by assault, -massacred its inhabitants without respect for age or sex. The -Florentines were alarmed by this cruelty, and resolved to submit. -Soderini and his partisans quitted the city and repaired to Siena, and -the Medici entered Florence. The cardinal was at their head, accompanied -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">{Pg 289}</a></span> -by his younger brother Giuliano, his nephew Lorenzo, son of Piero, and -his cousin Julius de' Medici, descended from the brother of Cosmo. -</p> - -<p> -Thus fell a government which Machiavelli had served faithfully for -fourteen years. His labours had been great during this period, the -honours he enjoyed of no conspicuous nature, and his emoluments were -very slender. When on his various missions, he was allowed only a -trifling addition to his salary as secretary, which frequently was not -commensurate to his increased expenditure, and afforded no room for -luxury or display. "It is true," he writes to the signoria from Verona, -"that I spend more than the ducat a day that you allow me for my -expenses; nevertheless, now, as heretofore, I shall be satisfied with -whatever you please to give." There was nothing mercenary in -Machiavelli's disposition, and he seems perfectly content with -continuing in the office he enjoyed, without rising higher. He went on -his legations always in the character of envoy, at such times when the -republic thought it best to treat by means of a delegate less costly and -of less authority than an ambassador. Thus his letters often ask to be -replaced by a minister entrusted with more extensive powers. Evidently, -throughout his active career, he had the good of his country only at -heart. He was steady, faithful, and industrious: he recommended himself -to the powers to whom he was sent by his intelligence and his want, of -pretension. Up to the moment of Soderini's exile, he acted for the -Gonfaloniere and his council. His last office was to gather the militia -together, for the purpose of checking the advance of the viceroy through -the passages of the Apennines. He was too late, and his forces were too -scanty; for Pietro Soderini, timid and temporising, did not give credit -to the extent of danger that menaced him till the last moment. His fear -of appearing ambitious, and making himself obnoxious to his fellow -citizens, prevented him from taking those resolute measures necessary -for his safety: but Machiavelli continued faithful to him, till the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">{Pg 290}</a></span> -moment he quitted the city. Then he turned his eyes to the new -government and the Medici, who, though introduced under had auspices, -showed no disposition to tyrannise over their fellow-citizens. He was -poor, and had a large family; and, though a lover of liberty, was not -personally attached to the fallen Gonfaloniere. The forms of government -continued the same, and he was still secretary to the Council of Ten. He -desired and expected to continue in office, and to exercise functions, -which could not be otherwise than beneficial to his country. -</p> - -<p> -His hopes were deceived: he was considered by the Medici as too firm an -adherent of the adverse party. He was deprived of his place, and -sentenced not to quit for one year the territory of the republic, nor to -enter the palace of government. But this was not the end, it was only -the beginning, of his disasters. Shortly after, the enemies of the -Medici conspired against them: the conspiracy was discovered, and two of -the chief among them were beheaded. Machiavelli was supposed to be -implicated in the plot: he was thrown into prison, and put to the -torture. No confession could be extorted from him, and it is possible -that he was entirely innocent of the alleged crime. He was soon after -comprised in the act of amnesty published by the new pope. On the death -of Julius II., cardinal de' Medici was elevated to the pontifical -throne; he assumed the name of Leo X., and signalised his exaltation by -this act of clemency. On his liberation Machiavelli wrote to his friend -Francesco Vettori, the Florentine ambassador at the papal court, who had -exerted himself in his favour, in these terms:—"You have heard from -Paolo Vettori that I am come out of prison, to the universal joy of this -city. I will not relate the long story of my misfortunes; and will only -say, that fate has done her utmost to bring them about; but, thank God, -they are at an end. I hope to be safe for the future, partly because I -intend to be more cautious, and partly because the times are more -liberal and less suspicious." -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">{Pg 291}</a></span> -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1513.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -44.</span></p> - -<p> -Francesco Vettori, on hearing of his liberation, had already written, -and their letters crossed on the road. "Honoured friend," he wrote, "I -have suffered greater grief during these last eight months than I ever -endured during the course of my whole life before: but the worst was -when I knew that you were arrested, as I feared that, without cause or -fault of yours, you would be put to the torture, as was really the case. -I am sorry that I could not assist you, as you had a right to expect; -but as soon as the pope was created, I asked him no favour except your -liberation, which I am glad to find had already taken place. And now, -dear friend, I have to entreat you to take heart during this -persecution, as you have done on other occasions: and I hope, as things -are now tranquil, and their (<i>the Medici</i>) good fortune transcends all -imagination, that you will soon he permitted to quit Tuscany. If I -remain here, I wish you would come to me, for as long a time as you -like." -</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;">"Rome, 15th of March, 1513.</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Machiavelli replies:— -</p> - -<p> -"Your very kind letter has made me forget my past disasters; and -although I was convinced of the affection you bore me, yet your letter -delighted me. I thank you heartily, and pray God that I may be able to -show my gratitude to your advantage. You may derive this pleasure from -my misfortunes, that I think well of myself for the courage with which I -bore them, so that I feel myself of more value than I before gave myself -credit for: and if my masters, the magnificent Giuliano and your Paolo, -to whom I owe my life, will raise me from the earth, I think they will -hereafter have cause to congratulate themselves. If they will not, I -shall live as I have done before; for I was born poor, and I learnt to -suffer before I learnt to enjoy. If you remain at Rome, I will spend -some time with you, as you advise. All our friends salute you. Every day -we assemble at some lady's house, so to recover our strength. Yesterday -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">{Pg 292}</a></span> -we went to see the procession in the house of Sandra di Pero, and thus -we pass our time during this universal rejoicing, enjoying the remnant -of life, which appears to me like a dream. Valete. -</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;">"Florence, 18th of March, 1513.