Lives of the Italian poets

ITALIA-ESPANA

EX-LIBRIS
M. A. BUCHANAN

LIVES

OF

THE ITALIAl^ETS

BY THE

REV. HENRY STEBBING,

M.A. M.R.S-L.

WITH TWENTY MEDALLION PORTRAITS.

IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

LONDON:

EDWARD BULL, HOLLES STREET.
1831.

O

U Y

MASTER NEGATIVE NO.:

LONDON: PRINTED BY S. BENTIEY, DOKSET-ST11EET.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

BOIARDO ...... 3

SANNAZZARO 17

ARIOSTO .31

BEMBO ...... 93

VITTORIA COLONNA . . . .115

PIETRO ARETINO . . . . 131

BERNARDO TASSO . . . .183

GIOVAN-GIORGtO TRISSINO . . . 245

FRANCESCO BERN I . . . .297

LUIGI ALAMANNl . . . . 319

BATTISTA GUARINI 337

HTftt Htfe of

VOL. II.

THE lives of few of the Italian poets offer more
subjects for dispute than that of the Count Matteo
Maria Boiardo. It would, however, afford as little
instruction as amusement to the general reader to
lead him over the thorny field of such a contro-
versy, and it will be sufficient to state, that he
was of an ancient and noble family of Reggio,
which, in the fourteenth century, was divided into
several branches, and that his immediate ancestors
had enjoyed, for many generations, the Lordship
of Rubiera.* His birth is supposed by some writers
to have occurred in June, in the year 1430 ; the

* Giannandrea Barotti, Let. Ferraresi.
B 2

4 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

name of his father being Gasparo, and that of
his mother Cornelia degli Apj.* The laborious
and sceptical Barotti, however, asserts that he was
the son, not of Gasparo and Cornelia degli Apj,
but of Giovanni and Lucia Strozzi, sister of Tito
Strozzi, and that he was born about the year 1434.
The place of his nativity is also equally a matter
of doubt; Fratta, near Ferrara, have been gene-
rally allowed the honour, but Ferrara, Scandiano,
and Reggio all claim the same title to respect.

Little is known for certainty of the early years
of his life. According to most of his biographers,
he was the pupil of the celebrated Soccino Ben-
ci,f a Peripatetic and Platonic philosopher, and,
under his care, became skilled in the civil law, and
other liberal sciences. He also received instruc-
tion, it is said, in the Latin and Greek languages in
the school of Guarino Veronese, the resort of the
noblest men in Italy. The improvement which he
reaped from these advantages of study, was made
apparent in several compositions of considerable
merit, and his Latin and Italian verses, together
with some translations from the Greek classics,
obtained the favourable attention of Borso Duke
of Modena. By his learning and natural accom-

* Mazzuchelli. t Tiraboschi, Biblioteca Modenese.

BOIARDO. O

plishments he speedily became one of the most
popular men about the Court, and the princes of the
house of Este took him under their especial pro-
tection, and advanced him to the highest offices
of the State.

While acting as the Minister of Borso, he ac-
companied that Prince to Rome, when he went to
receive the investiture of the dukedom of Ferrara,
and the rose of gold from Pope Paul the Second.
Borso died the same year, (1471,) but Boiardo was
regarded by his son and successor, Hercules, with
equal affection, and, as his private Chamberlain,
enjoyed his confidence in the most important affairs
of government. It is also said, that, shortly after
his return from Rome to his fief of Scandiano, he
married Taddea Gonzaga de' Conti di Novellara,
who was received by his vassals with extraordinary
pomp and rejoicings.

When Hercules was preparing for his espousals
with the Duchess Eleanora of Arragon in 1472,
Boiardo was one of the nobles who were chosen to
conduct her to Ferrara ; besides which honourable
mission, he was appointed to undertake several
others to the courts of the most powerful princes
of Italy. As a reward for the faithful performance
of his charge, he is said to have been created a

LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

Cavalier about this period, and in 1478 he was
made Governor of Reggio, in which capacity he
presented the water with which the new Bishop,
Buonfrancesco Arlotti, bathed his hands on taking
possession of that diocese.*

In the year 1481 he is found distinguished in a
contemporary chronicle by the title of Captain,
which had been conferred upon him on his re-
moval from the command of Reggio to that of
Modena. While governor of that town, he took a
conspicuous part in the nuptials of the Count Ni-
colo Bangoni with Bianca, the sister of Leonora,
wife of Giberto Pio. Records remain to prove
that he continued in the government of Modena
till the year 1486 or 1487, but, in the following
year, he was again in the command of Reggio.

While enjoying the favour of his Prince, exer-
cising the functions of a courtier and soldier, and
sharing in all the gay and splendid pomps which
marked the life of a feudal Baron in those days,
Boiardo devoted his leisure time to the cultiva-
tion of literature. In order to pursue his studies
without interruption, he was accustomed to retire
on these occasions to his estate of Scandiano ; and,
among its wide and sylvan retreats, he composed,

* Mazzuchelli — Tiraboschi.

BOIARDO. /

it is said, the chief part of his poems. From the
scenery in its neighbourhood he is also supposed
to have drawn many of his fairest descriptions,
while the names of his feudatories furnished him
with appellations for his heroes — Gradasso, Man-
dricardo, Sacripante, and others.

According to the same popular but doubtful re-
port, it was while hunting in the woods of Fracasso,
a short distance from Scandiano, that he dis-
covered a name for his chief character. He had
been long, it is said, in vain endeavouring to in-
vent one which should be sufficiently sounding for
a hero of the highest prowess and valour. All
at once Rodomonte started into his mind, and,
instantly turning his horse's head towards Scan-
diano, he rode rapidly to the Castle, and ordered
all the bells to be rung in honour of Rodomonte,
filling his vassals, it is said, with astonishment, as
they had never heard before of such a saint.* As
he completed any portion of his poem, he was ac-
customed to repeat it for the amusement of Her-
cules and his courtiers ; and for the same purpose
he wrote his comedy called " Timone," formed
out of a dialogue of Lucian's, and composed in the
terza rima.

* Mazzuchelli.

8 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

After having long enjoyed the reputation of being
as great a scholar and poet, as he was a nobleman
distinguished for the highest qualities of birth and
disposition, he died at Reggio in December 1494,
or, as some authors have asserted, in the February
of the same year. The place of his burial has been
as much disputed as that of his birth, and the few
circumstances known of his life. The most credit-
able writers appear to consider it certain that he
was buried in the great church of Scandiano.* By
his wife Taddea Gonzaga he had two sons, Cam-
millo and Francesco Maria, and four daughters.
His younger son died while a child, but he was
succeeded in the fief of Scandiano by Cammillo.

Of the ladies, to whom his amatory poetry is
addressed, nothing is known, except that the name
of the one was Antonia Caprara, and that of
the other Rosa. According to the investigations
of the curious on this subject, there was a lady
of the name of Antonia Caprara, born at Reggio
in the year 1451 ; and if, it is said, this was the
identical Antonia whom Boiardo loved, she was
eighteen, and he thirty-five, when he declared his
passion.f But there are, on the other hand, so
many expressions in his verses which scarcely agree

* Tiraboschi. t Panizzi.

BOIARDO.

9

with this supposition, that to reconcile all opinions
on the question, he is allowed to have loved many
ladies, or, as it ought to be put, perhaps, to have
written love verses to many. It should not be for-
gotten however that, according to the calculation
above alluded to, he had loved the fair Antonia
about two years with great ardour, and had con-
tinued to address her with many passionate ex-
pressions to the very eve of his marriage with the
daughter of the Count of Novellara.

The details of Boiardo's life are few and un-
interesting. I have looked through a variety of
works in the hope of finding more extensive
materials for a memoir, and from the fear of suf-
fering any thing to escape which might be either
useful or interesting to the reader ; but my search
has been vain, and I am not a little gratified at
finding that my want of success has not been owing
to any neglect in research, but to the real absence
of materials ; the able and laborious scholar, Mr.
Panizzi, whose edition of the " Orlando Innamorato"
is just published, not having been able to discover
any thing further respecting his favourite author.

But the life of Boiardo has little to interest, not
only from the scantiness of the notices which re-
main respecting it, but, as it would seem, from its

10 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

actual want of variety or incident. He was, it is
true, occasionally engaged by his Prince on foreign
missions, and he took part in many a gay and chi-
valrous festival, but his time passed pleasantly on,
nothing occurring to awake any of those stronger
passions which mar the dreams of romance. Some-
times in Ferrara, and at others at Scandiano, he
shared his hours between the splendid amuse-
ments of a courtier, and the luxurious reveries of a
poet. The rank and fortune he possessed secured
him from the cares to which by far the greater
number of literary men are subject ; and, which was
still further conducive to the tranquillity of both
his mind and his life, he reaped the golden harvest
of fame as quickly as he sowed the seed. Unlike
most other writers, especially of long narrative
poems,. he had not to wait for years before he could
meet the encouraging smile of applause, or to la-
bour at correction, and then depend, when all is
finished, on the capricious humour of the public.
As soon as a Canto was composed, he took it with
him to Ferrara, and there in the presence of a
brilliant Court, of which every member, from the
Prince to the youngest page, was prepared to
applaud him, he recited his gay and charming
inventions.

BOIARDO. 11

But though the life of Boiardo is thus rendered
unimportant in the page of literary biography,
the case is very different if we consider his work,
and the influence it had on the poetry of Italy.
When his name is remembered as associated
with the first great romantic poem that favoured
land of the Muses produced, he has a claim upon
our respect, far inferior certainly to that which is
due to the sublime Dante, or the elegant and noble-
minded Petrarch, but sufficiently great to place
him above all preceding Italian poets, whether nar-
rative or otherwise.

Of the origin of romantic poetry this is not the
place to speak. The subject is an interesting one,
and has been treated of in a manner worthy of its
importance. The learning of many of the best
scholars, both in this and other countries, has been
unsparingly employed in tracing the legends and
other materials of romances to their source, and
success has in a considerable measure crowned
their labours. At the head of these erudite critics
we may justly place our own War ton, whose con-
clusions have for the most part been either followed
or confirmed by the greater number of subsequent
writers on the subject.

From the researches which have been thus car-

12 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

ried on with equal taste and diligence, it is proved
beyond a doubt that nearly all the traditions, out of
which so many beautiful fictions have been formed,
were founded on real or analogous circumstances.
We have thus a curious fact pressed upon our at-
tention, which is, that the poetry which appeals most
strongly to the imagination, which is the wildest
and most rarely attentive to the laws of probability,
draws its inspiration from the real history of the
world, and that thus the strictest epic and the
most fanciful romantic poems have a similar origin.
There was certainly as much general truth in the
records of Charlemagne and his mighty Paladins
as in those which preserved the memory of Aga-
memnon and Achilles. All poetry, indeed, which
can attract the attention of a people not highly
refined, must be either devotional or narrative, and
the latter will no more be listened to with interest
unless its foundation be recognised and known as
true, than the former would if addressed to a Deity
unknown in the popular creed. It is difference of
circumstances in the times when the poems are pro-
duced, which gives to one age or nation an epic,
and to another a romance. Had the Greeks been
less free, or less incline/! to politics when Homer
wrote, they would have had a romance ; and if

BOIARDO. 13

instead of composing for a feudal Prince and his
vassals, Boiardo had been writing for Florence, he
would either have written in the half-laughing strain
of Pulci, or attempted a narrative adapted to the
acute intellect of his readers, as well as their love
of heroic narrative — in other words, his work would
have been more an epic than a romance. Nor
ought it to be forgotten, indeed, that while he was
amusing the people of Ferrara and their nobles
with wild and sometimes extravagant legends,
Florence had learnt to understand and relish the
stern, sedate language of her Dante, of which the
foundation was severe satiric truth, and the orna-
ment and colouring only imaginative ; that there
also the classic Petrarch, and the clear tasteful
Boccaccio were the chief favourites of every class
of people, while Lorenzo de' Medici and his friends
had begun to make poetry the professed vehicle of
philosophy, and almost to enthrone the latter on
the hitherto opposed seat of the Muses. It is
seldom we find opportunities of comparing the
state or progress of literature in different provinces
of the same country ; but the* literary history of
Italy affords them in abundance, and is hence the
most interesting of any in the world, enabling us to
trace with no little degree of exactness, the in-

14 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

fluence of political circumstances on the intellec-
tual tastes and habits of the people, and furnishing
more materials for solving the great question re-
specting the connexion between certain forms of
government and species of literature than any
other whatever.

Boiardo's minor poems, chiefly on the subject of
his love, are written in a much more elegant and
polished style than his " Orlando Innamorato,"
which has been accounted for by the superior care
he took in the composition of the former, and the
circumstance that he died before he could put the
last hand to his larger work. Another reason might
be found, perhaps, in the different nature of the two
subjects. But it was not only as a poet that Boiardo
was distinguished among the writers of his age : he
was deeply learned in classical literature, and the
following list of his works will show that he was
not less erudite than many of the scholars who
graced the palace of the Medici. 1. Apuleio delF
Asino d' Oro, tradotto in Volgare. 2. L'Asino
d' Oro St. Luciano. 3. Erodoto Alicarnasseo Is-
torico, tradotto. 4. Chronicon Romanorum Impe-
ratorum a Carolo Magno usque ad Othonem IV.
5. Le Vite da Emilio Probo tradotte. 6. Carmen
Bucolicon. 7. II Timone. 8. Sonetti e una Canzone.
9. Cinque Capitoli. 10. Pastorali.

Etfe of

jAcopo SANNAZZARO was born at Naples on the
twenty-eighth or twenty-ninth of July 1458, and
was a descendant of the Sannazzari, a noble family
of Pavia, of whom Dante makes mention in his
Convivio. After, however, having enjoyed very
large possessions in the kingdom of Naples, it was
gradually stripped of the wealth acquired by the
valour of its different members, and the father of
our poet had only sufficient to support his family
in the most moderate style of respectability. He
lived but a few years after the birth of Jacopo,
whom he left, with another son, to the care of their
mother Masella, whose necessities obliged her to

18 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

remove immediately to Nocera de' Pagani. From
Giuniano Majo, a distinguished grammarian of
Naples, he derived his earliest acquaintance with
the Greek and Latin classics; and so great was his
master's expectation of the reputation he would
one day acquire by the talents he evinced, that
he strongly persuaded Masella to fix her resi-
dence at Naples, assuring her that whatever ex-
ertions she made to finish the education of her son
would be amply repaid in a few years. The advice
of Giuniano was taken, nor was his prediction un-
verified; but before Jacopo had completed his
studies, he became enamoured of Carmosina Boni-
facia, a lady of noble family.

The passion he had evinced for poetry at an
early period of his youth had now an object, and
was speedily exercised in the composition of son-
nets and canzoni. Such was the excellence of
his verses, both Italian and Latin, that they at-
tracted the attention of the Court, and Frederick,
second son of Ferdinand the First, received him
into his house, and became his affectionate friend
and patron. To gratify the Prince's love of dra-
matic representations, Sannazzaro composed several
pieces in imitation of the ancient satires; among
others, one intitled " Gliomero," containing all the

SAXNAZZARO. 19

words and phrases which were peculiar to the
vulgar of Naples. By this and similar attentions
to the wishes of his patron, and other noble per-
sonages of the Court, he became a general fa-
vourite, and obtained the regard of the King, and
of Alfonso Duke of Calabria, whom he followed to
the war in Tuscany.*

On the accession of Prince Frederick to the
throne, after the kingdom had suffered a series of
ruinous troubles, Sannazzaro expected that standing
as he did so high in the young monarch's favour,
he should be promoted to some of the valuable offi-
ces he had it in his power to distribute among his
followers. He was, however, disappointed. Fre-
derick gave away the governorship of towns with
n liberal hand to other courtiers, but on the poet
he only bestowed a pension of six hundred ducats
and the villa Mergoglino. At first Sannazzaro com-
plained bitterly of this treatment, and asked the
King how it was that he had made him a poet to
dispose of him as if he had been an agriculturist.f
But the beauty of his retreat, and the enjoyment
he found in the uninterrupted leisure it secured
him, soon reconciled him to his lot, and his villa
formed the favourite theme of his muse, and was

* Volpi. t Ep. I. Lib. i.

20 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

regarded in his later years with as great an affec-
tion as if it had been the place of his birth.

But it is probable, though the poet taught him-
self contentment, and gave a value to the pro-
vision made for him which did not in reality belong
to it, that he had not been treated by the King with
the attention their long intercourse had given him
a right to expect. Whether, however, there was
or was not unkindness on the part of the patron,
the poet felt himself aggrieved, and this was suffi-
cient to render his subsequent conduct worthy of
no slight praise. Frederick, unable to support him-
self on his throne, was obliged to seek an asylum
in France ; most of his courtiers, as is usual in
such cases, deserted him ; but among the few who
had sufficient fidelity to accompany him to the land
of his exile was Sannazzaro, and when there was
scarcely another whom the changed fortunes of
their master did not speedily disgust, he continued
at his side, employing every means in his power to
cheer him in his distresses. Among other instances
of his affection was his selling a large portion of
the property he inherited from his father, and giving
the greater part of the sum it brought him to help
the monarch in his necessities. To the last hour
of the unfortunate Frederick's life, the attachment

SANNAZZARO. 21

Sannazzaro thus evinced remained undiminished,
and it was not till he had followed him to the
grave that he could resolve upon returning to his
own country.

On his arrival in Italy he found the enemies of
his master in the full enjoyment of the power of
which they had despoiled him ; his feelings took
fire at the sight of objects with which were asso-
ciated the recollection of his patron's early kind-
ness, and he attacked both the Pope and Duke
Valentine in satires of uncommon virulence. He
also refused the preferred friendship of the cele-
brated Gonsalvo of Cordova, surnamed the Great
Captain, and thus continued to show his decided
attachment to the cause of Frederick as long as any
reasonable opportunity could be found for thus ex-
pressing it.