</p> - -<p> -From this time till the end of his life we possess a series of -Machiavelli's private correspondence, of the most valuable kind. His -chief friend was Vettori, who continued to reside as ambassador at Rome. -Some of their letters are long political discussions, which Vettori drew -Machiavelli in to write, that he might show them to pope Leo X., and -excite him to admire and employ his talents. His endeavours were without -success. Machiavelli continued for many years to live in obscurity, -sometimes at Florence, sometimes at his country-house at San Casciano, a -bathing town among the hills, south of Pisa. His letters from Florence -contain the gossip of their acquaintance,—amusing anecdotes that -paint the manners, while they give us no exalted idea of the morals, of the -Italians of those days. Machiavelli himself had no poetry nor delicacy -of imagination: his feelings were impetuous, and his active mind -required some passion or pursuit to fill it. He bitterly laments the -inaction of his life, and expresses an ardent desire to be employed. -Meanwhile, he created occupation for himself; and it is one of the -lessons that we may derive from becoming acquainted with the feelings -and actions of celebrated men, to learn that this very period, during -which Machiavelli repined at the neglect of his contemporaries, and the -tranquillity of his life, was that during which his fame took root, and -which brought his name down to us. He occupied his leisure in writing -those works which have occasioned his immortality. No one would have -searched the Florentine archives for his public correspondence, acute -and instructive as it is, nor would his private letters now lie before -us, if he had not established a name through his other writings. He -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">{Pg 293}</a></span> -wrote them to bring himself into present notice, and to show the Medici -the worth of that man whom they dishonoured and neglected. -</p> - -<p> -One of his letters from the country to Vettori, is so interesting, and -so necessary to the appreciation of his character, that we give it at -length:— -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Tarde non furon mai grazie divine.</i> Divine favours never come too -late. I say this, because it seemed to me that I had, not lost, but -mislaid your kindness, you having remained so long without writing to -me, that I wondered what might be the cause. Your last of the 23d -dissipated my doubts, and I am delighted to find how quietly and -regularly you fulfil your office. I advise you to go on thus; for -whosoever neglects his own affairs for those of others, injures himself -and gets no thanks. As fortune chooses to dispose of our lives, let her -alone. Do not exert yourself, but wait till she urges other men to do -something, when it will be time for you to come forward, and for me to -say. Here I am. I cannot thank you in any way except by giving you an -account of my life here; and you may see whether it is worth exchanging -for yours. -</p> - -<p> -"I remain at my country house; and since the last events I have not -spent in all twenty days in Florence. I have hitherto been killing -thrushes. Rising before daylight I prepared my snares, and set off with -a bundle of cages at my back, so that I resembled Geta, when he returns -from the harbour with Amphytrion's books. I took two or at most seven -thrushes each day.<a name="NoteRef_127_1" id="NoteRef_127_1"></a><a href="#Note_127_1" class="fnanchor">[127]</a> Thus passed September, since when, to my great -annoyance, this diversion has failed me; and my life has been such as I -will now detail. I rise with the sun, and go to a wood of mine, which I -am cutting; where I remain a couple of hours, reviewing the work of the -past day, and talking with the woodcutters, who are always in trouble -either for themselves or their neighbours. I have a thousand -entertaining things to tell you, which have happened with regard to this -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">{Pg 294}</a></span> -wood<a name="NoteRef_128_1" id="NoteRef_128_1"></a><a href="#Note_128_1" class="fnanchor">[128]</a>, between me and Fresino da Panzaro and others, who wanted to -buy some of the wood. Frosino sent for several loads without saying a -word to me; and on payment wanted to keep back ten livres, which he says -he ought to have had from me four years ago, having won it at play, at -the house of Antonio Guicciardini. I began to play the devil, and to -accuse the carrier of cheating, on which G. Machiavelli interfered, and -brought us to agree. When the north wind blew, Battista Guicciardini, -Filippo Ginori, Tommaso del Bene, and several other citizens took a -load. I promised some to all, and sent one to Tommaso, half of which -went to Florence, because he and his wife and children were there to -receive it. So, seeing I gained nothing by it, I told the others that I -had no more wood, which made them all very angry, especially Battista, -who numbers this among other state troubles. When I leave the wood I go -to a fountain, where I watch my bird nets with a book in hand; either -Dante or Petrarch, or one of the minor Latin poets—Tibullus, Ovid, or -one similar. I read the accounts of their loves; I think of my own, and -for a while enjoy these thoughts. Then I go to the inn on the road side; -I talk with the passers by; ask the news of their villages; I hear many -things, and remark on the various tastes and fancies of men. Meanwhile -the hour of dinner arrives, and I dine with my family on such food as my -poor house and slight patrimony afford. When I have dined, I return to -the inn; where I usually find the host, a butcher, a miller, and two -kiln men: with these I associate for the rest of the day, playing at -cricca and tric-trac. We have a thousand squabbles; angry words are -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">{Pg 295}</a></span> -used, often about a farthing, and we wrangle so loudly, that you might -hear us at San Casciano. Immersed in this vulgarity, I exhaust my -spirits, and give free course to my evil fortune; letting her tread me -thus under foot, with the hope that she will at last become ashamed of -herself. -</p> - -<p> -"When evening comes I return home, and shut myself up in my study. -Before I make my appearance in it, I take off my rustic garb, soiled -with mud and dirt, and put on a dress adapted for courts or cities. Thus -fitly habited I enter the antique resorts of the ancients; where, being -kindly received, I feed on that food which alone is mine, and for which -I was born. For an interval of four hours I feel no annoyance; I forget -every grief, I neither fear poverty nor death, but am totally immersed. -As Dante says, 'No one learns a science unless he remembers what he is -taught;' so have I noted down that store of knowledge which I have -collected from this conversation; and have composed a little work on -princely governments, in which I analyse the subject as deeply as I can, -discussing what a principality is; how many kinds there are; in what way -they are acquired; how kept; how lost: and if any devise of mine ever -pleased you, this will not be displeasing. It ought to be acceptable to -princes, and chiefly to a new prince, wherefore I address it to Giuliano -de' Medici. Filippo Casavecchia has seen it, and can describe