His beloved Bonifacia died during his residence
in France, and if we may judge from his manner
of mentioning «her in his poems, he regarded her
loss as one of the heaviest afflictions he could have
suffered. But he was not long, it appears, in find-
ing consolation for this misfortune. He had no
sooner taken up his residence in Naples, than his
society was sought by all the principal personages
of the Court and city ; and among the ladies of the

22 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

former was one, the charms of whose person and
conversation speedily captivated his heart. This
lady's name was Cassandra, and she enjoyed the
particular favour of the Queen, of whom she was
the most intimate companion. Sannazzaro's attach-
ment, however, was, it appears, entirely Platonic,
otherwise it would be difficult to account for his
employing the singular means he used to prove
its fervour. Cassandra's accomplishments had in-
spired the Marquis della Tripalda with a passion
sufficiently strong to induce him to seek her hand
in marriage. His offer was accepted by the lady,
and the union was on the point of taking place,
when the Marquis repented, and applied to the
Pope for a dissolution of the contract. Sannazzaro,
in the true spirit of Platonic chivalry, took up Cas-
sandra's quarrel, and wrote to Bembo, begging him
to use his utmost influence to prevent the nullify-
ing of the marriage ; but his application was too
late, and the lady remained free to receive his
addresses in any form he might think proper to
make them. He only continued, however, as be-
fore, to show his devotion by the pleasure he took
in her conversation, and praising her as the most
accomplished of her sex. In one respect, perhaps,
he equalled a more ardent lover. At a later period,

SANNAZZARO. 23

on the removal of the Court to Somma, in conse-
quence of the appearance of the plague at Naples,
he and Cassandra also fixed their residence there,
but the mansions in which they had apartments
were more than a mile distant. Notwithstanding
this, Sannazzaro, who at the time was near seventy
years of age, never suffered a day to pass without
walking to see his mistress, whose smiles and con-
versation were considered amply sufficient to re-
ward him for his pains.

But amid all other circumstances he never suf-
fered himself to lose sight of his literary reputa-
tion. The " Arcadia," a mixture of pastoral prose
and poetry, and various sonnets and other miscel-
laneous pieces, had long employed his attention,
and contributed to establish him in a respectable
rank among the writers of his country ; but Latin
poetry was the fashion of the age, and he feared
that, unless he left some monument of his skill in
classical composition behind him, his name would
be speedily forgotten. With this idea in his mind
he began his poem entitled " De Partu Virginis,"
and continued it with a degree of patience and
care scarcely credible. One of his most intimate
friends was a gentleman named Poderico, blind and
greatly advanced in years, but remarkable for his

24 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

elegant taste and his acquaintance with the best
authors of antiquity. To him Sannazzaro read every
passage of his poem as he composed it, and such
was the nicety of the critic's ear and the cau-
tion of the author that the latter would write as
many as ten separate lines to express the same idea,
leaving it to the choice of his friend which should
stand in the poem. Twenty years were expended in
this manner before the work was finished, and when
it is considered how confined the reputation is which
Sannazzaro enjoys on account of the " De Partu
Virginis," we can scarcely find a better instance to
prove the folly of such a wasteful expenditure of
time and ingenuity. The poem was first inscribed
in .1521 to Leo X., the great patron of classical
learning; but as he died before the author could
reap the advantages he expected from his patron-
age, he dedicated it in 1527 to his successor Cle-
ment VII. He was ever destined, however, to suffer
disappointment in his hopes of gain. Clement ex-
pressed his gratification on receiving the poem, and
added, that he should be happy to see Sannazzaro at
Rome whenever he could find an opportunity to
visit him, but he gave him neither office nor pen-
sion. This disappointment, however, was not the
only source of the uneasiness which occasionally

SANNAZZARO. 25

disturbed his otherwise not untranquil life. When
the Prince of Orange fixed his quarters at Naples,
the French General, Lutrec, in preparing for the
siege of the city, posted his guard in the Villa Mer-
goglino and its neighbourhood. The Prince, con-
sidering this position to be too advantageous to
leave it in the hands of the enemy, sent a detach-
ment of his troops to destroy the villa and what-
ever building might serve as a shelter or defence
for the French. But the reasons which convinced
the Prince of Orange of the necessity of this mea-
sure made no impression on the mind of the poet,
who, on seeing his favourite residence in ruins,
conceived the most implacable dislike against its
destroyer. So virulent were his feelings, that his
anger continued undiminished to the hour of his
death; and it is said that being told, as he was
on the point of expiring, of the Prince's having
fallen in battle, he declared that he could die
easy, as that wretch had met with his deserts.
The death of Sannazzaro took place about the year
1532, and he was buried in a chapel he had built
upon the site of his ruined villa, and to which his
name and remains have given an additional conse-
cration. His personal character appears to have
been compounded of the usual number of human
VOL. n. c

26 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

failings blended with a due proportion of good
qualities. He was devotedly faithful to his friends,
and bold in expressing his sentiments in their fa-
vour ; but he was violently passionate and resentful
against the persons who did any thing to provoke
his anger. He was commonly accused of mean-
ness in his manner of living, but his generosity to
his master in distress more than counterbalanced
any fault of this kind, even were it rightly laid to
his charge, which may be doubted; while in matters
of religion, his founding a convent and erecting two
chapels on the site of Mergoglino prove that he
was not deficient in feelings of devotion or in readi-
ness to show them. His conversation is said to
have been lively and ingenious, and some of his
witticisms have been preserved. On being present
one day when several persons, and among others
some medical men, were discussing which was the
most general disease, he offered to decide the dis-
pute, and, on being asked to do so, he replied, that
the fever of. hope killed more persons than any
other. On a similar occasion, when some physicians
were consulting as to what remedy was the best
for weakness of sight, he observed, that envy was
more likely than any thing else to quicken the
power of vision. Of those whom he saw foolishly

.SANNAZZARO. 27

proud of a noble ancestry, he said, that they were
like persons who dressed themselves up for a
masquerade in royal robes. When any allusion
was made to the popularity of his Arcadia, he
never expressed any feeling of gratification at the
circumstance ; and on being asked the reason of
this indifference, he replied, that there is little
security for the fame which has no better founda-
tion than the praise of the vulgar. In his person
he was above the middle stature, but being lame
his height was not perceived ; and, like the great
Petrarch, he became gray at a very early age.

As a poet, Sannazzaro rested his chief claim
to consideration on his Latin poem, De Partu
Virginis, and on his Arcadia in Italian ; but his
miscellaneous pieces, and more especially his
celebrated Piscatory Eclogues, are ingenious and
elegant. The " De Partu Virginis " is rightly re-
garded as among the most perfect specimens of
classical composition of which modern times can
boast ; and when it is considered how difficult it is
to explain the mysteries of theology in verse in
any language, and how much more so in one which
contains no phrases originally proper for the pur-
pose, Sannazzaro will be allowed to merit all the
praise he has received for the " De Partu Vir-
c 2

28 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

ginis." Vida alone, who was contemporary with
him, and published the Christiade about the same
period, rivals him in the elegance and propriety
of his language, but to these two accomplished
writers belong, by general consent, the brightest
laurel of the modern Latin Muse.

The Arcadia places Sannazzaro in a still more
elevated situation, as it was the first pastoral poem
of any importance produced in Italy ; and to the
popularity it acquired and the real beauty of many
of its passages, may, in a great measure, be as-
cribed the exquisite compositions of a similar kind
which subsequently enriched the poetical literature
of the South.

Htfe of &rfo*to*

THE family of Ariosto was settled at Bologna in
very remote times, and is said to have sprung from
the Aristi, or Aravisti. Though this idea is con-
troverted by most of the authors who have treated
of his genealogy, the antiquity of his race is un-
disputed, as is also the immediate cause of the dis-
tinctions enjoyed by his father and other relatives.
On the marriage of Lippa Ariosto with Obizzo III.
Marquis of Este, that lady, as celebrated for her
attachment to her family as for her singular beauty
and accomplishments, persuaded most of her friends
to remove with her to Ferrara, where they were
established by her influence in many important

32 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

offices. Niccolo, the father of the poet, increased
the honour of the family, and after having bfeen sent
several times ambassador to the Pope, and filled
the highest stations in the Court, was, at length
chosen governor of Reggio. While in this situa-
tion he married Daria, a lady of the Malaguzzi
family, the noblest in Reggio, and on the 8th of
•September 1474, she gave birth to her first child,
the celebrated subject of this memoir.*

The youth of Lodovico was rendered remarkable
by his early passion for works of imagination, and
while still employed about the elements of learning,
he composed a little drama from the story of Py-
ramus and Thisbe, and taught his brothers and
sisters to perform it. Niccolo saw with satisfaction
these indications of his son's genius, but his for-
tune, though respectable, was not great, and his
family in a few years had increased to five sons
and five daughters. Seeing, therefore, little hope
of independence for Lodovico, he destined him to
the study of the civil and canon law, the usual
resource in that day for men of talent and family
but little wealth. By the time he was fifteen, he
was considered sufficiently advanced in the know-
ledge of Latin and the other rudiments of education

* Fornari. Pigna. Barotti : Letterati Ferraresi.

ARIOSTO. 33

to be sent to Padua, where he spent five years, striv-
ing in vain to master his hatred of jurisprudence,
and employing the chief part of his time in the
perusal of French and Spanish romances. There
appears, indeed, reason to believe that he almost to-
tally neglected even the study of the classics during
this period. Before he removed to the university,
he was celebrated among his friends for skill in
Latin ; and Tito Strozza, a man of rank, used to
amuse himself by provoking learned disputes be-
tween his own son, a boy of the same age, and
Lodovico. It also is said to have been either before
or shortly after his removal to Padua, that he
pronounced a Latin oration, which delighted all
who heard it by the propriety and elegance of the
language ; wThile in one of his satires, on the other
hand, in which he alludes to his unprofitable resi-
dence at the university, he describes himself as
scarcely able to construe the fables of ^Esop.

From a fear probably that his son might entirely
lose his taste for study if he confined him to that
of the law, Niccolo was induced to desist from his
intended plans. Having seen him, therefore, reach
the age of twenty without exhibiting any signs of
legal ability, he had the good sense to call him home,
and again free him to the cultivation of general
c5

34 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

literature. This, however, does not appear to have
been done till he had employed his authority and
reproofs, again and again, to no purpose. Lodovico
cherished the most respectful affection for his pa-
rent, but in this one point he strove in vain to
exercise it, and perhaps considered it as a duty by
no means imperative to sacrifice his feelings and
the peace of his life to the hope of making a for-
tune. A curious anecdote is related to show how
impenetrable he was to all exhortations on the
subject. It happened one day that Niccolo was
more than usually severe in expressing himself
respecting the indifference and idleness of which he
was guilty. The young poet seemed to listen atten-
tively, but made no attempt at defending himself,
till his father went out of the room, when his
brother Gabriel, who had been present at the in-
terview, renewed the attack. On this, the accused
commenced a serious argument on the points in
dispute, and made out so clear a case, that his
brother asked in astonishment, why he had not
answered his father in a similar manner ! " Be-
cause," replied Lodovico, " while he was storming,
my mind was wholly occupied with observing his
words and actions, for in a scene of the play I am

ARIOSTO. 35

writing, I introduce a young man and his father
disputing as we have been."

As soon as he had obtained his release, which
he is said to have owed in some measure to the
intercession of his relative Pandolfo Ariosto, he
put himself under the instruction of Gregorio da
Spoleti, then residing at Ferrara, and who was
equally skilled in the Latin and Greek classics.
Lodovico at first confined his attention solely to
the former, the miserable style in which the law
commentaries were written, having conspired with
his own idleness to destroy his previous facility in
Latin composition. The progress he made with
Gregorio was proportionable to his own talent and
the eminent ability of his tutor. He read the best
of the Roman poets with the most critical atten-
tion, Horace occupying the first place in his esti-
mation, and Plautus and Terence the next. His
love of dramatic composition seems indeed to have
been always great. The first effort of his mind
was the little play above mentioned, and to his
latest years he continued to recreate himself by
similar pursuits. The fruits of his present studies
appeared in the form of two dramas, the one called
" La Cassaria," the other " I Suppositi," the cha-

36 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

racters of which he persuaded his brothers and
sisters to represent, and usually had them acted
whenever his father and mother went from home.
Unfortunately for him, Gregorio was called from
Ferrara by Isabella of Naples, who appointed him
preceptor to her son, and Lodovico was left without
the present means of gaining instruction in Greek.
To the regret he experienced at losing his master
was added that of hearing soon after of his decease ;
but scarcely had he recovered from the distress
he felt at this circumstance, when the death of his
father put an end for some time to all his literary
thoughts and pursuits. He has pathetically de-
scribed his situation at this period in his sixth
Satire, which contains several allusions both to the
present and previous circumstances of his life.

Mi more il padre, e da Maria il pensiero

Drietro a Marta bisogna, ch* io rivolga ;

Ch' io muti in squarci, ed in vacchette Omero :
Trovi marito, e modo, che si tolga

Di casa una sorella, e un' altra appresso ;

E che 1' eredita non se ne dolga :
Coi piccioli fratelli, ai quai successo

Era in luogo di padre, far 1'ufficio,

Che debito, e pieta m'avea commesso.
A chi studio, a chi corte, a chi esercizio

Altro procure che nel fin non pieghi

ARIOSTO. 37

Da le virtudi il molle animo al vitio.
Ne questo e solo, ch' a li miei studj nieghi,
Di piu avanzarsi, e basti, che la barca,
Perche non torni a dietro, al lito leghi.

My father dies ; thenceforth with care oppress 'd
New thoughts and feelings fill my harass'd breast ;
Homer gives way to lawyers and their deeds,
And all a brother's love within me pleads :
Fit suitors found, two sisters soon are wed,
And to the altar without portions led.
With all the wants and wishes of their age
My little brothers next my thoughts engage,
And in their father's place I strive untired
To do whate'er that father's love inspired.
Thus watching how their several wills incline
In courts, in study, or in arms to shine ;
No toil I shun their fair pursuits to aid,
Still of the snares that strew their path afraid.
Nor this alone — though press we quick to land,
The bark 's not safe till anchor'd on the strand.

The duties which he thus describes himself as
having to encounter on the death of his father, he
performed, though still but twenty-four years of
age, with the attention and prudence of a man long
accustomed to the cares of a family. So entirely
were his thoughts engrossed by these occupations,
that he neglected all the pursuits which were most

38 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

agreeable to his taste. Neither Greek nor Latin
was allowed to interfere with the claims of his
brothers and sisters, and it was not till his friend
Pandolfo persuaded him to resume his studies, that
he again turned over the pages of his forsaken
Horace. Scarcely, however, had the spark of lite-
rary ambition been re-awakened, when he was de-
prived of his affectionate kinsman by death, which
affected him so deeply that he was on the verge
of despair.*

But he was now twenty-nine years of age, and
his Latin verses, together with some poems in
Italian, remarkable for their tenderness and spirit,
had recommended him to the notice of literary
men of eminence. His reputation for talent was
in a short time generally diffused, and at length
obtained him the patronage of the Cardinal Ippolito
of Este, into whose service he entered soon after
the death of Pandolfo.f He speaks, however, in
the Satire already quoted, as if he felt the neces-
sity which led him to this connexion as the great-
est evil he ever suffered. " To the death of my
father and friend," says he, " was added this, that
I should be oppressed with the yoke of the Car-
dinal d' Este."

* Fornari. t Garofalo.

ARIOSTO. 39

To the annoyances, however, which attended his
capacity as a courtier, might be opposed the op-
portunities he enjoyed of conversing with a suc-
cession of learned and accomplished men, whom
Ippolito was proud to see in his palace. Assisted
by their advice, and animated to emulation by the
honour in which they were held, he continued to
cultivate his genius with new ardour, and, in his
thirtieth year, conceived the idea of writing a
poem which should place him among the cele-
brated bards of his country. He was long doubt-
ful as to what subject would be most suited to
his genius, and at the same time answer the pur-
pose of a compliment to his patron, the Cardinal,
and the other members of the house of Este. His
first intention was to celebrate the actions of Obizo,
a young warrior of that family, who had greatly
distinguished himself in the struggle between
Philip-le-bel and our King Edward. He even be-
gan a poem on this subject, in the terza rima of
Dante, but he found, it is probable, not only the
verse unsuited to the style of an epic, but the plan
too confined for his fertile and wandering ima-
gination. Soon growing weary, therefore, of this
design, he next directed his attention to the
unfinished poem of Boiardo, which was read with

40 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

universal delight, and had gained so complete an
ascendancy over public taste, that every other spe-
cies of poetry is said to have been wholly neglect-
ed.* His long study of the old romance writers,
and the peculiar turn they had given his genius,
rendered the subject of Boiardo's Orlando the
most fascinating that could have been presented
to his fancy ; and he quickly saw that the poem
might be continued in such a manner as not only
to include the most flattering praises of his patrons,
but to secure even a greater degree of popularity
than that obtained by his predecessor. These con-
siderations were sufficient to determine him as to
a subject ; and, taking the Orlando Innamorato for
the supposed commencement of his poem, he re-
solved to continue the adventures of the principal
personages till he brought them out of the laby-
rinth in which Boiardo had left them.

Having collected the materials which were to
form the ground-work of his poem, he commenced
its composition. Bembo, with whom he lived on
terms of close intimacy, strongly persuaded him to
write it in Latin verse, of which he said he was
more perfectly master than Italian, adding, that if
he did so, he would obtain a much greater reputa-

* Garofalo.