the thing -to you, and recount the discussions we have had together about it. I am -still adding to and polishing it. -</p> - -<p> -"Your excellency desires that I should leave this place to go and enjoy -myself with you. I will do so assuredly; but am detained by some -affairs, which will keep me here about seven weeks. The only thing that -causes me to hesitate is, that the Soderini are in your town; and I -should be obliged to see and visit them; and I should be afraid on my -return that, instead of alighting at my own door, I should alight at the -gates of the prison; because, although our person here (<i>Giuliano de' -Medici</i>) has secure foundation, and is fixed, yet he is new and -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">{Pg 296}</a></span> -suspicious; and there are not wanting meddling fellows, like Paolo -Bertini, who would draw upon others and leave me all the trouble. -Preserve me from this fear, and I will certainly come to you. -</p> - -<p> -"I have talked with Philip concerning my little work, whether I shall -dedicate it or not; and if I do, whether I shall present it myself, or -send it to you. If I do not dedicate it, I fear that Giuliano will not -even read it, but that Ardinghelli will get the honour of it. Necessity -drives me to present it, for I pine away, and cannot remain long thus -without becoming despicable through poverty. I wish these signori Medici -would begin to make use of me, even if I commenced by rolling a stone, -for if I did not afterwards gain their favour I should despise myself. -And, therefore, if this book were read, they would see that, for the -fifteen years during which I studied the arts of government, I neither -slept nor played; and every one ought to be glad to make use of one who -has learned experience at the expense of others. Nor need they doubt my -fidelity; for having proved myself trustworthy hitherto, I would not -alter now: he who has been faithful for forty-three years, as I have, -cannot change his nature; and my poverty is a witness of my honour and -disinterestedness. -</p> - -<p> -"I wish you would tell me what you think on these matters, and so -farewell.—<i>Si felix.</i> -</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 60%;">"NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI.</p> - -<p>"10th of December, 1513."</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The expressions in this letter appear sufficiently clear, that he wrote -"The Prince," for the purpose of recommending himself to the Medici, and -of being employed by them. His sons afterwards declared to our -countryman, cardinal Pole, that he alleged, his intention to be, to -induce the Medici to render themselves so hateful to Florence, by acting -on the maxims he laid down, as to cause them to be exiled anew. There is -no trace of this idea in his private correspondence. Giuliano de' Medici -was an amiable prince, and he often praises him highly. It is true that -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">{Pg 297}</a></span> -his work is dedicated to Lorenzo de' Medici; but this change was -occasioned by the death of Giuliano. And even of Lorenzo, who was -unpopular. Machiavelli writes thus to Vettori:—"I must give you some -account of the proceedings of the Magnifico Lorenzo, which have hitherto -been such as to fill the city with hope; so that every one begins to see -his grandfather revived in him. He is diligent and affable, and causes -himself to be loved and respected, rather than feared." Nor can it be -believed that Machiavelli was so devoid of understanding, as to fancy -that he could dupe men as intelligent as Leo X. and cardinal Julius, who -were the heads of the family, by so barefaced an artifice. Besides that, -the authority of the Medici was maintained by foreign arms, and the -citizens were already very willing to get rid of them, as was proved a -very few years after. Yet his real intentions form a question, perhaps, -never to be decided. On one hand, the treatise is so broad and -unplausible in its recommendations, that it is difficult to suppose him -in earnest; and, on the other, it is so dry, and has in so small a -degree the air of irony, that it can scarcely be regarded as a satire. -If it is, it is ill done, since men have not yet agreed whether it is -one or not. -</p> - -<p> -Let us turn to the work itself, however, and present some analysis of a -treatise which has been the subject of so much disquisition. Machiavelli, -in the letter given above, professes to have written his book for the -instruction of new princes,—<i>principi nuovi</i>,—sovereigns -lately raised to power. Italy was then divided into small states, -governed by a variety of lords. Sometimes one among them endeavoured, -like Cæsar Borgia, to conquer a number of these, and to unite them into -one state. Machiavelli taught how a prince thus situated might acquire -and confirm his power. He adduces the example of the Duke of Valence, -saying, "He does not know how to give better precepts to a new sovereign -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">{Pg 298}</a></span> -than those afforded by a view of Borgia's conduct."<a name="NoteRef_129_1" id="NoteRef_129_1"></a><a href="#Note_129_1" class="fnanchor">[129]</a> He describes -the course of his policy, applauds the perfidy with which he destroyed -the confederates of Magione, and holds up the death of Ramiro d' Oreo as -a laudable proceeding. He allows, that perseverance in cruelty on the -part of a prince becomes unendurable. "And, therefore," he says, "a -prince should determine to execute all his acts of blood at once, so -that he may not be obliged each day to renew them; but give security to -his subjects, and gain them by benefits. Injuries ought to be done at -once, because thus they are less felt, and offend less; but benefits -ought to be bestowed gradually, that they may produce a profounder -impression." -</p> - -<p> -The reader may judge whether this maxim is sagacious, and seriously -enjoined; or mischievous, and therefore brought forward with sinister -and sarcastic motives. -</p> - -<p> -The first fourteen chapters are taken up by considering the various -modes by which a prince acquires power—either by force of arms, or -the favour of the citizens; being imposed on them by the aristocracy, or -raised by the affection of the people. In the course of these -considerations he remarks (chap, V.), that "he who becomes master of a -city habituated to freedom, and does not destroy it, must expect to be -destroyed by it; because it will, in every rebellion, take refuge in the -name of liberty and its ancient rights, the memory of which can never be -extinguished by time or benefits." The fifteenth chapter is -headed,—"Concerning those things for which men, and principally -sovereigns are praised or blamed." He begins by saying,—"It now -remains to be seen what government and treatment a prince ought to observe -with his subjects and friends. I know many people have written on this -topic; and I expect, therefore, to be accused of presumption, in differing -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">{Pg 299}</a></span> -from the opinions of others in my view of the subject. But, it being my -intention to write what is useful to those who rule, it appears to me -better to follow up the truth of things, than to bring forward imaginary -ideas." He adds, "A man who, instead of acting for the best, acts as he -ought, seeks rather his ruin than his preservation. For he who resolves -on all occasions to adhere to what is virtuous, must be destroyed by the -many who are not virtuous. Hence it is necessary that a prince, who -would maintain his power, should learn not to be virtuous, but to adapt -the morality of his actions to the dictates of necessity." He then -enumerates the good and bad qualities for which sovereigns are -distinguished, and adds:—"I know that every one will confess that it -would he laudable for a prince to possess all the above-mentioned -qualities, which are considered virtuous; but human nature does not -allow of this. It is necessary, however, that he should be prudent, and -avoid the infamy of those vices which would deprive him of power; and it -would be well if he avoided the others also, if it were possible; but if -it be not possible, he may yield to them with less danger. And also he -must not hesitate to incur the reputation of those vices, through which -his government may be preserved; for, on deep consideration, it will be -found that there is a line of conduct which appears right, but which -leads to ruin: and there is another which appears vicious, but from -which security and prosperity flow." -</p> - -<p> -And this is what is called Machiavelian policy. -</p> - -<p> -He goes on to show, that generosity, which is supported by extortion, -must injure a prince more than parsimony, which makes no demands on the -subject; he therefore advises a prince to gain a character for -liberality, rather by being prodigal of the wealth of others than his -own. "For," he says, "nothing consumes itself so much as liberality; for -while you use it, you lose your power of so doing, and you become poor -and despicable; or, to escape from poverty, grow rapacious and odious. A -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">{Pg 300}</a></span> -prince ought carefully to guard against becoming odious and -contemptible: and liberality is one of the good qualities most likely to -lead to this result, and therefore to be avoided." -</p> - -<p> -He then treats of "Cruelty and clemency, and whether it is better to be -feared or loved." He says;—"Every sovereign ought to desire to be -esteemed merciful, and not cruel. Nevertheless, he ought to take care to -what use he puts his mercy. Cæsar Borgia was considered cruel; -nevertheless his cruelty subdued Romagna, and united it, and reduced it -to peace and obedience. A prince, therefore, ought not to fear the -reputation of cruelty, if by it he preserves his subjects tranquil and -faithful. A few examples will be more merciful than tolerating -disorders, through a compassion, which gives rise to assassinations and -disturbances; for these injure the community, while the execution of -offenders is injurious to individuals only." He then enters on a -discussion of whether it is better for a prince to be loved or feared. -He decides for the latter; for, he says, "Love is a duty, which, as men -are wicked, is continually transgressed; but fear arises from the dread -of punishment, which is never lost sight of." Nothing can be more false -than this. Men like to be benefited even more than they dislike being -injured; and love is a more universal passion than terror. He continues, -"Still a prince, while he seeks to be feared, must avoid being -hated—for fear is very distinct from hatred. And he ought always to -avoid seizing on the goods of his subjects. He may, as far as is -justified by the cause given, proceed against the life of an individual; -but let him not touch the possessions. For men more easily forget the -death of a father than the loss of patrimony." After stating this -diabolical and false maxim in all its native deformity, he proceeds to -consider the propriety of a sovereign's preserving his good faith: -remarking, that though good faith and integrity are praiseworthy in a -prince, experience in his own time shows those statesmen to have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">{Pg 301}</a></span> -achieved the greatest things, who held truth in small esteem:—"For -there are two ways of acting,—one by law and the other by force; the -one for men, the other for animals; but when the first does not succeed, -it is necessary to have recourse to the second; and a sovereign ought to -know how to put the animal man to good use. A prudent prince cannot and -ought not to observe faith, when such observance would injure him, or -the occasions for which he pledged himself are at an end. A sovereign, -therefore, need not possess all the virtues I have mentioned; but it is -necessary that he should appear so to do. A prince cannot always -practise the qualities which are esteemed good, being often obliged to -maintain his power by acting against the dictates of humanity and -religion. He must act conscientiously when he can; but when obliged, he -ought to be capable of doing ill. A prince ought to take great care not -to say a word that is not animated by good feeling, and he ought to -appear full of pity, integrity, humanity, and religion; and there is -nothing so necessary as that he should appear to attend to the last. -Every one sees what you seem; few know what you are." Very false, -notwithstanding its plausibility: children even have an instinct for -detecting false appearances. -</p> - -<p> -He tells princes to cherish the affections of the people; as, he says, -if loved by his subjects, he need fear no conspiracy; but, hated by -them, he has every thing to dread. He avers, also, that it is easier for -a newly raised prince to make friends of those who opposed him, than to -preserve the good will of his own partisans. He goes on to give much -advice concerning the choice of ministers and courtiers, and concerning -the influence of fortune over states; and shows how concord and -constancy are the only modes by which a government can preserve itself -during the variations of fortune; and that, above all, it is necessary -not to submit timidly, but to command her by audacity and resolution. -</p> - -<p> -He concludes by an exhortation to the Italians to drive the barbarians, -French, Spaniards, and Germans, from their country. "It appears to me," -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">{Pg 302}</a></span> -he says, "considering all things, that there is an admirable opening for -a new prince to introduce another state of things into Italy. Does not -the whole land pray God to send her some one to free her from the -barbarians? And is she not ready to follow any banner, if some one -prince would display it? Nor do we see any house from which she can hope -so much as yours (<i>that of Lorenzo de' Medici</i>) favoured as it is by -God and the church; being at the head of which, it may lead us to this -redemption. The justice of your cause is great, and the war will be -just, and necessary, and pious. God, also, has opened the way for you. -The Italians, however, must accustom themselves to the exercise of arms, -if they would defend their country from foreign invaders. The infantry -of other kingdoms have their defects: the Spaniards cannot stand the -impetus of cavalry; the Swiss would fear any infantry which should show -itself as strong as themselves. Let