ARIOSTO. 41

tion than otherwise. Ariosto replied, that he
should prefer being one of the first writers in the
Tuscan language to occupying scarcely a secondary
place among those who wrote in Latin.*

He had not proceeded far in his work, when he
was interrupted by an invitation from Alphonso,
the Duke of Ferrara, and brother of the Cardinal
Ippolito, to undertake an embassy to the Pope,
Julius the Second. The object of this mission was
to avert, if possible, the threatened vengeance of
the Pontiff against Ferrara. Ariosto was received
at Rome with respect, and obtained a more en-
couraging answer than had been expected. The
Duke, on his return, highly applauded him for the
manner in which he had conducted the affair ; but
the hopes they had conceived from the reply of
Julius proved vain, and the Ambassador had hardly
delivered his message, when the river Po was seen
covered with an armament composed of Papal and
Venetian forces. . A desperate engagement en-
sued between the hostile fleet and that which Al-
phonso immediately sent to oppose its progress.
Ariosto was present in the battle, and rendered ad-
ditional service to his employer, by taking one of
the enemy's largest vessels.

* Idem.

42 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

The enterprize of Julius terminated in his com-
plete defeat : but he was still to be dreaded, and
Alphonso seems to have trembled at having won
the victory. Still anxious, therefore, to obtain
peace with the head of the Church, he determined
upon sending another embassy to effect that de-
sirable object. But it was not easy to find any
one sufficiently bold to undertake the commission.
One courtier after another manifested his unwill-
ingness to expose himself to the fury of Julius,
still raging at the disgrace of his defeat ; and the
Duke saw himself in the most unpleasant dilemma,
till our poet again volunteered his services. To
Rome accordingly he repaired ; but, instead of the
respect shown him on the former occasion, he was
given to understand, by some secret adviser, that
unless he made his escape from the city with the
greatest speed and caution, his life would fall a
sacrifice to his temerity. He obeyed the intima-
tion, and reached Ferrara in safety.*

On the accession of Leo X. to the Pontifical
throne, in 1513, Ariosto conceived the most sanguine
hopes that his fortune would be considerably im-
proved. He had been long known to Leo and others
of the Medici, and seems to have kept up an inter-

* Garofalo.

ARIOSTO. 43

course with them which warranted his expectation
of patronage as soon as the condition of their affairs
might put it in their power to serve him. Leo,
therefore, was no sooner installed in his high office
than Ariosto hastened to Rome; nor was he dis-
couraged by the reception which he met with on
his arrival. The Pontiff, as he has described in
one of his Satires, gave him his hand and em-
braced him with every sign of cordial esteem ; but
his kindness went no farther, except to grant him
a Bull or licence for the publication of the Or-
lando ; and the disappointed poet, seeing no indi-
cations that his company was longer desired, left
Rome the day after his arrival, preferring to sup
at a little inn, a few miles distant from the city, to
staying in the neighbourhood of a court where he saw
himself treated with so much neglect. He returned
by way of Florence, which he visited, it is supposed,
for the sake of being present at the spectacles
exhibited on the festival of St. John the Baptist.
A more important object, however, is assigned by
some authors as the cause of this visit, and the
poet is represented as spending months and even
years there in order to perfect himself in the Tus-
can dialect.* It is not easy to decide which of

* Salviati. Mazzuchelli.

44 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

these opinions merits most attention; it is not
impossible that Ariosto visited Florence with the
intention of being present at the festival, so attrac-
tive to a man of his chivalrous imagination, and
that he remained there some months after, not
forgetting during his stay to study the niceties of
his language, if there were any of which he was
not yet perfect master. It is supposed that he
had spent some time at Florence before this period,
and had probably many acquaintances in the city.
At the period of which we are speaking, he resided
in the house of a gentleman named Niccolo Ves-
pucci, and there became acquainted, as is gene-
rally believed, with the beautiful Alessandra, a
relation of his host, and who seems to have capti-
vated his heart as she sat making a scarf for one of
her sons who was to appear in the tournament.*

He seems to have enjoyed, after these occur-
rences, sufficient leisure to attend to the compo-
sition of his poem, so inopportunely interrupted at
its commencement : and, though often called upon
by the Cardinal to execute business foreign to his
taste, he pursued his favourite occupation with un-
remitted steadiness. At length, in the year 1515,
he had so far completed his design, as to allow of

* Orlando Furioso, c. 42. st. 93.

ARIOSTO. 45

his presenting the work to the public ; and either
in this or the following year the first edition was
printed at Ferrara. The poem, however, as it
then appeared, was far from being such as he de-
sired. He regarded it as incomplete, both in its
plan and style ; and the reason he alleged for
bringing it thus imperfect before the world, was
his anxious desire to discover what would be the
opinion of the public respecting its merits, and to
obtain the criticisms of eminent scholars in dif-
ferent parts of Europe.* But whatever praise he
obtained from others, he certainly met with no en-
couragement from the Cardinal. On his present-
ing him with a copy of the work, that worthy
Churchman rudely asked him " Where he had col-
lected such a mass of fooleries ?"

Soon after this occurrence, a circumstance hap-
pened which put an end to their connection. Ip-
polito, in the year 1518, was preparing for a
journey to his Bishopric of Buda, in Hungary,
and, desirous of seeing himself surrounded by as
splendid a retinue as possible, he invited Ariosto
to accompany him. But neither the health of the
poet nor his inclination rendered the prospect of
such a journey agreeable, and he decidedly re-

* Garofalo.

46 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

fused to leave his country. The arguments he
offered in excuse of this refusal, availed nothing
with his haughty patron, who, on leaving Ferrara, is
said to have manifested towards him the strongest
dislike, which soon after appeared in actions that
could only have resulted from a confirmed hatred.

The fortune which Niccolo left among his ten
children afforded but a small portion for each, and
Ariosto had mainly depended upon the patron-
age of the Cardinal for support. It would, in-
deed, be difficult to believe that a man of his free
and noble mind, and so fond of retirement, would
have subjected himself to the annoyances of de-
pendance, could he have lived without it in any
manner befitting his station. Nor did the service
which Ippolito exacted of his followers consist of
mere flattering attentions to his dignity. They
were expected to attend his summons at all hours
of the night, and the commissions with which he
charged them were frequently dangerous as well
as fatiguing. That Ariosto would have suffered
his quiet to be thus broken, is only to be account-
ed for as above ; and, when he separated from the
Cardinal, he found himself in a situation far from
enviable. The twenty-five scudi which he had re-
ceived as a sort of pension every four months,

ARIOSTO.

47

were no longer remitted him; and the loss of this,
though a small sum in return for the services of
such a man, was a considerable abridgement of his
means of support, even in retirement.

But the journey to Hungary presented so many
horrors to his fancy that he willingly resigned both
his pension and all farther hopes of patronage
rather than undertake it. A dislike of travelling, of
changing his habits of living, or even his diet, was
one of the peculiarities of his character, and Hun-
gary, of all parts of the world, seemed to threaten
him with evils of this sort in greatest abundance.
Contentedly resigning himself, therefore, to his
present fortunes, he resolved to bid adieu to courts
and patrons, and wholly occupy his time with revis-
ing and enlarging his poem and other similar pur-
suits. To be the freer from interruptions, and at
the same time render his moderate income equal
to his support, he left Ferrara and took up his resi-
dence on an estate belonging to his kinsman Mala-
guzzo, between Reggio and Rubiera. He has de-
scribed this retreat, and the pleasant manner in
which he spent his time during his short residence
there, in his fifth Satire ; but it is disputed whe-
ther the account alludes to this or an earlier period
of his life.

48 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

Gia mi fur' dolci inviti a empir le carte
I luoghi ameni, di che 11 nostro Rheggio

E'l natio nido mio n' ha la sua parte :

II tuo Mauritian sempre vaghegghio
La bella stanza, e '1 Rodano vicino,

Da le Naiade amato ombroso seggio :

II lucido vivaio, onde il giardino
. Si cinge intorno, il fresco rio che corre

Rigando 1' erbe, ove poi fa il molino.

N on mi si po de la memoiia torre

Le vigne, e i solchi del fecondo lacco,

Le valle e '1 colle, e la ben posta torre.

Time was when by sweet solitude inclined
The storied page I fill'd with ready mind ;
Those gentle scenes of Reggio's fair domain,
Our own dear nest, where peace and nature reign ;
The lovely villa and the neighbouring Rhone,
Whose banks the Naiads haunt serene and lone ;
The lucid pool whence small fresh streams distil
That glad the garden round and turn the mill ;
Still memory loves upon these scenes to dwell,
Still sees the vines with fruit delicious swell,
Luxurious meadows blooming spread around,
Low winding vales and hills with turrets crown'd.

The death of the Cardinal Ippolito, who did not
live to return from Hungary, produced another
change in his fortunes. The Duke Alphonso, seeing
him left without a patron and provided with so

ARIOSTO. 49

small an income, invited him to return to Ferrara,
which he did, and found no reason, it is said, to
regret that he had once more put himself under
the protection of the house of Este. Alphonso,
knowing his love of retirement and the peculiarity
of his habits, promised to leave him at perfect
liberty to pursue his studies and live in the way
that most suited his wishes. He kept his promise,
and there is reason to believe that the presents he
bestowed on the poet enabled him to build the
cottage in which he resided, with few interruptions,
till his death. This favourite house of Ariosto's
was situated near the church of S. Benedetto, and
stood in the midst of a spacious garden which
formed both his pride and delight. Here he con-
tinued to compose additional cantos to the " Or-
lando Furioso," and occasionally, to relax his mind
with lighter species of poetry, sometimes writ-
ing a satire, and at others reverting to the come-
dies composed in his younger years, and which he
subsequently made fit for the stage.

The caution with which he proceeded in his
larger poem rendered the work of revision long
and painful. After having done every thing in
his power to improve a passage, he would still be
doubtful as to its correctness, till Bembo or some

VOL. II. D

50 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

other literary friend had united their judgment
with his own. The reason alleged for this extreme
particularity is curious ; " not having had a master
in his younger days," says one of his biographers,
" to guide him to the highest perfection of the art,
he desired to supply that defect by the company of
worthy and enlightened men." *

But even now his tranquillity was not perma-
nent. Alphonso employed him in various affairs of
importance, which drew him from his home, and
prevented, for a time, the prosecution of his poetical
labours. These interruptions, however, were brief,
and he returned to his quiet residence still better
prepared to delight in its repose and security. A
much worse hinderance to his comfort was the
smallness of his income. He had received from
the Duke the grant of a small annual sum resulting
from one of the public taxes, but the tax was taken
off and the poet left without any remuneration for
the loss of his little revenue. A portion also of
the property which had descended from his ances-
tors was claimed on the one side by a distant rela-
tion, a monk, and on the other by the ducal cham-
ber, as of right belonging to the State. The first
judge who tried the cause, instituted in conse-

* Fornari.

ARIOSTO. 51

quence of these different claims, was Ariosto's per-
sonal enemy; and the second had sufficient cunning
to persuade him to give up the contest without
fairly pressing his pretensions. At length, how-
ever, a field was found for the employment of his
abilities as a man of business. The territory of Gar-
fagnana, which had placed itself under Alphonso's
protection, was everywhere infested with dan-
gerous hordes of banditti, and required the pre-
sence of a vigilant magistrate. Ariosto was chosen
by the Duke as commissary for the distracted pro-
vince ; but it is not easy to explain the reasons
which led to such an appointment. He thus speaks
of it in his fourth satire : —

Ricorsi al Duca, o voi Signer levarmi
Dovete di bisogno, o non v' incresca,
Ch' io vada altra pastura a procacciarmi.

Grafagnini in quel tempo, essendo fresca
La lor revoluzion, che spinto fuori
Avean Marzocco a procacciar d' altr' esca.

Con lettere frequenti, e ambasciatori
Replicavano al Duca, e facean fretta
D' aver lor capi, e loro usati onori.

Fu di me fatta una improvvisa eletta,
O fosse, perche il termine era breve
Di consigliar chi pel miglior si metta :
D 2

52 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

O pur fu appresso il mio Signer piu leve

II bisogno de' sudditi, che '1 mio ;

Di ch' oblige gli ho, quanto se gli deve.
Obligo gli ho del buon voler, piu ch' io

Mi contend del dono, il quale e grande

Ma non molto conforme al mio desio.

Compelled at length I next the Duke address'd—

Or aid me now, or thus, with want oppress'd,

Let me depart elsewhere to seek relief. —

Just then Marzocco, Garfagnana's chief,

Driven from the state, had left the people free

To choose their prince, and better laws decree.

Anxious to gain the Duke's support, they send

Ambassadors and letters without end ;

And thus importunate they still implore

That he the rule would take and peace restore.

He yields and calls me to the post ; but why,

'Twere hard, I own, to give a clear reply :

From haste, perchance — perchance from greater zeal

To seek his servant's than his people's weal —

"Whate'er the cause, I thank him as I ought,

The kindness great, though small the good it wrought.

It seems probable, from these lines, that the
prudence and experience of the poet were superior
to those of most of the other courtiers ; and, on
the other hand, that this was the most profitable
office with which his master, at that time, could

ARIOSTO. 53

reward his services. The serious diminution also of
his small property rendered him, in some measure,
uneasy as to a provision for his declining years ;
and, when it is considered that he was deprived
of the disputed lands by a law-suit, instituted by
the Government, and that Alphonso attempted no-
thing in his favour, the probability is increased
that he was offered and accepted the appointment
to Garfagnana as a compensation for his loss, and
as the only means of bettering his fortunes.

But however this may be, he proceeded to his
station, and pursued his measures with so much
care and ability, that a considerable improvement
was quickly visible in the condition of the province.
He not only succeeded in restoring tranquillity,
but obtained the affections of the people, who re-
garded his person with a respect amounting to
veneration. A singular instance is on record illus-
trative of the popularity he enjoyed : — being obliged
one day to pass over a wild part of the district,
the forests of which were known to be the resort
of banditti, led by the celebrated chiefs Dominico
Marocco and Filippo Pacchione, he was somewhat
disconcerted at seeing his path crossed by a large
body of armed men coming out of the woods. As
he was attended by only six followers, resistance

54 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

to an attack he knew would be vain. Neither
he nor his party, however, encountered any in-
terruption till his servant, who had loitered be-
hind, on coming up, was asked by one of the ban-
ditti who the gentleman was that had just passed
them. Being answered that it was Ariosto the
poet, he immediately spurred his horse forward,
and, pulling off his hat as he approached him, said
that he was Filippo Pacchione, and was come to
apologize for having suffered so great a man as
Ariosto to pass him unsaluted.* A story very
similar to this is quoted by Hoole from Baretti's
preface to his Italian Library. The translator con-
siders it as the same incident told in a different
manner : but the state of the people of. Garfag-
nana was sufficiently unsettled to allow of their
commissary's being more than once exposed to the
danger of interruption by banditti. " Ariosto,"
says Baretti, " took up his residence in a fortified
castle, from which it was imprudent to step out
without guards, as the whole neighbourhood was
swarming with outlaws, smugglers, and banditti;
who, after committing the most enormous excesses
all around, retired for shelter against justice amidst

* Garofalo.

ARIOSTO. 55

the rocks and cliffs. Ariosto, one morning, hap-
pened to take a walk without the castle, in his
night-gown, and in a fit of thought forgot himself
so much, that, step by step, he found himself very
far from his habitation, and surrounded on a sud-
den by a troop of these 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 this was Signor
Ariosto, the chief of the banditti addressed him
with intrepid gallantry, and told him, that since he
was the author of the Orlando Furioso, he might be
sure none of the company would injure him ; but
would see him, on the contrary, safe back to the
castle. And so they did, entertaining him all
along the way with the various excellencies they
had discovered in his poem, and bestowing upon it
the most rapturous praises : — a very rare proof of
the irresistible powers of poetry, and a noble com-
ment on the fable of Orpheus and Amphion, who
drew wild beasts and raised walls with the en-
chanting sound of their lyres." On another oc-
casion, having to meet a person on business at
Lucca, he was accosted, on his arrival there, by a
numerous body of the most respectable persons

56 LIVES OP THE ITALIAN POETS.

of the neighbourhood, who had assembled for the
purpose of showing him respect, and had also pre-
pared a splendid banquet in his honour.*

Having spent three years in Garfagnana, he re-
turned to Ferrara, but not till after he had received
several letters from his friend Pistofolo, the Duke's
chief minister, in vain persuading him to accept
the office of Ambassador to the Pontifical Courtf
Besides his disinclination to travel, another reason
is assigned for his refusal to visit Rome, the See
of which was now possessed by Clement VII., his
known friend and admirer. This additional motive
for his love of home was, according to common
report, his strong attachment to a lady of Ferrara ;
but none of his biographers have been able to say
who she was, or to throw any light upon the cir-
cumstances of his connection with her. The only
fact known with certainty is, that he had two
sons, Virginio and Giovanna Battista ; but whether
they were borne him by the lady alluded to, or
were the offspring of a former amour, is not
decided. It has been asserted, that he was se-
cretly married, and that his wife was the Ales-
sandra mentioned in his poems ; while the per-
fect silence which he preserved respecting this

* Fornari. t Mazzuchelli.

ARTOSTO. 57

union, is supposed to he accounted for by the cir-
cumstance of his holding preferments in the
Church, of which the publicity of his marriage
would have deprived him. By far the greater
number of authors, however, who have treated of
his life, observe that his two sons were never re-
garded as other than illegitimate.

On his return to Ferrara he again established
himself, with his two unmarried sisters, in the
house he had built near the church of Saint Be-
nedict, and resumed his former occupations. Of
his lighter amusements, gardening was that in
which he took most pleasure ; and it is curious
to know that he was as fond of altering the plan
of both his house and grounds, as he was of re-
modelling the stanzas of the Orlando. His son
Virginio proposed writing an account of his illus-
trious father's life ; but, unfortunately, he never
pursued his design beyond the commencement, and
a few memorandums are all that have come down
to us. From these, however, we learn the sin-
gular fastidiousness of Ariosto in his horticultural
amusements, and some other traits of his charac-
ter, which render him not the less an object of our
veneration, by showing us the simplicity as well
as power of his mind. " In gardening," says Virgi-
D 5

58 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

nio, " he pursued the same plan as with his verses,
never leaving any thing he had planted more than
three months in the same place : and, if he set a
fruit-tree, or sowed seed of any kind, he would go
so often to examine it, and see if it were growing,
that he generally ended with spoiling or breaking
off the bud. As his knowledge also of flowers was
very limited, he many times mistook the plants
which might be springing up by chance in the
neighbourhood, for those he had set, and he would
watch them with the greatest care till he was put
beyond doubt as to his mistake. I remember, that
having once sown some caper-seed, he went every
day to see what progress they were making, and
was delighted, in a short time, with observing that
they flourished extraordinarily well : he at last,
however, discovered, that he had mistaken a young
elder-bush for his capers, and that his plants were
not yet above ground."