the Italians, therefore, form an -army of foot that shall possess none of these defects, and which shall -be able to resist the shock of both horse and foot; and this must be -done by a novel style of command, by introducing which, a new ruler will -acquire reputation and power. You ought not, therefore, to lose this -opportunity of appearing as the deliverer of Italy. I cannot express -with what affection such a one would be received in those provinces -which have suffered from the inundation of foreign troops; with what -thirst of vengeance, what resolute fidelity; with what piety, and what -grateful tears he would be followed. What gates would be shut against -him? what people would refuse to render him obedience? what Italian -would hesitate to submit to his rule? Every one abhors the authority of -the barbarians. Let, therefore, your illustrious house assume this -enterprise, animated by that hope which a just cause inspires, so that -your country may rise triumphant under your auspices." -</p> - -<p> -There is nothing that is not patriotic and praiseworthy in these -exhortations; and they were such, moreover, as were likely to gain the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">{Pg 303}</a></span> -hearts of the Italians. If, therefore, he is previously sarcastic, he is -serious here; and the mixture renders still more enigmatic the question -of the aim he had in view in this work. -</p> - -<p> -Besides "The Prince," Machiavelli wrote, at this time, his "Essays on -the first Decade of Livy." These are considered by their author as his -best work; an opinion confirmed by the learned Italians of the present -day. They breathe a purely republican spirit, and have for their scope -to demonstrate how the greatness of Rome resulted from the equal laws of -the commonwealth, and the martial character of its citizens. He -dedicated them to his friends Zanobi Buondelmonte, and Cosimo Rucellai, -who were the patrons of the academy of the Rucellai gardens, a society -set on foot by the father of Cosimo, for the support of the Platonic -philosophy, and whose youthful followers were all devoted to liberty. -</p> - -<p> -"The Art of War" was also written at this time, as well as his two -comedies, his "Belfegor," and "Life of Castruccio Castracani." The -"Belfegor" has laid him open to the supposition that he was not happy in -his married life: but there is no foundation for this notion. He was, -early in life, married to Marietta Corsini, and had five children. He -always mentions his wife with affection and respect in his letters, and -gives tokens, in his will, of the perfect confidence he reposed in her. -"Belfegor" has always been a popular tale: it is written with great -spirit, and possesses the merit of novelty and wit. His comedies are -thought highly of by the Italians. The "Mandragola," licentious as it -is, was a great favourite. Leo X. caused the actors and scenic -decorations to be brought from Florence to Rome, that he might see it -represented; and Guicciardini invited the author to come to get it up at -Modena, and tells him to bring with him a favourite singer and actress, -named La Barbara, to give it more effect: so early in Italian history do -we find mention of prime donne, and of the court paid to them. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">{Pg 304}</a></span> -</p> - -<p> -But all this diligent authorship did not satisfy the active mind of -Machiavelli: he tried to school himself to content, and says, in one of -his letters to Vettori, "I am arrived at not desiring any thing again -with passion." But this was a deceit which he practised on himself. "If -I saw you," he writes again to his friend, "I should fill your head with -castles in the air; because fortune has so arranged, that, not being -able to discourse concerning the silk trade, nor the woollen trade, nor -of gains nor losses, I must talk of the art of government."—"While I -read and re-read your disquisitions on politics, I forget my adversity, -and appear to have entered again on those public affairs, in prosecuting -which I vainly endured so much fatigue, and spent so much time." -</p> - -<p> -The endeavours of Vettori, who was attached to the Medici, to gain -favour for his friend with Leo X., were long ineffectual; and -Machiavelli showed symptoms of despair. -<span class="sidenote2">1514.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -45.</span> -"It seems," he writes, "that I am to continue in my hole, without -finding a man who will remember my services, or believe that I can be -good for any thing. It is impossible that I can remain long thus. I pine -away; and see that, if God will not be more favourable to me, I shall be -obliged to leave my home, and become secretary to some petty officer, if -I can do nothing else; or exile myself into some desert to teach -children to read. I shall feign that I am dead; and my family will get -on much better without me; as I am the cause of expense—being -accustomed to spend, and unable to do otherwise. I do not write this to -induce you to take trouble for my sake; but to ease my mind, so as not -to recur again to so odious a subject." -</p> - -<p> -Yet all his letters are not complaining. The spirit of "Belfegor" and -"La Mandragola" animates many of them. "We are now grave," he writes, -"and now frivolous; but we ought not to be blamed for this variety, as -in it we imitate nature, which is full of change." -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote2">1519.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -50.</span></p> - -<p> -The first use to which the Medici put him, was when Leo X. had placed -the cardinal Julius over Florence, and washed to remodel the government. -He addressed himself to Machiavelli for his advice; and the latter -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">{Pg 305}</a></span> -wrote, in reply, his "Essay on the Reform of the Government of Florence, -Written at the request of Leo X." Soon after Leo died, and the cardinal -Julius expected to have been elected pope. He was disappointed, and -returned to Florence to confirm his authority. The death of Leo awakened -the hopes of the opposite party; and a conspiracy was at this juncture -entered into by the nephew of the gonfaloniere Soderini and the young -philosophers of the Rucellai, to expel the Medici. It was discovered; -two ringleaders were put to death, and the rest fled. -</p> - -<p> -Sismondi hastily assumes the fact, that Machiavelli was implicated in -this plot; but, on the contrary, there seems every proof that he took no -part in it whatever; and at this very time he was again employed by the -reigning powers. -<span class="sidenote1">1521.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -52.