We learn, from the same interesting document,
that he had at first no intention of building a house
for constant residence in this garden, but that,
having raised a mere cottage for temporary shelter,
he grew so fond of the spot, that he wished never
to leave it. The structure, after all, was not fully
suited to his taste, and he felt as great an in-

ARIOSTO. 59

clination to improve it by continual alterations as
his garden. His constant lamentation was, that
he could not change the arrangement of his house
as he could that of his verses ; and a person hav-
ing asked him one day, how it happened that he
who could describe castles and palaces so mag-
nificently, had built such a cottage, he replied,
that he made his verses without the aid of money.
That he was not a little proud, however, of his
small but pleasant retreat, is proved by his putting
an inscription over the door, signifying its con-
venience and adaptation to his circumstances : —

" Parva sed apta mihi, sed nulli obnoxia, sed non
Sordida, parta meo sed tamen aere domus."

In his favourite garden he passed many hours
of the day, deriving new inspiration from its green
and refreshing solitudes. The Orlando was still
in progress, and still under correction, his confi-
dence in himself, it seems, having been little in-
creased either by years or practice. In speaking,
however, on this subject, he was accustomed to say,
that poetry might be compared to a laurel, which
sprung up of itself, and which might be greatly
improved by cultivation, but would lose all its
natural beauty if too much meddled with : — this

60 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

is the case, he would continue, with stanzas, which
come into the mind, we know not how, and which
may be improved by the correction of a little
original roughness, but are deprived of all their
grace and freshness by too nice a handling. A
story illustrative of his feelings on a similar point, is
told by Sir John Harrington in his " Life of Ari-
osto," appended to his translation, and which, he in-
forms us, l was briefly and compendiously gathered
out of sundry Italian writers.' " As he himself
could pronounce very well," says Sir John, " so it
was a great penance to him to hear others pro-
nounce ill that which himself had written excel-
lent well. Insomuch as they tell of him, how,
coming one day by a potter's shop, that had many
earthen vessels ready made, to sell on his stall, the
potter fortuned at that time to sing some stave
or other out of Orlando Furioso, I think where
Rinaldo requesteth his horse to tarry for him, in
the first book, the thirty-second stanza : —

' Ferma, Baiardo, mio, deh, ferma il piede
Che 1' esser senza de troppo mi nuoce.'

Or some such grave matter, fit for a potter. But
he plotted the verses out so ill-favouredly, (as
might well beseem his dirty occupation,) that

ARIOSTO. 61

Ariosto being, or at least making semblance to be,
in a great rage withal, with a little walking-stick
he had in his hand, brake divers pots. The poor
potter, put quite beside his song, and almost be-
side himself, to see his market half marred before
it was a quarter done, in a pitiful sour manner, be-
tween railing and whining, asked what he meant,
to wrong a poor man that had never done him
injury in all his life. ' Yes, varlet,' quoth Ariosto,
* I am yet scarce even with thee for the wrong
thou hast done me, here before my face ; for I
have broken but half a dozen base pots of thine,
that are not worth so many halfpence, but thou
hast broken and mangled a fine stanza of mine,
worth a mark of gold.' " There is a great simi-
larity between this story and an anecdote related
of Dante, who, it is said, punished a blacksmith
and muleteer for a like offence. The temper and
fastidiousness of these great men respecting their
verses, render it sufficiently probable that the* tra-
ditions are in both cases correct.

Six editions of the " Orlando" had been now
given to the world, the first, namely, in 1515, the
second in the following year, and the third in 1521,
all which were printed at Ferrara. In 1526 a
fourth appeared at Milan ; and in the following year

62 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

it was printed at Venice, where another edition
was also published in 1530. None of these edi-
tions extend beyond forty cantos, and they are far
from being so correct as the later ones : but their
number will serve to show how generally popular
the work had become, even in the lifetime of
the author.*

By his services in Garfagnana, Ariosto had ac-
quired an additional claim to the consideration of
Alphonso. In his character as a useful servant of
the state, he stood on an equal footing with the
most esteemed members of the court : his talents
had been tried in the most difficult affairs, and had
never failed to produce some good effect, wherever
they had a fair field for exertion. He had, indeed,
gained the hearty affections of his master, and it
was the serious desire of the Prince to employ
him in some manner which might still attach him
to his person without greatly invading his love of
leisure or retirement. The passion of the Duke for
theatrical amusements, and Ariosto's known taste
for dramatic composition, furnished the former with
a ready means for the exercise of his regard. In-
stead, therefore, of again sending him from his
beloved retreat, or imposing upon him an office of

* Mazzuchelli.

ARIOSTO.

63

labour and difficulty, he appointed him to superin-
tend the arrangements which were making for the
performance of the regular drama at his court. No
employment could have better suited the poet's
inclination. He immediately drew out a plan
for the theatre, which was closely followed; and
so superb and convenient was the structure,
when finished, that it was the admiration of all
Italy.

But the great advantage Alphonso reaped from
his choice of Ariosto for this office, was his ability
to supply the stage with more perfect dramas than
had been hitherto written by any modern author.
Leo X. and his courtiers were the first to bring
scenic amusements of a higher order into fashion.
They restored the language of the theatre to its
old classical style, and bestowed an attention upon
this object, which, however favourable to its im-
provement, scarcely agreed, as has been rightly
observed, with their station or functions.* But
it was to Ariosto that the practice of writing come-
dies in verse owed its commencement. The " Cas-
saria and I Suppositi," already mentioned, were
originally written in prose, and remained unaltered
till Alphonso's fondness for the drama induced

* Tiraboschi.

64 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

the author to remodel and turn them into verse.
These, and four others, which he wrote on a simi-
lar plan, were performed in the magnificent the-
atre pertaining to the court ; and such was the
estimation in which they were held, that Fran-
cesco, the son of the Duke, publicly pronounced
one of the prologues, while the characters them-
selves were represented by the first personages of
Ferrara.

Four years were spent in these gay and easy
occupations ; and, so much were his comedies ad-
mired, that they tended to increase even the high
reputation he had acquired by the Orlando Fu-
rioso. It appears, however, that they had not
yet made any impression on the Venetians, for
Fabbroni, having seen one of them at Ferrara, con-
ceived the design of bringing it out at the the-
atre of Venice, but found himself wholly disappoint-
ed in the result. The name of Ariosto gathered
together a numerous audience, and its expectation
was raised to the utmost, from the idea that all the
heroes and magical scenes of the Orlando would
be represented to the life : the disappointment
of the spectators, therefore, was extreme, when
they found that characters, of which they had
never before heard, were to occupy their atten-

ARIOSTO. 65

tion ; and so strong was the expression of dissa-
tisfaction, that the performers were obliged to with-
draw before the play was half concluded.

But neither the desire of contributing to Al-
phonso's amusement, nor his own relish for drama-
tic composition, could tempt Ariosto to neglect the
great design on which he rested his hope of im-
mortal fame. Plays and satires, and even epigrams,
frequently employed his muse ; but they were only
written to relax his mind after a long and serious
attention to the Orlando, as Statius, it was ob-
served, composed his " Sylvia," to relieve him from
the severer labour attending the composition of
his "Thebaid." In the year 1532, the result of
his protracted exertions appeared in a new edi-
tion of his work, much altered by his careful
and repeated corrections, and enlarged by the ad-
dition of six new cantos. The most precious fruit
of his life and genius was thus again brought
before the world; and the anxiety with which
he watched the impression which this improved
edition would make upon the public, was scarce-
ly less than that which he felt on the first ap-
pearance of the poem seventeen years before.
It was with feelings, therefore, of the deepest
distress, that he found that the printing of the

66 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

work was so bad and incorrect, as to deprive it
almost entirely of the advantages of his cautious
revision. In writing to a friend on the subject, he
emphatically described his vexation, by saying, that
" he had been assassinated by his printer."

It is probable that this circumstance, combined
with the fatigue attending his close application
while preparing the edition for the press, had a
serious effect on his health, which now began to
exhibit signs of rapid decline. The only complaint
from which he appears to have hitherto suffered,
was a slight asthmatic affection, and a weakness
of digestion, which rarely diverted him from his
usual occupations. But in the spring of 1533, he
was seriously attacked with indigestion, and the
method which his physicians employed to remove
it, acting too violently upon his constitution, the
malady daily assumed a more alarming appearance.
It is a curious circumstance, that the origin of his
complaint was attributable to his hasty manner of
eating, to which he was so prone, that he seldom
allowed himself time to masticate his food. The
temperance for which he was remarkable, prevent-
ed its being believed that this peculiarity could
be owing to any grossness of appetite, and his
friends uniformly ascribed it to the utter absence

ARIOSTO. 67

of mind with which he partook of his meals. To
illustrate this point, his son Virginio has left an
anecdote on record, which places it beyond doubt
that such was the case, unless we choose to accuse
the poet of inhospitality. A foreigner having been
introduced to him one day, was invited, during
their conversation, to partake of some refreshment.
A slight repast accordingly being brought in, the
stranger modestly waited for some sign from Ari-
osto to begin ; but the latter, taking no notice of
his companion, placed himself at the table, and
never ceased from eating till he had finished what-
ever was on the board. On another occasion, his
friends at court wishing to prove how insensible
he was to the mere flavour of his food, set
before him a dish of some very coarse and dis-
agreeable meat, instead of a delicate bird, which
he had been led to expect: unluckily, however,
for the success of their experiment, a stranger,
who happened to sit next him, tasted the dish,
and, expressing his surprise, the trick was dis-
covered.

But indifference to the temptations of the table
proved, in his case, as fatal as their undue indul-
gence in others. The constant application of me-
dicine to remove the oppression under which he

68 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

laboured brought on a consumption, and on the
night of the 6th of June 1533, he breathed his
last, his death, it is worthy of mention, having been
preceded only a few hours by the total destruction
of Alphonso's splendid theatre by fire.

Ferrara, all Italy, and even Europe, lamented
Ariosto as the first poet of the age, and as worthy of
being enrolled in the same chart of fame with the
greatest ;hat had ever lived. His funeral was ren-
dered remarkable by the attendance of a large body
of monks, who to honour his memory, followed him,
contrary to the rules of their order, to the grave.
His son Virginio shortly after built a small chapel in
his garden, and formed a mausoleum to which he
intended to remove his remains, but the same monks
prohibited it, and the body was left in the humble
tomb in which it was originally deposited, till
the new church of S. Benedetto was built, when
Agostino Mosti, a gentleman of Ferrara, raised
above it a monument more worthy of the poet. In
1612 his great-grandson, Lodovico, erected a still
nobler one, and removed the ashes of his ancestor
from the tomb of Agostino, as the latter had done
from the one in which they were originally depo-
sited. This monument of Lodovico, which still

ARIOSTO. 69

exists, is built of the most costly marble, and
adorned with two statues representing Glory and
Poetry, together with an effigy of the poet in
alabaster. The inscription is as follows : —

D. O. M.

Ter Illi Maximo, Atque Ore Omnium Celeber-
Rimo Vati, a Carolo V. Caesare Coronato, No-
Bilitate Generis Atque Animi Claro, In Rebus
Publicis Administrandis, In Regendis Populis,
In Gravissimis Ad Summos Pontifices Legationi-
Bus Prudentia, Consilio, Eloquentia Praestan-
Tissimo, Ludovicus Areostus Pronepos, Ne Quid
Domesticae Pietati Ad Tanti Viri Gloriam Cu-
Mulandum Defuisse Videri Possit, Magno Pa-
Truo, Cujus Ossa Hie Vere Condita Sunt P. C.

Anno Salutis MDCXII. Vixit An. LIX. Obiit
Ann. Sal. MDXXXIII. VIII. Idus Junii.

Notus Et Hesperiis Jacet Hie Areostus, Et Indis,
Cui Musa Sternum JS'omen Etrusca Dedit ;

Seu Satyram In Vitia Exacuit, Sen Comica Lusit,
Seu Cecinit Grandi Bella, Ducesque Tuba,

Ter Summus Vates, Cui Docti In Vertice Pindi,
Tergemina Licuit Cingere Fronde Comas.

The 4 a Caesare Coronato' has given rise to much
controversy, but it has been fully proved that Ari-

70 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

osto was never formally crowned. He wrote a
jesting epitaph in Latin for himself, which runs
thus : —

Ludovici Areosti humantur ossa

Sub hoc marmore, seu sub hac humo, seu

Sub quidquid voluit benignus haeres,

Sive haerede benignior comes, sive

Opportunius incidens viator,

Nam scire baud potuit futura, sed nee

Tanti erat vacuum sibi cadaver

Ut urnam cuperet parare vivens,

Vivens ista tamen sibi paravit,

Quae inscribi voluit suo sepulchre,

Olim si quod haberet is sepulchrum,

Ne cum spiritus exili peracto

Praescripti spatio misellus artus,

Quos aegre ante reliquerat, reposcet,

Hac et hac cinerem hunc et hunc revellens,

Dum norit proprium, diu vagetur.

Pope adopted this epitaph, and called it an
inscription " For one who would not be buried in
Westminster Abbey," meaning himself: —

Under this marble, or under this sill,
Or under this turf, or e'en what they will ;
Whatever an heir, or a friend in his stead,
Or any good creature shall lay o'er my head,

ARIOSTO. 71

Lies one who ne'er car'd, and still cares not a pin,
What they said or may say of the mortal within,
But who living and dying, serene still and free,
Trusts in God that as well as he was he shall be.

It is not, however, the easiest task, to which the
imagination can be put, to make the living man
speak as if he were already dead ; and Dr. John-
son has with an amusing acuteness observed on
Pope's imitation, that " when a man is once buried,
the question under what he is buried is easily
decided ; he forgot that though he wrote the
epitaph in a state of uncertainty, yet it could not
be said over him till his grave was made."

Ariosto had no need to write his own epitaph ;
besides that engraved on his monument, a great
number were written by his various admirers, and
several others by unknown persons, on different sides
of the tomb. Nor has the place of his rest wanted
other marks of respect. More than one royal tra-
veller has made a pilgrimage to his grave ; and
when the excellent Joseph II. had to pass through
Ferrara, and could scarcely spare time for refresh-
ment, he devoted the short hour he spent in
the town to show his respect for the memory of
Ariosto. His visit to the tomb was celebrated by

72 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

several poets of the day, one or two of whose son-
nets are preserved and cited by Barotti.*

The person of Ariosto is described by his bio-
graphers with little variation in their language.
His figure was large and well-formed, except about
the shoulders, which were disproportioned to the
rest of his person, and were rendered still more
so in appearance by his habit of stooping as he
walked. His step was slow and measured, and
the expression of his countenance indicative of
habitual contemplation. His thin cheeks and dark
complexion added still farther to the gravity of his
looks, while his bald and lofty forehead, the rest
of his head being covered with dark curling locks,
his black and penetrating eyes, and thick bushy
beard, gave him the appearance of a man different
from the common race of mortals. Nor was he
wanting in the milder graces of person. His lips
were beautifully formed, and when he smiled ex-
pressed the soft and amiable sentiments which so
often grace his descriptions; his voice was clear
and harmonious, and all his gestures indicative of
a lofty but affectionate disposition.

Of his general character and sentiments we may
form, says one of his biographers, an accurate

* Let. Fer.

ARIOSTO. 73

opinion from his poems, and especially from his
satires, in which the opinions he utters seem to
have been dictated by the purest morality, " and
I will courageously assert," says the same writer,
a man of learning and gravity, " that if he had
lived in our days he would have afforded an
example worthy of imitation, and made a con-
spicuous figure among the men whom we are
accustomed to regard as most moral in their
habits."* And certainly if the love and exercise
of justice, forbearance under injuries, temperance
in living, humanity and kindness towards inferiors,
and a pure and unshaken attachment to inde-
pendence, can make a man worthy of this praise,
Ariosto richly deserved it ; but we must not forget
to lament his errors while we admire his virtues,
nor buckle on charity as an armour that we may
fight with security against truth. The amours of
Ariosto are a difficult theme for both his eulogists
and his biographers. He has alluded in his poems
to several ladies with whose charms he was cap-
tivated, but, with the exception of Alessandra and
Genevre, the names under which they are men-
tioned are fictitious. His caution in this respect
is thought to have been hinted at in the device

* Barotti.
VOL. II. E

74 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

placed on his favourite inkstand, and which con-
sisted of a little Cupid having his fore-finger on
his lip in token of secrecy. The ladies, however,
above mentioned seem 'to have been excepted
from the usual custom of the poet, and it is be-
lieved, as before observed, that Alessandra was his
wife. If this were the case, the only reason that
can be alleged for his keeping his marriage a
secret is his having embraced the ecclesiastical
profession, which he is said to have done at a
former period of his life, and to have obtained
benefices which he must have resigned imme-
diately, had his marriage been made known to the
world. The t evidence in proof of Alessandra's
being his wife is, in fact, little short of unan-
swerable.