</span> -The Minor Friars were assembled in chapter at Carpi, in the duchy of -Modena. The government of Florence wished to obtain from them, that -their republic should be formed by their order, into a distinct -province, separated from the rest of Tuscany. At the instance of -cardinal Julius, Machiavelli was charged with this negotiation. A few -days after his arrival at Carpi, the council of the company of the -woollen trade commissioned him to procure a good preacher for the -metropolitan church at Florence, during the ensuing Lent. His letters to -his employers, on these occasions, are as serious and methodical as -during any other legation; but in his heart he disdained the petty -occupation. His friend Francesco Guicciardini, the celebrated historian, -was then governor of Modena; and several amusing letters passed between -them while Machiavelli was at Carpi. Guicciardini writes: "When I read -your titles of ambassador to republics and friars, and consider the -number of kings and princes with whom you have formerly negotiated, I am -reminded of Lysander, who, after so many victories, had the office of -distributing provisions to the army he had formerly commanded; and I say -that, though the aspects of men, and the exterior appearances of things, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">{Pg 306}</a></span> -are changed, the same circumstances perpetually return, and we witness -no event that did not take place in times gone by." -</p> - -<p> -Machiavelli replies with greater gaiety:—"I can tell you that, on the -arrival of your messenger, with a bow to the ground, and a declaration -that he was sent express and in haste, every one arose with so many bows -and so much clamour, that all things seemed turned topsy-turvy. Many -persons asked me the news; and I, to increase my importance, said that -the emperor was expected at Trent, that the Swiss were assembling a new -diet, and that the king of France was going to have an interview with -the king of England; so that all stood open-mouthed and cap in hand to -hear me. I am surrounded by a circle now, while writing, who, seeing me -occupied upon so long a letter, wonder and regard me as one possessed; -and I, to excite their surprise, pause now and then, and look very wise; -and they are deceived. If they knew what I was writing, their wonder -would in crease. Pray send one of your men again; and let him hurry, and -arrive in a heat, so that these people may be more and more astonished; -for thus you will do me honour, and the exercise will be good for the -horse at this season of the year. I would now write you a longer letter, -if I were willing to tire out my imagination; but I wish to preserve it -fresh for to-morrow. Remember me, and farewell. -</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 20%;">"Your servant,</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 60%;">"NICCOLÒ MACHIAVELLI,</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 50%;">"Ambassador to the Minor Friars.</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 10%;">"Carpi, 17th of May, 1521."</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -This letter, as well as well as one of Guicciardini's on this occasion, -has been mutilated by a person, whose scrupulous good taste was offended -by the tone of some of the pleasantries. That was not the age of decorum -either in speech or action. -<span class="sidenote2">1524.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -55.</span> -The cardinal Julius had commissioned Machiavelli to write the history of -Florence, and he proceeded in it as far as the death of Lorenzo de' -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">{Pg 307}</a></span> -Medici. He writes to Guicciardini, on the 30th of August, 1524, "I am -staying in the country, occupied in writing my history; and I would give -fivepence—I will not say more—to have you here, that I might -show you where I am, as in certain particulars I wish to know whether you -would be offended most by my elevated or humble manner of treating them. I -try, nevertheless, to write so as, by telling the truth, to displease no -one." -</p> - -<p><span class="sidenote1">1526.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -57.</span></p> - -<p> -Cardinal Julius had now become pope, under the title of Clement VII. He -paid Machiavelli a regular but very limited salary as historiographer. -Having brought it down to the time of the death of Lorenzo de' Medici, -he made a volume of it, and dedicated it to the pope. On this occasion -he writes to Guicciardini, "I have received a gratification of 100 -ducats for my history. I am beginning again; and relieve myself by -blaming the princes who have done every thing they can to bring us to -this pass." He signs himself to this letter, Niccolò Machiavelli, -historian, comic and tragic author,—<i>storico, comico, et -tragico.</i> -</p> - -<p> -The condition of Italy was at this period most deplorable. The French -had been driven from Italy after the battle of Pavia; but no sooner was -that power humbled, than the various states began to regard with alarm -the ascendancy of the emperor Charles V. A confederacy was formed by the -chief among them, for the purpose of holding this powerful monarch in -check; and he sent the constable Bourbon to Milan to preserve that -duchy. Thus there were two armies in the heart of the peninsula, both -unpaid, both lawless, and destructive to friends as well as to enemies. -The emperor sent no supplies to Bourbon; and the pope, who was at the -head of the Italian league, showed himself so timid and vaccillating, -and, above all, so penurious, as to bring down ruin on his cause. -</p> - -<p> -Bourbon was unable to keep his troops together, except by promises of -plunder; and he led them southward by slow advances, with the intention -of enriching them by the sack of Florence or Rome. The danger was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">{Pg 308}</a></span> -nearest to the former city; and Clement VII. considered it requisite to -put it in a state of defence. Machiavelli was employed to inspect the -progress of the fortifications. He executed his task diligently, and, as -was his wont, put his whole heart and soul into his occupation. "My head -is so full of bulwarks," he says, "that nothing else will enter it." -</p> - -<p> -The imperial army continued to advance; and the Florentine government, -in great alarm, sent Machiavelli to Guicciardini, governor of Modena, -and lieutenant-general of the papal forces, to take measures with regard -to the best method of securing the republic; and it was agreed that, if -the imperialists advanced, the forces of the church should be sent in -aid of Florence. The winter season and other circumstances delayed the -operations of the imperialists, but early in the following spring the -danger grew imminent. -<span class="sidenote2">1527.<br /> -Ætat.<br /> -58.