In two letters, written to Messer Giovan Fran-
cesco Strozzi, we find her mentioned as if she was
not only his habitual companion, but recognised as
such by his intimate friends of both sexes. In the
first of these epistles, dated Ferrara, January 21,
1532, he tells Messer Strozzi that Madonna Ales-
sandra desired to be remembered to him and his
sister, and that she had sent the latter two pieces
of silk for which she paid a scudo of gold, obtain-
ing them with difficulty at that price, as the Jew

ARIOSTO. 75

from whom she purchased them required four lire.
In the second, dated Ferrara, June 21, 1532, he
says, that he had just returned to Madonna Ales-
sandra as the messenger arrived with Messer
Strozzi's letter, and after mentioning some late
occurrences and giving his opinion upon them, he
adds, that Madonna Alessandra also thought in
the same manner.

In addition to the conjectures which these let-
ters, and the opinion of more than one early author
on the subject, lead us to form, we find from the
preface to Barotti, whose work was published after
his death, that shortly before his decease his friend
Frizzi convinced him that Ariosto was really mar-
ried to Alessandra, bringing certain documents
which put the fact beyond a doubt, and that had
he recovered sufficiently to revise his work, he
would have made the subject clearer to the public
than had hitherto been done. According to the re-
cords above alluded to, Alessandra was the widow
of Tito di Leonardo Strozzi, a nobleman of Ferrara,
and it is conjectured that she was the same lady
with whom the poet became enamoured at Niccolo
Vespuccio's.* It is believed, however, that the
marriage did not take place till the latter part of

* Tiraboschi.
E2

76 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

Ariosto's life, and that neither Virginio nor Giam-
battista, who were legitimatised in 1530 and 1538,
sprung from the union, but that the former was the
son of a person known by the name of Orsolina,
and the latter of some one whose name has hitherto
escaped the most diligent research. Whoever were
the mothers of Ariosto's sons, he paid the most
diligent attention to their education. The younger
entered the Ferrarese army and died a captain ; but
Virginio was for some time brought up under 'his
father's instruction, and subsequently sent to Pa-
dua, in 1531, to complete his education. On this
occasion Ariosto wrote to Pietro Bembo, informing
the Cardinal that he had directed his son to call
on his reverence the moment he arrived at the
University, and begging him at the same time to
afford him his favour when necessary, and to watch
over him, and admonish him not to waste his time.
It was on the same occasion also that he dedicated
to him the well-known Satire, in which he alludes
to the circumstances of his own youth, and ex-
presses so strongly the noble feelings which marked
his character. The sentiments of this production
are elevated and powerfully expressed. Near the
commencement he says :

ARIOSTO. 77

Dottrina abbia, e bonta, ma principale
Sia la bonta, che non vi essendo questa

Ne molto quella a la mia stima vale.
So ben, che la dottrina fia piu presta,
A lasciarsi trovar, che la bontade.

Knowledge and Virtue — these be all his aim,
But first and chief let Virtue homage claim ;
Without her, little should I care to find
Knowledge, far easier gain'd, enrich his mind.

He next entreats the Cardinal to find a tutor
for his son who was free from the common
vices of the age, and who could make him read,
in the proper language of Homer, what Ulysses
suffered at Troy and in his wanderings; and to
understand what Apollonius, Euripides, and the
other Grecian poets wrote ; observing that he had
himself taught him to read Virgil, Terence, Ovid,
Horace, and Plautus, but was now too idle or too
weak to open the temple of Apollo in Delos, as he
had done the sanctuary of the Muses on the Roman
Palatine. With great feeling he then describes the
difficulties he had to encounter when a young man
in acquiring the advantages he wished to bestow
on his son, concluding with another request that
his friend would not fail to assist him in his pa-
rental cares. But we must now turn from the con-

78 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

sideration of his personal to that of his literary
character.

Few works have been submitted to severer cri-
ticism than the " Orlando Furioso," but if the popu-
larity of a poem be a proper test of its merits, this
celebrated production has an undoubted right to be
ranked among the noblest efforts of human genius.
In a letter of Bernardo Tasso to Varchi, we find
him saying that in his time there was not " an ar-
tisan, nor a boy, nor girl, nor old man, who had
not read it over and over again ; that its stanzas
formed the comfort of the lonely traveller, who
relieved the toil of his cold and weary journey by
singing them as he went, and that persons might
be heard repeating them in every street and field."
At a period when no artificial methods were in
vogue for attracting attention to literary works,
such a wide and rapidly diffused popularity could
be only owing to the real delight inspired by its
gay and varied creations. The inquiry, conse-
quently, as to its merits when compared with the
more classical productions of the Muse, is reduced
to the question, how far the excellence of works
of imagination depends on their conformity to cer-
tain laws of taste, but which conformity is only
to be perceived by the most tutored and refined in-

ARIOSTO. 79

tellects. Neither Homer nor Virgil was ever read
by so many thousands as Ariosto, and never, it is
probable, inspired their admirers with a delight so
vivid as that felt by the traveller as he sung the
story of Orlando. Yet few persons qualified to
compare these works, would place the Orlando
Furioso above the Iliad, or JEneid, or regard it
as manifesting so high a power of intellect ; and
this because, though it possess every grace and
charm with which imagination and verse can invest
a composition, it fails in that unity of design which
renders an epic poem, according to a justly esteemed
author, " the noblest of all harmonious creations —
the greatest possible extension given to those laws
of symmetry, which, directing all parts to one ob-
ject, produce in each the pleasure and perfection
of the whole."* Ariosto, indeed, was wanting in
that power of harmonious combination which, next
to the creative faculty of imagination, is the highest
quality of mind ; and which may be regarded as
solely furnishing the link between the inspirations
of genius and the operations of art, art being
neither more nor less than the power of expressing
under one point of view the unlimited and multi-
form creations of the imagination. That Ariosto

* Sismondi.

80 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

was deficient in this respect is sufficiently evi-
denced by the slight connexion between the diffe-
rent parts of his work, which everywhere presents
proofs that it was the offspring of a mind luxurious
in invention, but weak in commanding the objects
it called forth.

Next to its deficiency in unity may be men-
tioned its want of a moral, in that sense at least
in which the term is usually applied to epic, or
dramatic poetry. It seems, indeed, that morality
is the true foundation of unity, and that the latter
never exists in poetry or painting but when the
writer or artist is powerfully impressed with some
ruling sentiment, round which his thoughts and the
creations of his imagination may cluster, and which
may be as an imperishable altar of gold, on which
love and romance may safely burn their incense,
rendered more precious and odorous by the very
sacredness of the altar. Whenever the imagina-
tion of an author is stronger than his moral feeling
of the subject, or fable, on which he is employed,
we may see a gay creation of fairy bowers, of
castles and palaces peopled with ladies beautiful
as light ; we may be soothed, and charmed, and
wrapt in pleasant reveries, as we are by music,
but we shall feel that they are only reveries — that

ARIOSTO. 81

the mind must be lulled into repose before we
attempt to enjoy them ; that they are best un-
derstood in sylvan solitudes and by the side of
brooks, where the rustling of leaves and the murmur
of waters aid the fancy ; and that should any acci-
dent break the thread of our musings, the whole
creation would vanish. But let us read the Iliad,
or a tragedy like Lear or Macbeth, or look for some
time at a painting on which the moral sentiment of
the artist is as strongly impressed as his imagination ;
and instead of having to humour the fancy that the
charm may be kept alive, we shall with difficulty
shake off the impression when it is necessary to
return to the real business of life. But it is only
the few, the Heaven-gifted few, on whom Truth,
the ministering spirit of beauty, whether moral or
material, bestows her talisman, touched by which
the brilliant forms of fancy are filled with life, and
become fitly and harmoniously ranged in the same
beautiful creation. The scenes described, the forms
and elements of inanimate nature, the beings that
move and act are then all evidently subjected to the
same master feeling — that feeling, namely, of moral
beauty which in a few rare instances seems to glow
the stronger the more active the imagination, and
which holds it in continual subjection, because
' E5

82 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

genius works emblematically of divine power, and
in the real universe nothing is beautiful without
truth and order.

But the Orlando Furioso is not an epic, and is
therefore not to be judged by the laws to which
that species of poem is amenable. Nor is it to be
supposed that because a poem is, or is not written
in conformity with a certain plan, it merits simply
on that account to be placed in a higher or lower
class of imaginative works. Unity of plan can
give birth to no feeling of admiration when it is
merely studied and mechanical — when it is not, in
fact, as much the effect of inspiration as the images
or sentiments of the work. Though Ariosto, there-
fore, when compared with the three or four
mightiest spirits of our race, maybe found wanting,
we are bound to honour him as next to them in rank,
and infinitely above the most successful imitator
of Homer or Virgil that ever lived. In another
light also the Orlando Furioso is worthy of the
most philosophic attention, as well as of the popular
admiration it enjoys. It stands in the same rela-
tion to the romantic times of chivalry as the old
epics do to those of the heroic classical ages ; and
in no other work can we see the spirit and the
sentiments which at one time gave so rich a co-

ARIOSTO. 83

louring to European manners, developed with such
clearness or magnificence. M. Ginguene observes,
in concluding his critique on Ariosto, " that what-
ever may be thought of the romantic epic, it is
a • species of poetry separate from all others, and
has its chefs d'ceuvre and its models as well as the
ancient and legitimate epic. It belongs," continues
he, " altogether to modern Italy, and may boast of
having produced one of those great poems which
make an epoch in the history of the human mind ;
which eternally criticised, and eternally praised,
runs no risk of falling into that gulf of forgetfulness
which swallows up so many others, but will for
ever remain an object of interest and discussion
among men, and will afford nourishment to the
imagination, aid to the arts, and refreshment to
the minds of many generations. This is certain —
this is sufficient to authorise our admiration and
even enthusiasm, and should induce foreigners to
read Ariosto not superficially, but with a careful
and even profound attention." M. Ginguene then
proceeds to quote the opinion of the learned Gra-
vina, who attributes the principal faults of Ariosto
to his imitation of Boiardo, and not to any defect
in his own taste or genius. The errors which
chiefly attracted the notice of that distinguished

84 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

scholar are the interruptions which interfere with
the thread of the narrative, and principally consist
of digressions made for the sake of complimenting
the nobles of the Court, or to introduce the story
again which had been broken off by these untimely
addresses. But the French critic thus apologises
for the supposed defect, and ingeniously accounts
for its origin :— " To judge rightly," says he, " of
Ariosto, the reader must figure to himself the
Court of Ferrara, one of the most frequented and
most polished that could be found in Italy during
the sixteenth century. He must consider it as
forming every evening a brilliant circle, of which
Alphonso d'Este and the Cardinal Ippolito were
the centre; he must forget the subsequent un-
kindness of the Prince of the Church, and only
regard the splendour which surrounds him, his
supposed love of letters, and attachment to the
poet. In this noble and festive assembly he must
imagine the bard to be riveting the attention of
all eyes and ears during an hour or more for forty-
six evenings. The first day, he proposes his subject ;
he addresses himself to the Cardinal, his patron ;
he promises to celebrate the origin of his illustrious
race ; he commences the recital ; but, as soon as
he thinks the attention of his audience may be

ARIOSTO.

85

wearied, he stops, saying, that what remains to be
told, is reserved for another canto. The next day,
the party again assemble, and wait with impa-
tience the appearance of the poet : he enters, and,
after some short reflections on the capriciousness
of love, resumes the thread of his story. The
third day, he changes his tone and method, and
consecrates this period of his song to predicting
the glory of the house of Este. Having com-
pleted his complimentary stanzas, he ceases, and,
as usual, promises to renew the recital in an-
other canto, sometimes adding, * If it be agreeable
to you to hear this story ;' or, * you will hear the
rest in another canto, if you come again to hear
me.' He found these forms established by the
custom of the oldest romantic poets; he considered
them natural and convenient for his purpose, and
he borrowed them. Like these, his predecessors,
he also avoids losing sight of his audience, even in
the course of the recital : he addresses himself to
the Princes who might be presiding at the meeting,
and to the ladies who graced it by their presence,
not unfrequently apologising when he told some
incident which seemed incredible, with such words
as these ; ' This is very wonderful ; you believe
it not ! but I do not say it of myself, but, Turpin

86 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

having put it in his history, I put it in mine.'
Place yourself in this point of view," concludes
M. Ginguene ; " seat yourself in the midst of that
attentive assembly ; attend — join in its admiration
of that fertile genius — that inimitable story-teller
— that adroit courtier — that sublime poet — stop
when he stops — suffer yourself to wander, to be
elevated, to be inflamed as he does himself — lay
aside the too severe taste, which might diminish
your pleasure : hear Ariosto, above all, in his own
language ; study his niceties ; learn to perceive
their grace, their force and harmony, and you will
then know what to think of the atrabilious critics
who have dared to treat unjustly so true and great
a genius."

Whatever, in a word, be the objections, which,
in the spirit of theoretical criticism, may be made
to the " Orlando," no poem exists more richly
deserving the popularity it has enjoyed through
successive generations. Imagination never gave
birth to a greater, or more splendid variety of
scenes, incidents, and characters, and never did
poet hold the minds of his readers more completely
captive to the charm of his song. At one time, we
seem carried by some magic car over wide-stretch-
ing countries, varied with every wonder and glory

ARIOSTO. 87

of Nature ; at others, led by a hermit, or the
singing of a solitary bird, through green and quiet
dells ; then again transported through the air, and,
making our passage amid gorgeous clouds, we find
ourselves on tented battle-fields, or surrounded by
throngs of dames or barons, in the hall of some
lordly castle. Nor does the charm of the poem
consist only in this wild variety and brilliancy of
the objects with which it regales the fancy. Both
the sentiments and incidents are often exquisitely
tender and impassioned : gaiety and splendour give
way to pathos, and the music of the verse be-
comes as deep and plaintive as it was before light
and flowing.

Ariosto is said to be remarkably unsuccessful in
the speeches which he puts into the mouths of his
principal characters, and to fail altogether of dra-
matic power. This is not a little singular, as he
was devoted, from the very commencement of his
literary career, to dramatic composition ; but, de-
veloping his plot by description and narrative, the
addition of dialogue became unnecessary, and was
consequently, whenever introduced, cold and un-
impressive. The remark, perhaps, may be found
to hold good in other instances as well as in that
of our poet, it being rarely the case that an author

88 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

who possesses the superior faculty of represent-
ing the workings or effects of passion as nature
represents them, that is, by a few mysteriously
significant and comprehensive signs, will employ
narrative for that purpose. But, if Ariosto was
not successful in his speeches, or in that power
which, almost without a metaphor, makes the
thoughts of the poet breathe and his words burn,
he was equal, perhaps superior, to any writer that
ever lived, in giving a dramatic interest to his
narrative. In most cases, romantic poetry appeals
almost solely to the fancy; but Ariosto, by the
exquisite management of his scenes and incidents,
and even by the colouring of his landscapes, takes
hold of our feelings as well as our curiosity, and
makes us forget that he is but narrating, from the
deep and impressive pathos of the narrative.

In the celebrated controversy which was origi-
nated shortly after the publication of the " Gerusa-
lemme Liberata," by the two famous Italian critics,
Pellegrino and Salviati, the respective merits of
Ariosto and Tasso were disputed with a warmth and
display of learning rarely witnessed even in literary
controversies. The conclusion to which most per-
sons probably would come, after reading either the
poems or the criticisms is, that while the Geru-

ARIOSTO. 89

salemme, by the loftiness of its style and the re-
gularity of its plan, may claim superiority as an
epic, the Orlando Furioso is more fitted to cap-
tivate the fancy by the almost infinite variety of
its incidents and the exquisite beauty of its
imagery. It would be difficult indeed to discover
any reason for the endeavours which have been so
often made to depreciate the merit of one of these
noble poems to enhance that of the other. Few
readers who can enter at all into their spirit would
wish that Ariosto had confined his brilliant fancy,
rejoicing in its fertility, like a child in its feeling of
health and activity, by rules ; or that Tasso, whose
spirit was naturally calm, majestic, and meditative,
had encouraged it to wanton in unbounded mirth
and freedom.

Of the other works of our distinguished author,
namely, his Plays and Satires, it will be sufficient
to observe, that the former claim the honour of
being the first regular comedies produced in Italy,
and that, being written in imitation of the old
comedies, they exhibit, in many of their scenes,
the humour of Plautus and the delicacy of Terence.
His Satires abound in excellent sentiments, and
contain many humorous sketches, but they fail in
strength and poignancy ; and, both from their style

90 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

and contents, might be more properly termed epis-
tles. The miscellaneous pieces from his hand,
both Latin and Italian, are characterised by the
imagination and elegance of language which ap-
pear in the Orlando; and several of his epigrams
are remarkable for point and beauty of expression.
To these productions we may add a dialogue en-
titled L'Erbolato, several letters, and the five new
cantos which he wrote for the Orlando, but which
are generally considered very inferior to the rest,
and were never assigned their proper place in the
poem. He also left behind him several unfinished
ajjl unpublished works; but great as is the re-
putation enjoyed by the Orlando Furioso, the other
productions of its author have never acquired
much public attention.

ILfft of

Jkmtio.

PIETRO BEMBO was born at Venice on the
20th of May 1470. His father, Bernardo Bembo,
a patrician, enjoyed many important posts in the
Government, and was noted for his learning, and
his mother, Elena Marcella, was of an ancient and
noble family. At the age of eight he was carried
to Florence, whither his father was sent as am-
bassador, and thus from his earliest years became
imbued with a love of the pure Tuscan dialect. His
stay, however, at Florence was short, as his father
was recalled about two years afterwards, and he
was then placed under the instruction of Alessan-
dro Urticio, with whom he prosecuted his study of

94 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

the classics. His time was thus occupied till he
reached his eighteenth year, when, on Bernardo's
being sent as ambassador to Rome, he was left to
settle several affairs at Venice, that he might con-
tract those habits of business which it was thought
would be of important service to him in future
years. The principal object for which his atten-
tion was required on his father's departure was
a law-suit, but having come in contact with his
opponent on the Rialto, a dispute arose about some
document which Pietro had to present to the
judges, and proceeding from words to blows, his
furious antagonist drove a knife through his hand,
and thus fulfilled a dream which, it is said, had
terrified Marcella the previous night with appre-
hensions of the evil which actually occurred.*

On his return from Rome, Bernardo carried
his son with him to Podesta, where he remained
about two years. He continued his studies, but
not, it would seem, to any great extent, as it was
only by the persuasion of Alessandro Urticio that
he was induced to turn his attention to Greek lite-
rature, which that worthy preceptor assured him
was an indispensable acquirement to persons who
intended to distinguish themselves by their learning

* Beccatelli. Apostolo Zeno.