</span> -Bourbon had arrived with his army to the vicinity of Bologna; and there -was every likelihood that his army would traverse Tuscany, and attack -Florence itself. Machiavelli again went to Parma, to advise with -Guicciardini, to watch over the movements of the hostile army, and to -send frequent intelligence to Florence of their proceedings. The -republic wished that the troops of the Italian league should assemble at -Bologna, and be on the spot to guard the frontiers of Tuscany. -</p> - -<p> -The imperialists continued to advance: the pope, alarmed by their -progress, entered into a treaty for peace with the emperor; but it was -uncertain whether the army under Bourbon would agree to it. Machiavelli -continued for some weeks at Parma, and then accompanied Guicciardini to -Bologna, watching their movements. It was doubtful what road they would -take on proceeding to Rome; but the chances still were, that they would -pass through Tuscany. The army now removed to Castel San Giovanni, ten -miles from Bologna, where they remained some days, detained by the bad -weather, and overflowing of the low lands, caused by the melting of the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">{Pg 309}</a></span> -snow, which had fallen heavily around Bologna: they were in danger, -while thus forced to delay, of being reduced to great straits for want -of provisions. "If this weather lasts two days longer," Machiavelli -wrote to his government, "the duke of Ferrara may, sleeping and sitting, -put an end to the war." -</p> - -<p> -A truce was concluded between Clement VII. and the ministers of Charles -V.; but it was not acceded to by Bourbon and his army. The pope, -however, unaware of this circumstance, dismissed his troops, and -remained wholly unguarded. The imperialists, rendered unanimous through -the effects of hunger and poverty, continued to advance. They entered -Tuscany; but, without staying to attack Florence, they hurried on by -forced marches and falling unexpectedly on Rome, took it by assault; and -that dreadful sack took place, which filled the city with death and -misery, and spread alarm throughout Italy. Machiavelli followed the -Italian army, as it advanced to deliver the pope, who was besieged in -the Castel Sant' Angelo. From the environs of Rome he repaired to -Cività Vecchia, where Andrea Doria commanded a fleet; and from him he -obtained the means of repairing by sea to Leghorn. Before embarking, he -received intelligence of the revolution of Florence. On hearing of the -taking of Rome, on the 6th of May, the republicans rose against the -Medici; and they were forced to quit the city. The government was -changed on the 16th of May, and things were restored to the state they -were in 1512. -</p> - -<p> -Machiavelli returned to Florence full of hope. He considered that the -power was now in the hands of his friends, and that he should again -enter on public life under prosperous auspices. His hopes were -disappointed—public feeling was against him: his previous services, -his imprisonment and torture, were forgotten; while it was remembered that, -since 1513, he had been continually aiming at getting employed by the -Medici, against whom the popular feeling was violently excited. He had -succeeded at last; and was actually in their service, when they were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">{Pg 310}</a></span> -driven from the city. These circumstances rendered him displeasing to -men who considered themselves the deliverers of their country. -Machiavelli was disappointed by their neglect, and deeply wounded by -their distrust. He fell ill; and taking some pills, to which he was in -the habit of having recourse when indisposed, he grew worse, and died -two days after—on the 22d of June, 1527—in the 59th year of his -age. -</p> - -<p> -Paul Jovius, his old enemy, insinuates that he took the medicine for the -sake of destroying himself,—a most clumsy sort of suicide,—but -there is no foundation whatever for this report.<a name="NoteRef_130_1" id="NoteRef_130_1"></a><a href="#Note_130_1" class="fnanchor">[130]</a> His wife Marietta, the -daughter of Ludovico Corsini, survived him; and he left five -children,—four sons and one daughter. He had made a will in 1511, -when secretary of the republic; and in 1522 he made another, which only -differs in details—the spirit is the same. He leaves his "beloved -wife" an addition to her dower, and divides the rest of his slight fortune -between his children. Marietta is left guardian and trustee of the younger -children—to continue till they were nineteen—with a clause -forbidding them to demand any account of money spent; and mentions that -he reposes entire confidence in her. -</p> - -<p> -Machiavelli was of middle stature, rather thin, and of olive complexion. -He was gay in conversation, obliging with his friends, and fond of the -arts. He had readiness of wit; and it is related of him, that, being -reproved for the maxims of his "Prince," he replied—"If I taught -princes how to tyrannise, I also taught the people how to destroy them." -He probably developes in these words, the secret of his writings. He was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">{Pg 311}</a></span> -willing to <i>teach</i> both parties, but his heart was with the -republicans. He was buried at the church of Santa Croce at Florence; and -soon after his death a violent sensation was created against his -works—principally through an attack on the "Prince," by our own -countryman, cardinal Pole. They were interdicted by successive popes, and -considered to contain principles subversive of religion and humanity. -</p> - -<p> -It was not till the lapse of more than two centuries that a re-action of -feeling took place—and the theory was brought forward, that he wrote -for the sake of inducing the Medici to render themselves odious to their -countrymen, so as to bring ruin and exile again on their house. In 1782, -the Florentines were induced by the representations of an English -nobleman, lord Cowper, to pay honour to their countryman, and set on -foot a complete edition of his works; which Leopold, grand duke of -Tuscany, permitted to be printed; and which was preceded by an eulogium -written by Baldelli. In 1787, a monument was erected over his remains, -on which was carved the following inscription:— -</p> - -<blockquote><p class="center"> -Tanto Nomini nullum par Elogium<br /> -NICOLAUS MACHIAVELLI.<br /> -Obiit Anno A. P. V. MDXXVII.<br /> -</p></blockquote> - -<p> -There remains no descendant of Machiavelli. His grandson, by his only -daughter. Giuliano Ricci, left several writings relative to his -illustrious ancestor, which are preserved in the archives of the Ricci -family. The branch of the Machiavelli, descending from the secretary, -terminated in Ippolita Machiavelli, married to Francesco de' Ricci in -1608. The other branch terminated in Francesco Maria, Marchese di Quinto -in the Vicentino, who died in Florence, 1726. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">{Pg 312}</a></span> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_111_1" id="Note_111_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_111_1"><span class="label">[111]</span></a>Baldelli.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_112_1" id="Note_112_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_112_1"><span class="label">[112]</span></a>Let. Fam. II.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_113_1" id="Note_113_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_113_1"><span class="label">[113]</span></a>Guicciardini.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_114_1" id="Note_114_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_114_1"><span class="label">[114]</span></a>Guicciardini.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_115_1" id="Note_115_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_115_1"><span class="label">[115]</span></a>Guicciardini.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_116_1" id="Note_116_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_116_1"><span class="label">[116]</span></a>Lettere di Machiavelli, Legazione al Duca Valentino.