BEMBO. 95

or eloquence. Pietro, however, who was never want-
ing in ambition, attended to Alessandro's representa-
tions, and eagerly besought his father to allow him
the necessary means for pursuing this new branch
of education. But to study it in the ordinary
manner, or with such opportunities as his own
city afforded, would not satisfy him, and he obtain-
ed Bernardo's permission to proceed to Messina, in
Sicily, where the famous Costantino Lascari was
teaching Greek with great success. Accordingly,
on the 30th of March, 1492, and in the twen-
ty-second year of his age, he set out from Venice
in the company of his friend Angelo Gabrielli, and
proceeding by land to Naples, embarked there for
Messina, which they reached, after a dangerous
voyage, on the 4th of May.

The ardour with which he laboured during the
two years and a half he remained in Sicily, was
equal to the resolution with which he commenced
his course, and it was his common custom to sacri-
fice his nights as well as days to study.* His im-
provement was in proportion to his application, and
he not only read the language with fluency, but
composed in it, at the same time preserving his
command over Latin by regular exercises, among

* Casa.

96 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

which particular mention is made of a little work
on Mount Etna, which he dedicated to the com-
panion of his studies.

On his return to Italy, his extensive knowledge,
and the facility and elegance with which he com-
posed in the two languages, acquired him the
acquaintance of the most learned men of his coun-
try, and his fame spread rapidly over every part
of Italy.

It is not precisely known in what manner he
passed his time immediately after his return home,
but it is supposed that he spent a part of the in-
terim between his return and his going to Ferrara,
four years afterwards, at Padua, then celebrated
for its school of philosophy.* However this may
be, it was the earnest wish of Bernardo that his
son should devote himself to the service of his
country, in which his eminent talents would have
objects worthy of their exertion. Pietro had little
inclination to mix in the confusion of political
contests ; his mind was now too deeply imbued with
the love of poetry and philosophy to take pleasure
in any thing else, and the reputation he had al-
ready acquired by letters, tended still more to
confine his ambition to the acquirement of honour

* Beccatelli.

BEMBO. 97

as a man of learning : but his father's request had
great weight with him in forming a decision on the
subject, and in this state of uneasiness and doubt
he went one day to church, praying that God
would direct him to that way of life which might
be most useful. It happened that the Gospel of
the day was the 21st chapter of St. John, in which
the words occur that our Lord addressed to his
zealous apostle Peter, " Follow me." Bembo took
the sentence as applicable to his present condition,
and thenceforth determined to apply himself to
sacred studies.*

Some time after this occurrence, his father was
sent to Ferrara, and as the Princes of that country
were as celebrated as any in Europe for their ad-
miration of learning, he was followed by Pietro,
who had the satisfaction of enjoying the favour of
the Duke Alfonso and his consort Lucretia Borgia,
and the distinguished men of their court, among
whom were Hercules Strozzi, Jacomo Sadoleto,
and Antonio Tebaldeo. In the society of these
scholars he continued his studies with undiminish-
ed industry, and availed himself of the lectures of
Niccolo Leoniceno, who then taught philosophy at
Ferrara. He also completed a work he had com-

* Casa Apostolus Zenus apud Casam.
VOL. II. F

LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

menced some time before, and to which he gave
the title of " Gli Asolani," from the name of a villa
where he resided when he began the poem. It
consisted of dialogues on love, and was written in
such elegant Latin verse, that many persons be-
lieved it to be the fragment of some ancient com-
position.

In the year 1500, he returned to his native
city, where he took up his settled residence, occa-
sionally spending a short time with his friends at
Ferrara, and especially with Strozzi, in whose villa,
known by the name of Ostellato, or Villa Strozziana,
he passed many agreeable months of study and
retirement. Much of his time at Venice was oc-
cupied with the employment furnished him by his
office of secretary in the Aldine academy, to which
he had the honour of being elected soon after his
return from Ferrara, and he thus lived in a manner
sufficiently satisfactory to a man of literary tastes
and habits. But unhappily the fortune of his father
was too limited to support him and his brothers
in unprofitable pursuits, and Pietro, therefore, re-
solved to seek promotion in some other State,
where learning was a more valuable commodity
than among the merchants of Venice.

In conformity with this determination, he pro-

BEMBO. 99

ceeded to Rome, where he stayed about three
months, and then went to Urbino, where he met
with a gracious reception from the Duke Guido-
baldo, and formed a strict intimacy with Giovanni
de' Medici, afterwards Leo X., and his brother
Giuliano, who, with many other distinguished Flo-
rentines, were then living in exile. His father,
however, made another effort to recall his attention
to politics, but in vain ; and he is reported to have
persevered in remaining from home, because an
astrologer had told him that he would be more
favoured and advanced by strangers than by his
own countrymen. In 1512, in company with Giu-
liano de' Medici he again went to Rome, and
shortly after his arrival acquired the esteem of
Julius the Second, by deciphering a book sent to
the Pontiff from Dacia, and which he had as yet
found no one able to explain. His reward was a
rich benefice at Bologna; but not long after this the
Cardinal de' Medici was elected Pope, and before
he left the conclave, the vote of which had raised
him to the throne, he named Bembo his secretary,
with an annual salary of three thousand scudi, and
his friend Sadoleto for his associate in the office.

The favour which he enjoyed with Leo at the
commencement of his pontificate, he retained to its
F 2

100 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

conclusion; and the manner in which he and his
companion performed the duties of their office,
was universally commended. It has been seen
that the accomplished Petrarch rejected the ap-
pointment of Apostolic secretary, alleging that he
was unable to write in the plain and concise style
requisite for a man of business. There was, it
is not improbable, much truth in this assertion,
though employed only as an excuse to save himself
from the galling yoke to which the situation would
have exposed him. Bembo and Sadoleto were
better scholars than poets, and the elegant brevity
and propriety of their epistles deserved the praise
they obtained. But besides acting as secretary,
the former was repeatedly sent on different mis-
sions, which no one but a confidential servant of the
Pope could execute; and for his exertions, though
not uniformly crowned with success, he was re-
warded with benefices, of which the revenue
amounted to three thousand florins of gold.

In May or June 1519, he had the misfortune to
lose his father, who expired before he could arrive
at Venice to receive his last blessing. His afflic-
tion at this circumstance was deep, nor was his
sorrow lightened, it appears, at his discovering that
the circumstances of Bernardo were too embar-

BEMBO. 101

rassed to give him any hope of receiving the for-
tune he had expected. This disappointment, how-
ever, did not prevent his bestowing on his niece, at
whose nuptials he presided, a dowry of three thou-
sand florins; after which he returned to Rome, and
applied himself with such unceasing perseverance
to business during the day, and study at night,
that he fell into an illness from which his physi-
cians almost despaired of his recovery.* At the
persuasion of the Pope and other friends, he re-
solved to try the efficacy of the baths of Padua,
which had the desired effect; but he was no sooner
restored to health, than he lost his patron Leo, and
considering this as a divine monition to return to
the peaceful occupations of literature, he deter-
mined to bid adieu to courts, and accordingly hired
an excellent house at Padua, where he fixed his
permanent abode.f

In the furnishing of this residence and that of
his favourite rural retreat, Villabozza, in the neigh-
bourhood, he expended considerable sums of money,
and exercised his taste in collecting works of art,
which it was become the fashion of the wealthy to
see around them. While his library was supplied
with the rarest manuscripts, his cabinets were

* Beccatelli. t Idem.

102 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

crowded with the relics of Egypt and Greece, and
learned men from all parts of the country sought
his mansion as one of the most elegant retreats
of learning and philosophy in Italy. Thus pro-
vided with an ample income, and possessing all the
means for prosecuting his favourite studies with
success, he found himself in the enjoyment of that
enviable repose and comfort which form the bright-
est prospect the imagination of a literary man can
create. Instead of having to compose either ora-
tions or epistles on matters of business, he was
free to follow the original inclination of his mind,
and he produced at this period the chief of his
most esteemed pieces both in Latin and Italian.

At the election of Clement VII. he returned to
Rome, but only for the purpose of showing his
respect to the new Pope, or, in the words of his
Italian biographers, " to kiss his foot." He was
attacked during his brief visit with another serious
illness, and probably on this account hastened back
to Padua quicker than he otherwise would. The
first object which engaged his attention on his re-
turn, was the publication of a volume of prose pieces
which he had presented to Clement in manuscript.
This took place at the end of 1524, or in the begin-
ning of the following year ; and his reputation for

BEMBO. 103

learning and ability was so great in Venice, that on
the death of Andrea Navagero, who had been ap-
pointed to write the history of that Republic, he
was chosen to perform the important and honour-
able task.

Though at the time of his receiving this mark of
respect from his countrymen he was sixty years
old, neither his faculties nor his enthusiasm for
study had suffered decay. The course of his lite-
rary pursuits had not yet led him to historical
composition, but this in no way deterred him from
the undertaking ; and choosing the Commentaries
of Caesar as his model in respect to style, he
began his work with the zeal and spirit of a
youthful scholar. He suffered nothing during its
progress to divert his mind from the proper per-
formance of the design, and it was not till the
death of Clement or the accession of Paul III. that
he intermitted the inquiries in which he was now
so deeply involved.

The Church of Rome was at this time, even
according to the confession of its most resolute
advocates, disfigured to a frightful degree by the
vices of all orders of its clergy. Paul, therefore,
seeing the necessity of seeking some remedy for
the dangers with which it was threatened, resolved

104 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

to begin by introducing into the college of Cardi-
nals men of approved ability. The Republic of
Venice, in the mean while, had obtained his per-
mission to name some eminent individual of that
State for the high honour of the purple. So many,
however, were the candidates who presented thenj-
selves, that the Senate found it difficult to choose
between them, and at last requested the Pope
himself to make the nomination. Paul, on the
recommendation of Cardinal Contarini, immediately
named Bembo, who, it is said, was perfectly un-
aware of what was passing in his favour. The
statement, perhaps, as to his ignorance and uncon-
cern about this affair, ought to be received with
some hesitation. Padua was not so far from Ve-
nice that a man like Bembo was likely to remain
unacquainted with what was passing in its coun-
cils ; and there is little reason to believe, from any
passage in his life, that he would regard an ap-
pointment of either dignity or profit with indiffer-
ence. But whatever might be his feelings on the
subject originally, they were speedily put in mo-
tion by the manner in which his nomination was
received by a strong party at Rome. So far from
owning him to be a fit person for the dignity,
they asserted that his writings were more like

BEMBO. 105

those of a heathen than of a Christian believer ; and
that instead of his adorning the high station by the
purity of his character, it would be disgraced by
the known disregard of which he was guilty to the
laws of the Scriptures and the Church.

In explanation of this accusation it must be
mentioned, that Bembo had given very substantial
cause for the severity with which his character
was treated. He had for several years not only
enjoyed one of the chief posts in the Pontifical go-
vernment, but been in possession of many large and
important benefices, and nearly the whole of this
time he lived in open connexion with a mistress,
by whom he had three children, and whose praises
he publicly celebrated in his verses. If the charac-
ter, indeed, of this man be considered, it will enable
us to form some idea of what the Roman Church
must have been at the period to which we allude.
The few persons who opposed his election to the
purple are generally represented as his personal
enemies or rivals ; but with the exception of these
his nomination was received with the highest ap-
plause, and he was regarded as fitted to become
one of the greatest ornaments of the sacred col-
lege. But what virtues, it may be fairly asked,
had this celebrated writer exhibited to merit being
F 5

106 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

placed among the " eminentissimi" of a Christian
Church ? Or in what manner had he shown his
zeal for the establishment, except in seeking the
richest benefices it could confer, and living upon
their revenues in ease and luxury ?

The opposition, however, which was made to
his election roused his indignation, and he replied
to the invectives of his enemies by writing a long
letter to the Pope in defence of his conduct and
character, which had the effect of confirming the
Pontiff in his original intentions, and he was cre-
ated a Cardinal on March 24, 1539. The reception
he met with from his brother Cardinals was such as
might be expected by so great a favourite with the
Pope ; and he began his career as a prince of the
Church with the most flattering prospects. His
friends Sadoleto, Contarino, Morono> and Cortesio,
had already been advanced to the same station,
and he enjoyed in the company of these distin-
guished men the first fruits of his good fortune.

But it has to be mentioned to the credit of
Bembo, that shortly after his receiving the purple
he entered the priesthood, and determined thence-
forward to devote his attention more exclusively
to the duties of his high station in the Church.
Though he continued, therefore, his " History of

BEMBO. 107

Venice," he now began the serious study of theo-
logy, and read the works of St. Gregory and other
esteemed authors on divinity. This attention to
his profession was not left unrewarded, and the
bishopric of Gubbio becoming vacant he was ap-
pointed to that diocese in July 1541. Shortly
after this he returned to Padua, where he re-
mained some months; and was again resident at
the Pontifical court the following year, when he
received the additional preferment of the parish
of Santa Maria in the diocese of Trevigi.

We next find him occupied with the nuptials
of his daughter Elena, whom he gave with a con-
siderable dowry to Pietro Gradenigo ; after which
he proceeded to his diocese of Gubbio, where
he remained till his desire of popularity, and his
readiness to meet the demonstrations of affection
he received from his people with corresponding
hospitality, involved him in debt; and he was on
the eve of falling . into the most unpleasant em-
barrassments when Paul bestowed upon him the
bishopric of Bergamo and recalled him to Rome.
He remained there from this period till his death,
preserving the entire favour of the Pope, and of
by far the greater number of his colleagues in the
sacred college. So high, indeed, was the repu-

108 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

tation he enjoyed, that he would probably have
been raised to the Papacy had he lived long
enough. But, according to his eulogists, he was
as far from desiring this honour as he was from
wishing to be elected a Cardinal, and he is reported
to have told a friend that he would not accept the
dignity should it ever be offered him.

His constitution had for some time before his
death been greatly injured by continual attacks of
the gout ; and a blow he gave himself in passing a
doorway bringing on a slow fever, his health grew
daily worse till the 18th of January 1547, when he
expired, leaving his son Torquato his heir, and
two Cardinals, Farnese and another, the protectors
of his literary remains.

Cardinal Bembo's reputation depends entirely
upon the classical elegance of his taste, which
without genius, or the higher attributes of mind,
made him conspicuous among his contemporaries,
and has handed his name down to posterity as
that of one of the chief revivers of modern learn-
ing. His Latinity was considered purer than that
of any preceding Italian scholar, and he has re-
ceived the praise of being the first successful
imitator of Cicero and other admired writers of the
Augustan age. In his native language he was

BEMBO. 109

one of the most successful of Petrarch's numerous
followers; but the reader will not require to be
told that when Bembo has received this the high-
est praise to which he could lay claim, his station
must be very low among the great men with whom
we are concerned. That he exercised considerable
influence on the literary taste of the age there can
be little doubt ; but an imitator, however successful,
or whatever be the object of his imitation, must
never be ranked as the same species of intellectual
being as he, who either by the inspiration of genius,
or the exercise of a noble moral energy, has seen
truth and beauty face to face himself, and not
merely in the mirror of another's language. To
those who have a right feeling of respect for the
powers of the human mind, or wish well to the
literature of a country, such men as Bembo will
never appear worthy of great esteem. Virgil and
Cicero, and the rest of the classics, cannot be too
much studied or admired; but it is not by their
lucid style or the musical concatenation of their
phrases that they have held the hearts of genera-
tions in subjection ; these were but the accidents
of the power on which their glory depended — the
calmness of the surface resulting from the depth
of the stream. Their imitators, on the contrary?

110 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

were correct and elegant in language, because they
made that the first and almost only object of their
attention ; and the evil was, that in proportion as
they gained admirers, readers ceased to place the
proper value on originality of thought, and writers
to strive after any higher excellence or any nobler
sphere of inquiry, than what had been already
attained or explored. Hence the barrenness of the
poetical literature of Italy during the succeeding
age, and hence the decline of English poetry after
the time of Pope. Bembo, and all such writers,
while they soften and regulate a language, sa-
crifice what is divine to what is human, that is,
thought and invention to style ; and do the same
as if they cut down an American forest to make
way for a greenhouse, or dried a sea to a lake that
it might be safe for a pleasure-barge.

The principal works of Bembo are, 1. The His-
tory of Venice, mentioned above, and which did
not appear till four years after the death of the
author. The style is elegant, but has been very
justly found fault with for its close imitation of
Cicero, and an affectation of classical phraseology,
where it was manifestly improper for the subject,
and inadequate to the sense it was intended to
convey. Such instances as the following are cited

BEMBO. Ill

in support of this objection; — the word Dea em-
ployed for the Virgin Mary — persuasio for theolo-
gical faith — the phrase aqua et igni interdictio for
excommunication — and, respecting the election of
the Pope, Deorum immortaliwn beneficio. He is
also accused of being negligent in the chronology
putting the days of the month on which particular
events 'took place but omitting the year. 2. His
Treatises, or rather Dialogues, on the Vulgar Lan-
guage ; by which he obtained the credit of being
one of the first writers, if not the first, who re-
duced Italian to grammatical rules. 3. Gli Aso-
lani, already mentioned. 4. Le Rime. 5. Lettere.
6. Proposto a nome di Leone X. al Senato Vini-
ziano. 7. Epistolarum Leonis X. P. M. nomine
scriptarum Libri XVI. 8. Epistolarum Famili-
arum Libri VI. 9. De Guido Ubaldo Feretico,
deque Elisabetha Gonzagia Urbini Ducibus Liber
ad Nicolaum Theapolum. 10. De Virgilii Culice
et Terentii Fabulis Liber ad HerculenT Strozium.

11. De ^Etna Liber ad Angelum Gabrielem.

12. De Imitatione. 13. Carmina. Besides these
printed works he also left several which are still
in manuscript, and will probably ever remain so.
As far as subject is concerned, however, they
would be much more interesting than most of those

112 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

of which I have given the titles ; one is, Provincia-
lium Poetarum Carmina, et Vitae, a work which it
appears he had many opportunities of rendering
highly valuable, as he possessed several manu-
scripts and other materials for investigating the

subject.*

* Mazzuchelli.

Cfje fcffe of ^Tittorta CMonna.

116 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

it takes the form and substance of the heart, so
when it exists naturally in woman, unmixed with
affectation or an ambitious pretension to learning,
it only speaks the language of feminine affections ;
the power it gives being chiefly precious to her
because she is the better able to express the
emotions which elevate her mind, and to give an
enduring existence to names and objects which she
would not have perish.

Vittoria Colonna was born in the castle of Ma-
rino, in the year 1490. Her father was Fabricio
Colonna, Grand Constable of Naples, and her mo-
ther Anna di Montefeltro, daughter of the Duke
of Urbino. The beauty of her person, and the
many indications she gave of superior mental
powers, were remarkable from her infancy,' and
she was scarcely four years old when her parents
affianced her to the son of Don Alphonso d' Avalos,
Marquis of Pescara, a child of the same age as
herself. As her years increased, her beauty and
genius became the objects of universal admiration,
and her hand was sought in marriage by the Dukes
of Savoy and Braganza. But the honour of her
parents and her own affection for her affianced
lover, prevented any breach of the original con-
tract ; and in their seventeenth year their marriage

VITTORIA COLONNA. 117

was solemnized with all the splendour becoming
the union of two of the noblest families in Italy.*

The desire of distinction which animated her
husband, Ferdinando Francesco, separated them
after a brief enjoyment of domestic happiness.
Full of hope that the approaching contest between
the King of France and the Venetians with their
respective allies would furnish him with the op-
portunity of exercising his valour, he set out for
the royal camp, and at his parting with Vittoria
received from her hands a superb pavilion and
an embroidered standard bearing the inscription
" Nunquam minus otiosus, quam cum otiosus erat
ille," originally said in reference to Vespasian.
Besides these she presented him with some leaves
of palm in token of her hope that he would return
crowned with honour, and then bade him farewell,
suffering herself to be consoled by the hope of
seeing him serve his country in a manner becoming
his name and character.

The first tidings she received from him encou-
raged her to believe that their most sanguine
wishes would be fulfilled. He was chosen Captain-
General of the Imperial cavalry, and thus placed
in a situation in which his ability had full scope for

* Giam. Rota.

116 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

it takes the form and substance of the heart, so
when it exists naturally in woman, unmixed with
affectation or an ambitious pretension to learning,
it only speaks the language of feminine affections ;
the power it gives being chiefly precious to her
because she is the better able to express the
emotions which elevate her mind, and to give an
enduring existence to names and objects which she
would not have perish.

Vittoria Colonna was born in the castle of Ma-
rino, in the year 1490. Her father was Fabricio
Colonna, Grand Constable of Naples, and her mo-
ther Anna di Montefeltro, daughter of the Duke
of Urbino. The beauty of her person, and the
many indications she gave of superior mental
powers, were remarkable from her infancy,' and
she was scarcely four years old when her parents
affianced her to the son of Don Alphonso d' Avalos,
Marquis of Pescara, a child of the same age as
herself. As her years increased, her beauty and
genius became the objects of universal admiration,
and her hand was sought in marriage by the Dukes
of Savoy and Braganza. But the honour of her
parents and her own affection for her affianced
lover, prevented any breach of the original con-
tract ; and in their seventeenth year their marriage

VITTORIA COLONNA. 117

was solemnized with all the splendour becoming
the union of two of the noblest families in Italy.*

The desire of distinction which animated her
husband, Ferdinando Francesco, separated them
after a brief enjoyment of domestic happiness.
Full of hope that the approaching contest between
the King of France and the Venetians with their
respective allies would furnish him with the op-
portunity of exercising his valour, he set out for
the royal camp, and at his parting with Vittoria
received from her hands a superb pavilion and
an embroidered standard bearing the inscription
" Nunquam minus otiosus, quam cum otiosus erat
ille," originally said in reference to Vespasian.
Besides these she presented him with some leaves
of palm in token of her hope that he would return
crowned with honour, and then bade him farewell,
suffering herself to be consoled by the hope of
seeing him serve his country in a manner becoming
his name and character.

The first tidings she received from him encou-
raged her to believe that their most sanguine
wishes would be fulfilled. He was chosen Captain-
General of the Imperial cavalry, and thus placed
in a situation in which his ability had full scope for

* Giam. Rota.

118 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

action ; but a few months after their prospects were
sadly changed. In the battle of Ravenna, while
fighting at the head of his troops, he was taken
prisoner and conveyed to Milan. He was, how-
ever, confined only a short time, during which he
amused himself by composing a Dialogo d' Amore,
addressed to his wife, and replete with lamenta-
tions at the hard fate which separated them.
Vittoria made a device from the ideas contained
in this composition, and inclosed a little Cupid in
a circle formed by the figure of a serpent and bear-
ing this line,

" Quern peperit virtus, prudentia servet amorem."

Francesco's deliverance from confinement did
not enable him to return to his consort, who conti-
nued to occupy her time with literature, and the
correspondence they had unceasingly kept up since
his departure. In order, however, to have the
opportunity of occasionally seeing him, Vittoria
removed from Ischia to Naples, where she was
joined by her husband whenever the duties of his
high station in the army would allow of his ab-
sence. But these meetings were rare and brief,
and her days were still employed in reading
the best productions of ancient and modern times ;

VITTORIA COLONNA. 119

or in composing those poems which obtained
her so great a reputation throughout Italy. The
subject of her muse was almost always the actions
of her husband ; and Bullart observes, " that she
sang his virtues in Tuscan verses so elevated and
worthy of their subject, that she seemed to be a
new Muse destined to publish the renown of that
great Captain, and to inspire the praises due to
warlike merit."

In the memorable battle of Pavia, which saw
the heroic but unfortunate Francis I. fall into the
hands of his enemies, the Marquis of Pescara
reaped the chief honours of the day, and there was
every reason to suppose that he would be imme-
diately rewarded by the Emperor in a manner
befitting the actions he had performed. But the
envy of those about him was the chief consequence
of his victory, and the opposite party conceiving
hopes of forming a new league against the Em-
peror, thought that he was in a fit mood to be
bribed to espouse their cause. Gieronimo Morone
was the agent employed to sound his opinions on
the subject; and were I writing the life of Fran-
cesco instead of Vittoria it would be worth while
to repeat the ingenious arguments he employed on
the occasion. The reward, however, held out to

120 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

the Marquis to engage his compliance, was the
kingdom of Naples, which Morone asserted the
Pope and the allies would without doubt confer
upon him, besides which, it was added, he would
obtain eternal honour by freeing afflicted Italy from
the misfortunes she was then suffering, and thus se-
cure to himself a wealthy kingdom, the command
of a noble army, and an immortal name.*

Francesco, though of a high and honourable
disposition, yielded to the practices of Morone
and his party ; but Vittoria was tremblingly alive
to the reputation of her husband, and in a letter
written to him at this period she expresses her-
self in the strongest manner on the subject.
She represented to him that he had acquired a
glory more illustrious than could be conferred
by kingdoms or lofty titles — a glory won by ho-
nourable fidelity and noble virtue, and which
would serve as a perpetual inheritance of praise to
his descendants ; that there is nothing so lofty in
royalty which may not be easily surpassed by the
loftiness of a perfect virtue, and that she there-
fore desired to be the wife not of a king but of
a captain who was not only mighty by his arm in
war but who even in peace, by the great honour

* Paolo Giovio.

VITTORIA COLONNA. 121

of his just and invincible mind, knew how to con-
quer the greatest kings.

Neither the exhortations however of Vittoria, nor
his own sense of right, prevailed upon the Marquis
to resist the temptations with which he was as-
sailed ; but the wounds he had received in battle
and his imprudent excess in drinking water while
suffering extreme heat and fatigue, had made such
ravages on his frame that he found it necessary
to warn his wife of his dangerous condition. On
receiving this alarming intelligence she immedi-
ately set out for Milan, and as she passed through
Rome was entertained there with the most honour-
able distinctions ; but, continuing her journey as
rapidly as possible, she had only reached Viterbo
when she was met by a messenger bearing the
intelligence that her husband had breathed his
last.

Francesco with his dying lips had recommended
Vittoria to the protection of his cousin and the
inheritor of his estates, the Marquis del Vasto ;
but her grief at first admitted of no consolation,
and she fell into a profound melancholy, which for
a short time deprived her of the use of reason.
Her despondency, however, at length gave way to
a milder sorrow, and she found in her favourite

VOL. II. G

122 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

studies a relief to afflictions which would have
wholly overwhelmed a mind less fruitful in sources
of consolation. Many who knew her conceived
it unfit that so beautiful a woman, only thirty-five
years of age, should pass the remainder of her life
in retirement ; and her brothers, it is said, strongly
persuaded her to marry one of the many princes
who endeavoured to obtain her hand. But to all
their arguments she uniformly replied, that though
her husband might seem dead to others, he was
still living and always present to her. Her
poems breathe the same sentiments — every thought
which passed through her mind seems either to
have sprung from the remembrance of her hus-
band, or the instant it rose on her mind to have
become connected with it; her verses were thus
rendered so true to natural feeling, that it has been
observed by more than one Italian writer, she car-
ried away the palm from all her contemporaries in
the expression of the affections.

For seven years she thus struggled with her
sorrow, finding a greater source of comfort in
honouring the memory of her husband than in any
other employment; but her affliction still pressed
too heavily to be either removed or considerably
diminished by her present endeavours. Religion

VITTORIA COLONNA. 123

alone offered her the means of lightening her
distress without disturbing the sacred objects she
had enshrined in her memory. She might have
mixed in the world, and its amusements might have
distracted her thoughts from the painful feelings
which oppressed her ; but her fidelity to her hus-
band's name forbade her doing any thing which
should render him less present to her mind, and
she preferred enduring the heaviest griefs to soft-
ening them by means which might interfere with
her resolution of being as faithful to him when
dead as while living. But in the offices of religion
she found, at the same time, a support to her
afflicted mind, and indications of a futurity which
authorized the feelings that had hitherto been only
like the dreamings of fancy ; giving, therefore, a
freer flight to her Muse, she now began to write on
subjects connected with divine truths, and com-
posed a great variety of canzone and sonnets, to
which she gave the title of " Rime Spiritual!."

In the spring of 1537 she made a journey to
Lucca, and from thence to Ferrara, with the in-
tention of spending some time there. While re-
siding in the latter city she is said to have formed
a design of travelling to Jerusalem, and would
certainly have put it in execution but for the
G 2

124 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

Marquis del Vasto, who prudently forbade her ex-
posing herself- to such an enterprise. As some
compensation, however, for her disappointment in
this respect, she proceeded to Rome, where she
arrived about the month of April 1538. The
reputation she had acquired by her writings and
the nobleness of her character, made her an object
of still greater reverence than she was on her
former visit, when she entered the city as the wife
of the most celebrated captain of Italy. Among
the many distinguished men who sought to express
their veneration for her talents and exalted cha-
racter were Cardinal Pole and Cardinal Contarini,
between whom and Vittoria there existed a con-
stant friendship and correspondence till it was ter-
minated by death. Bembo was also another of the
personages who paid her similar respect, and it is
said that it was in some degree to her influence
with the Pontiff that he owed his elevation to the
purple. Of the respect, indeed, with which her
opinions were regarded at the Papal Court a cu-
rious proof is to be found in a letter from Molza to
his son, in which, speaking of some business which
required great interest, he says, that their success
would greatly depend upon her expected visit to
Rome ; that he knew of no person who could

VITTORIA COLONNA. 125

render them greater assistance, and that by her
authority and good-will she would probably be
able to effect more than the letters of either the
Pope or the Cardinals.* It is also certain that
she was the munificent friend of many learned
men in distress, whose necessities she relieved
either by her purse or the exercise of her powerful
interest.

As she advanced in years she became more and
more desirous of escaping entirely from the world,
and in March 1541 she finally resolved on as-
suming the religious habit. In conformity with
this determination she entered the monastery Di
Suore, in Orvietto, where, however, she remained
only a few months, but took up her settled abode
in that of Saint Catherine in Viterbo. Little, it
appears, is known respecting her from this pe-
riod, and we are not to be surprised that the
life of a female immured within the walls of a
convent should present few circumstances re-
quiring record. It is, however, well attested
that, though retired from the world, her charity
lost nothing of its activity, and that none of her
sisters surpassed her in the purity or fervour
of their devotion. In August 1542 she was still

* Giam. Rota.

126 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

resident in the same monastery, as is proved by a
letter of that date ;* but at the beginning of 1547
she had returned to Rome, and was living in the
Palazzo Cesarini, where she was seized with a
mortal malady, and died at the end of February in
the year above mentioned.

Few writers have received greater eulogiums
than Vittoria Colonna. Nearly nine closely printed
pages of Rota's edition are taken up with quota-
tions from the testimonies of learned men in her
favour. In the first impression of her poems,
published at Parma in 1538, the epithet Divina is
applied to her name, and in that which appeared
at Venice, about two years after, the term Diva.
Crescembini, in speaking of her writings, says, that
" the barbarity of the previous age had received
no greater blow than that which was given
it by this valorous lady, in whom not only the
Muses but the Sciences seemed to have taken up
their abode, as if Heaven had placed its choicest
treasures where they would be most safely pre-
served." Another author, Giammateo Toscano,
says that she was second to no poet but Petrarch ;
and Francesco Agostino, that there is not an Italian
writer of that age, whether in prose or verse, who

* Giam. Rota.

VITTORIA COLONNA. 127

has not celebrated and commended her above all
others of her sex ; while to the testimony of these
critics may be added the far more valuable one
of Ariosto, who has more than once mentioned her
in his poems as the glory of Italy and of her sex.

Some allowance must be made in these remarks
for the hyperboles in which the writers of former
days were fond of indulging. Vittoria Colonna was
doubtless a woman of considerable genius, and of
a character which added the lustre of virtue, to
that of a noble intellect. But her writings, though
possessing many graces blended with the power-
ful feelings of sorrow that for the greater part of
her life oppressed her spirit, must have been
much more various both in style and invention to
preserve her in the high rank to which her con-
temporaries' raised her. Few poems, however, de-
dicated to the praise of an individual, are equal
to those which this admirable woman wrote in
honour of her husband's actions and memory, and
there are equally few which with so much piety of
thought combine so much genuine poetic feeling.

of Hietro ^rettnot

G 5

ffrettno.

THIS celebrated satirist, more feared in his
time than either kings or conquerors, obtained
from his contemporaries the epithet of the Di-
vine, from the celebrity, or perhaps the licen-
tious freedom of some of his compositions, and of
the Scourge of Princes from the severity of others.
His proper name he owed to the place of his
birth, and that he ever acquired even the ele-
ments of learning appears to have been a matter of
chance, and was entirely the fruit of his quick
and precocious intellect. He was born at Arezzo,
on the night of the 19th or 20th of April 1492,
or as his Italian biographers express it, in the

134 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

show what his feelings still were respecting the
superstitions of his countrymen ; but as there was
no proof of extraordinary wit or judgment in what
he did in this instance, it can only be regarded as
an act of petulant levity. There was exposed on
the walls of one of the churches in the town a
picture of the Virgin Mary kneeling at the feet of
Christ, with her arms extended in adoration. Are-
tino contemplated it in the midst of an adoring
multitude, but as soon as the streets were clear
he returned, and secretly delineated a lute be-
tween the extended arms of the Virgin.

Notwithstanding the attractions of Perugia,
and the advantages he enjoyed through the at-
tention of several learned men whose notice he
had won by different literary essays, he made
such slow advances in improving his means of
support, that he found it necessary to seek some
other field for the exercise of his talents. Rome
offered the greatest temptation to his adven-
turous disposition, and he set out for that city,
being obliged by his poverty to make the journey
on foot, and carrying nothing from Perugia but
the clothes on his back. It is not known how he
proposed to better his fortune in Rome, but it is
probable that he carried recommendations with

PIETRO ARETINO. 135

him from the acquaintances he had lately formed,
as soon after his arrival in the capital he became
attached to the house of a wealthy and powerful
merchant, Agostini Chigii. The nature of the situ-
ation which he held is also as little known as what
his intentions were on leaving Perugia ; but it is
seldom that a man like Aretino remains long with-
out finding a master, or that the latter, having
once discovered the character of his servant, is
doubtful how to employ him. Whatever was the
occupation in which he was engaged, he so far
satisfied his employer as to remain a considerable
time in his service, and by his means was made
acquainted with several personages about the Pon-
tifical Court.