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_117_1" id="Note_117_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_117_1"><span class="label">[117]</span></a>It must be mentioned, that a great enmity subsisted -between the Florentines and Vitellozzo Vitelli. His brother, Paolo -Vitelli, had commanded the troops of the republic at one time before -Pisa, and was suspected by them of treachery. They sent for him one -night to come to Florence, and he obeyed without hesitation. On his -arrival he was seized, cast into prison, tortured, and, though no -confession could be extorted from him, he was put to death the same -night. It was the intention of the Florentine government to seize on -Vitellozzo also, but he escaped and took refuge in Pisa. Borgia had at -one time taken up the cause of the Medici, and threatened Florence: he -now threw the blame of this action upon the counsels of Vitellozzo.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_118_1" id="Note_118_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_118_1"><span class="label">[118]</span></a>This letter is lost; and we are thus deprived of a most -interesting link in the correspondence, and an insight into -Machiavelli's feelings. In it he detailed the half confidence that -Borgia at last reposed in him—when, at the moment of execution, there -was no longer any necessity for concealing his intentions.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_119_1" id="Note_119_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_119_1"><span class="label">[119]</span></a>Half an hour before sunset: in December, about half after -three o'clock.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_120_1" id="Note_120_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_120_1"><span class="label">[120]</span></a>"Account of the Mode in which the Valentian Duke -destroyed Vitellozzo Vitelli, Paolo Orsino, &c. &c."</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_121_1" id="Note_121_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_121_1"><span class="label">[121]</span></a>Two hours and a half after sunset. The Italian day of -twenty-four hours ends at dark, <i>i. e.</i> half an hour after sunset; and -then they begin one, two; but as they often say, one o'clock after noon, -two o'clock alter noon, so they designate these evening hours as hours -of night. This method of counting time is still practised by the common -people in Italy, south of the Apennines; and, indeed, by every one of -all ranks at Naples and Rome. Our mode of counting time is called by the -Italians, French time, as it was first introduced after the conquests of -Napoleon. It is often puzzling to hear of fourteen or fifteen -o'clock,—it is necessary to remember the season of the year, and the -hour of sunset, and how far that is off. On this occasion, the 31st of -December, the second hour of night was about half after six o'clock -P. M.; the sun setting at about four in December, in Italy.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_122_1" id="Note_122_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_122_1"><span class="label">[122]</span></a>Guicciardini.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_123_1" id="Note_123_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_123_1"><span class="label">[123]</span></a>There is something in the entrance of these "two -murderers," and their secret conference with the pope, that reminds one -of scenes in Shakspeare, which appear improbable in our days of ceremony -and exclusion.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_124_1" id="Note_124_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_124_1"><span class="label">[124]</span></a>Guicciardini.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_125_1" id="Note_125_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_125_1"><span class="label">[125]</span></a>One of Louis's expressions is curious:—"If the pope will -make any demonstration of friendship to me, though no bigger than the -black of my nail, I will respond by a yard." The black of the nail of -the king of France!</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_126_1" id="Note_126_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_126_1"><span class="label">[126]</span></a>Lettere Familiari, VIII.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_127_1" id="Note_127_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_127_1"><span class="label">[127]</span></a>Machiavelli's bird-catching need not excite surprise. It -is the common pastime of Italian nobles of the present day, to go out -with an owl for a decoy, to shoot larks, thrushes, &c.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_128_1" id="Note_128_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_128_1"><span class="label">[128]</span></a>Critics have given themselves the trouble to imagine and -explain a mysterious meaning here, and to suppose that Machiavelli's -wood is an allegory of the political labyrinth: but there is no -foundation for this idea. Machiavelli never recurred to allegory to -express his political opinions; and we have twenty letters of his to -Vettori, discussing the intentions and enterprises of the various -European princes, without any attempt at mystery or covert allusion. At -the same time we have also twenty letters full of anecdotes as -insignificant as those of the wood. He was fond of minute details, and -lively, though trifling, stories concerning himself and his friends.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_129_1" id="Note_129_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_129_1"><span class="label">[129]</span></a>When Leo X. formed a duchy, of which he made his nephew -Lorenzo duke, Machiavelli, in a private letter to Vettori, discusses the -government that he ought to adopt. In this letter he again adduces the -example of Cæsar Borgia, saying, that were he a new prince, he would -imitate all his proceedings. This of course only alludes to the civil -government of Romagna, which was equitable and popular.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Note_130_1" id="Note_130_1"></a><a href="#NoteRef_130_1"><span class="label">[130]</span></a>He had before recommended these pills to Guicciardini, -saying that he himself never took more than two at a time. They are -chiefly composed of aloes. There is a letter from his son Pietro to -Francesco Nelli, professor at Pisa, which relates concisely the manner -of his death:—</p> - -<p> -"Dearest Francesco,—I cannot refrain from tears on being obliged to -inform you of the death of our father Niccolò, which took place on the -22d of this month, of colic, produced by a medicine which he took on the -20th. He allowed himself to be confessed by Frate Matteo, who remained -with him till his death. Our father has left us in the greatest poverty, -as you know. When you return here, I will tell you many things by word -of mouth. I am in haste, and will say no more than farewell. -</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 50%;">"Your relation,</p> - -<p style="margin-left: 60%;">"PIETRO MACHIAVELLI."</p></div> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<h4>END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.</h4> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EMINENT LITERARY AND SCIENTIFIC MEN OF ITALY, SPAIN, AND PORTUGAL VOL. 1 (OF 3) ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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