It was doubtless to the circumstance last men-
tioned that he owed the materials of many of his
satires. The Pontificate of Leo the Tenth was
made a brilliant era for Italian learning and philo-
sophy by the taste and patronage of that celebrated
Pontiff; but it is well known how grossly he suf-
fered the simplicity of religion to be corrupted, to
supply the means of patronizing learning and
the arts. Christendom has never been perhaps
in a worse condition, than during the period
he presided over the then Catholic Church. On

136 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

one side were nearly all the distinguished lite-
rary men of the age, devoted to the elucidation of
purely philosophical systems, wholly taken up with
admiration of Platonism, and resting not only their
chances of reputation, but their hopes of doing good
on the propagation of classical learning; on the
other side was the great mass of the people, still
far from being in a condition to profit by the sciences
then in vogue, and regarded by the higher ranks of
their spiritual guides much in the same manner as
the haughtiest philosophers of old considered the
multitude. The populace of Italy, and of every
country in Christendom, would therefore have been
left to follow its own mood, and make a religion for
itself, had they not been profitable tributaries, and
on that account to be kept in faithful subjection.
How this was to be effected, it was not difficult for
the weakest politician to discover. Ages had natu-
ralized superstition in the hearts of men, and when
this is the case, they may be governed by means
from which a mere child, nourished with truth,
would free himself with a smile of contempt. No-
thing had yet occurred of any moment in Italy to
make its sacred politicians suppose any change in
their plans requisite, and a necessity for taxing
the people's credulity was no sooner apparent, than

PIETRO ARETINO. 137

they invented methods for the immediate exercise
of their power. Hence the gross and wicked im-
postures of indulgences and the purchase of masses
— and hence the darkness which overspread the
Christian world, while learning and the arts in one
or two favoured corners were protected and cul-
tivated with the most distinguished success.

But it was not of ambition only, or of subjecting
the people to superstitions which might be made a
profitable source of revenue, that the Pontiff and
his courtiers had to be accused. The lives they
spent were a contradiction to all their professions
of Apostolic humility ; and though the natural ele-
vation of Leo's mind prevented his degenerating
into a vulgar sensualist, there were many among
the highest of the clergy whose conduct was marked
by a degrading profligacy, not the less disgusting
to those who had opportunities of discovering it,
because it was hidden from the world at large.

It was in the houses of these men that Aretino
now passed much of his time. He had already
been witness to the base ignorance of the people in
the country ; he had shown his contempt of their
superstition by every means in his power, and it
was not likely that his opinions would undergo much
alteration from the discoveries he had at present

138 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

the opportunity of making. If the lessons of priests
and monks appeared worthy of ridicule when he
only saw the superstitions they propagated among
the vulgar, they could hardly fail of being doubly
so when he found that the powerful regarded them
as nothing better than instruments of gain. He
might have been a satirist — a daring and licentious
one — had he been placed in other circumstances ;
but certainly none could have been fitter than those
in which he now found himself, to throw into a
ferment the bitter gall which seems to have been
mixed with his blood from his very infancy. It
appears, however, that he was as well qualified to
play the part of a courtier himself, as to expose
and lash the vices of his colleagues. We hear
nothing of his incurring the reprehension of the
princes and nobles of the Church, till the circum-
stance occurred which occasioned his retirement
from Rome ; and it is probable, therefore, that
during the six or seven years he spent there, he
chiefly exercised his favourite talent in secret, feed-
ing his splenetic disposition with a careful observa-
tion of popular men, and only shooting his arrows
at the instigation of his patrons, and that rarely
and with caution.

But his politic disposition was not always proof

PIETRO ARETINO. 139

against temptation. It happened that some pro-
fligate persons at Rome had induced the celebrated
painter Giulio Romano to degrade his genius to
the level of their base and corrupt taste. The pro-
ductions of his pencil, guided by the will of such
patrons, were not only unworthy of the artist, but
deserving the strongest reprehension, on account
of their licentious character ; they were, however,
engraved by Marc Antonio of Bologna, and their
circulation necessarily attracted the attention of
the public authorities. Both the painter and en-
graver were accordingly in danger of punishment
for their violations of public decency: the former
fled in time to secure his escape ; but the latter
•was apprehended, and thrown into close confine-
ment. The punishment which awaited him was
severe, but he had the good luck to be acquainted
with Aretino ; and so much influence had the latter
gained since his residence in the capital, that he
was enabled by his exertions to deliver the terri-
fied engraver from his dangerous predicament. It
would have been well for the satirist if he could
have contented himself with this share in the busi-
ness ; but, as if tempted by the perils in which his
friends had been placed, he was unable to rest till
he had written sixteen sonnets, which he appended

140 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

to the offensive paintings, and which they far ex-
ceeded, if possible, in disgusting ribaldry.

Like most persons in his situation, he had many
personal enemies, and a very short time elapsed
before it was well known to the Pontiff who had
written the licentious poems in illustration of Giu-
lio Romano's pictures. Aretino, well aware of what
he was to expect from the discovery, prepared
immediately for his retreat, which he accomplished
in safety, and returned to Arezzo. This event
took place in the year 1524, and he seems to have
been rendered as destitute as ever by the folly
which forced him to leave the Pontifical Court so
precipitously.

He continued but a short time in his native
town, being invited, soon after his return, to visit
Florence and the court of Giovanni de* Medici,
who, with princely power, was directing the affairs
of that Republic. Aretino speedily ingratiated
himself in the affections of his new patron, who,
just before his arrival at Florence, had broken his
league with the Emperor, and entered into al-
liance with Francis the First, King of France. In
consequence of this association, Giovanni proceed-
ed to Milan, where Francis then was, with his
army, and, having taken Aretino with him, the

PIETRO ARETINO. 141

poet had full scope for exercising his court-like
ingenuity. So prosperously did he pursue the
advantage thus afforded him, that he not only ac-
quired additional influence with his protector, but
won the favour of the French monarch, and ad-
vanced every day in the career which his enter-
prising mind had marked out.

It is not precisely known to what cause he
owed his reconciliation with the Pope ; but shortly
after returning from Milan, he made a journey to
Rome, where he remained some time, but again
left it on account of a quarrel with Clement, sup-
posed to have originated in the latter's neglecting
to punish a person who, according to Aretino's
own account, had attempted to assassinate him,
prompted to the deed by the desire of revenging
an insult which the satirist had passed upon him
in a sonnet.

The court of Giovanni again attracted his steps.
During his absence, he had received letters from
that Prince expressive of continued regard ; and
in one of them the latter tells him that, having
been at Pavia on a visit to the King of France,
he was asked by the Monarch why he had not
brought Aretino, whom he always desired to see,
and directed to be invited by a special message

142 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

to Pavia. So agreeable, indeed, were his manners
and conversation to Giovanni, that he would now
go nowhere without him, but made him his com-
panion both in his retirement and in transacting
the affairs of the Republic.

But the hopes of Aretino were not suffered to
remain long in this prosperous posture, Giovanni
having received in battle a dangerous wound in
the thigh, which rendered it necessary to re-
move him to the palace of the Duke of Man-
tua. While he lay there, Aretino was his constant
companion, and sought, by every means in his
power, to alleviate the sufferings of his generous
benefactor; but neither the attentions of friend-
ship, nor the skill of physicians, could stop the
effects of the wound, and the limb was at length
amputated. Whether owing to the weakness of
his frame, or the inexperience of the operators,
Giovanni was unable to support the trial, and, soon
after the operation, expired in the arms of Aretino.

Once more left without a patron, our poet re-
solved that he would thenceforward live indepen-
dent, trusting to his wit for the means of support,
and maintaining himself, as he expresses it, by
the sweat of his brow. Venice was the place he
chose for his abode, and thither he proceeded on

PIETRO ARETIXO. 143

the 25th of March 1527. Many reasons may be
alleged to account for his choosing the magnificent
capital of the commercial world for his residence.
He was to live by the exercise of his talents, and
in Venice he might find not one patron, but a
thousand, and be enriched by their rewards, and
this without feeling dependent on any. At Venice
lived the great Titian, and many men eminent for
their wit and learning, who would know how to
appreciate his abilities, and quicken them by ri-
valry and competition, things, above all others, de-
sirable to turbulent intellects like his. At Venice,
pleasure had no restraint, and wantoned at will
over the blue waves of the Adriatic, or through
the splendid halls of gorgeous palaces. And at
Venice, lastly, he could express himself as freely
as he chose on matters of religion, without the fear
of either the Pope, or his courtiers, or any other
ecclesiastic — it being a circumstance generally
known, that this Republic preserved its indepen-
dence of Rome throughout the many ages that it
flourished ; that it despised all attempts made upon
its independence, either by open or sinister means ;
and that its inhabitants, though always professing
themselves good Catholics, cared almost as little
about the Sovereign Pontiff, when the interests of

144 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

the State were at stake, as the Turks at Constan-
tinople. The taste and temper of Aretino well
fitted him for living among a people thus situa-
ted ; and it is, therefore, not surprising to find
him calling Venice, some time after his removal
thither, " the paradise of the world." To add,
moreover, to the general attractions of the place,
he enjoyed the friendship of the Doge, Andrea
Gritti, and lived on terms of close intimacy with
other powerful and distinguished members of the
Government.

The dislike he had conceived for Clement VII.
on account of the circumstances which had twice
driven him from Rome, had never been concealed ;
and now that he was in Venice he expressed him-
self more freely than ever respecting the Pontiff's
character. His conversation and writings pro-
duced a considerable sensation : the enemies of
Clement did not fail to make the utmost use of
his philippics ; and it is said, that the exertions of
Aretino tended materially to bring on the siege
of Rome, and the captivity of the Pope in the
Castle of St. Angelo. Andrea Gritti at length ad-
monished him to be less free in the employment
of his invectives ; but he is supposed to have con-
tinued to pour out his virulence against Clement

PIETRO ARETINO. 145

for two years longer, when, owing either to a
change in his opinions, or, which is by far the most
likely, to the persuasions of the Doge and the
hope of private advantage, he confessed himself
to have been guilty of a great error in respect
to the Pope, and wrote to him, expressing his
penitence, and his desire to be reconciled to his
Holiness.

Nothing can better show the influence which
Aretino had acquired, and the dread attached to
his name, than the ready manner in which the
offended and even insulted Pontiff accepted his
return to allegiance. Through the medium of his
friend Vasone, Suffragan Bishop of Vicenza, he re-
ceived a pontifical brief, to which he replied by
another penitential letter ; and about the same time
he became reconciled with his other adversaries
at Rome, among whom was the Bishop of Verona,
Giammatteo Giberti ; but this prelate soon after
offended him again, and was once more the object
of his satires. It is to this period also we must
refer the offer he received from the Emperor
Charles V. to create him a Cavalier, but which he
rejected, answering the Emperor, that a Cavalier
without a fortune, was like a wall without a cross,
exposed to every one who chose to insult him.

VOL. II. H

144 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

the State were at stake, as the Turks at Constan-
tinople. The taste and temper of Aretino well
fitted him for living among a people thus situa-
ted ; and it is, therefore, not surprising to find
him calling Venice, some time after his removal
thither, " the paradise of the world." To add,
moreover, to the general attractions of the place,
he enjoyed the friendship of the Doge, Andrea
Gritti, and lived on terms of close intimacy with
other powerful and distinguished members of the
Government.

The dislike he had conceived for Clement VII.
on account of the circumstances which had twice
driven him from Rome, had never been concealed ;
and now that he was in Venice he expressed him-
self more freely than ever respecting the Pontiff's
character. His conversation and writings pro-
duced a considerable sensation : the enemies of
Clement did not fail to make the utmost use of
his philippics ; and it is said, that the exertions of
Aretino tended materially to bring on the siege
of Rome, and the captivity of the Pope in the
Castle of St. Angelo. Andrea Gritti at length ad-
monished him to be less free in the employment
of his invectives ; but he is supposed to have con-
tinued to pour out his virulence against Clement

PIETRO ARETINO. 145

for two years longer, when, owing either to a
change in his opinions, or, which is by far the most
likely, to the persuasions of the Doge and the
hope of private advantage, he confessed himself
to have been guilty of a great error in respect
to the Pope, and wrote to him, expressing his
penitence, and his desire to be reconciled to his
Holiness.

Nothing can better show the influence which
Aretino had acquired, and the dread attached to
his name, than the ready manner in which the
offended and even insulted Pontiff accepted his
return to allegiance. Through the medium of his
friend Vasone, Suffragan Bishop of Vicenza, he re-
ceived a pontifical brief, to which he replied by
another penitential letter ; and about the same time
he became reconciled with his other adversaries
at Rome, among whom was the Bishop of Verona,
Giammatteo Giberti ; but this prelate soon after
offended him again, and was once more the object
of his satires. It is to this period also we must
refer the offer he received from the Emperor
Charles V. to create him a Cavalier, but which he
rejected, answering the Emperor, that a Cavalier
without a fortune, was like a wall without a cross,
exposed to every one who chose to insult him.

VOL. II. H

146 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

The Cardinal of Ravenna, however, soon after be-
stowed upon him a much more important advan-
tage, in the shape of five hundred scudi, as a
marriage portion for his sister. But of this rela-
tive of the poet little is known, except that she
did him no credit by her conduct, either before or
after her marriage, as, in a letter to his benefactor,
the Cardinal, he says, that of all the benefits he
had conferred upon him, that had done him the
least good which related to his sister. He had
also another sister, of similar character ; but it is
suspected, and with apparent justice, that much
which has been said respecting them ought to be
attributed to the invention of his enemies.

But, notwithstanding the attentions and patron-
age which he appears to have enjoyed in no slight
degree during his residence at Venice, he became,
from some cause or other, so discontented with
his situation, that he declared his resolution to leave
Italy for ever, and take up his residence at Con-
stantinople. The reasons he alleged for this de-
termination were, that the son of Andrea Gritti,
then settled in the capital of the east, had invited
him thither, and that he was so poor that he was
obliged to accept the invitation from necessity.
Neither of these causes, however, is allowed to

PIETRO ARETINO. 147

have been the true one, the publication of his in-
tention to leave Italy having originated, it is said,
in the expectation that it would make his friends
more anxious to retain him, and reward his talents
with greater munificence. Whatever truth there
may be in this supposition, it is certain that he
never undertook his proposed journey, but, in ]534,
visited Rome, then under the government of Pope
Paul III., to recreate himself, as he says in one of
his epistles, with the pleasures of the capital. His
stay there was but short, and he returned to his
favourite Venice, where he seems to have profited
to the utmost by the subterfuge he had employed,
or rather by the exercise of his wit, which, not-
withstanding his former complaints, appears never
to have wanted a ready market.

It is supposed that about this time his income was
rendered very considerable by pensions, and the
sale of his works, which were rapidly circulated im-
mediately on their appearance. So much were they
esteemed by many persons, that a Spanish prince
was accustomed to send a courier to Rome, for
the sole purpose of procuring Aretino's publications
the instant they came from the press. Nor were
these the only instances of regard he received from
the nobles and the public in general. He was visited
H 2

148 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

by the greatest princes, and by every description
of persons who made any pretension to fashion or
literature. Among the former was the Marquis of
Montferrat, who both came to see him at Venice
and invited him to his palace. While mentioning
this circumstance to a friend in one of his epistles,
he takes the opportunity of informing him at the
same time of the prodigious popularity he enjoyed;
and it is not a little amusing to hear how the book-
binder of Perugia, who made his journey to Rome
on foot, and with no other wealth than the clothes
on his back, could describe his present prosperity
and importance. " My head is broken," says he,
in his usual style, " with the incessant visits of
lords, and my steps are worn away with their con-
tinual treading on them, as the pavement of the
Capitol was worn by the wheels of triumphant cha-
riots. Nor do I believe, by the way, that Rome
ever saw such a concourse of people of all ages, as
that which besieges my house ; Turks, Jews, In-
dians, French, Germans, and Spaniards, are always
seeking me, and you may imagine how it is with
our Italians. Of the inferior kind of people I say
nothing, since it is easier to draw you from your
devotion to the Emperor, than to see me a mo-
ment without soldiers, scholars, friars, or priests :
I seem, indeed, to have; become a very oracle of

PIETRO ARETINO. 149

truth, some one or other coming continually to
tell me of the faults committed by this or that
prince or prelate, by which means I am made, as
it were, the secretary of the world at large, and
I beg you will address me as such."

That Aretino allowed himself the full latitude
of his vanity and love of ridicule in this epis-
tle, there is not much room to doubt, but it is
equally certain, as Mazzuchelli properly observes,*
that he really possessed a very extraordinary repu-
tation, which was rendered the more remarkable
from the circumstance that he owed the cultivation
of his mind entirely, or principally so, to his own
industry and perseverance. Of the intellectual
dominion he had created for himself, there are
ample proofs in the attention he received from the
sovereigns of France and Germany. For many
years he remained the willing adulator of both, and
exercised his art as a courtier with such perfection,
that, though no two masters could have been more
difficult to serve at the same time, he succeeded in
avoiding a breach with either. The power of his
pen was such, that while each desired to obtain his
influence, neither dared provoke his virulence by
expressing dissatisfaction at his failure in entire
devotion. Francis could claim his regard on the

* Vita.

150 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

strength of his alliance with Giovanni, and on the
early respect which he showed for his genius ; the
Emperor, on the other hand, rested his claims on
the substantial foundation of a pension of two hun-
dred scudi, which he authorized the satirist to draw
from the state of Milan. At length, the latter de-
termined to secure the whole of Aretino's favour
by some greater exercise of imperial liberality, and
for this purpose directed the Duke of Montmorenci
to call on him, and make known his intentions.
The Duke did so, and in the presence of one or two
other noblemen told the poet, that if he would pro-
mise to speak and write of the Emperor his master
only as he did of the King of France, and without
prejudice to truth, he would secure to him the
yearly payment of four hundred scudi for life.
Such an offer was not to be treated with disdain,
and Aretino assured the Duke that he should re-
joice to do honour to the name of the Emperor, that
is, without prejudice to truth, and would begin
to show his zeal in the cause the instant he found
himself certain of receiving the promised pension.
It is not known whether Francis offered a still
higher price for his assistance, or whether the neg-
lect of the Emperor's agents nullified the contract
mentioned above, but Aretino remained faithful to

PIETRO ARETINO. 151

his old patron Francis, and wrote of him in a manner
which plainly showed that he was strongly inclined
to his interest.

It has been observed, that nothing could be more
surprising than the sight of these powerful princes,
and others only second to them in rank, thus hum-
bling themselves to a man like Aretino, whose wit,
according to the most respectable testimony, was
far inferior to his arrogance.* Golden ornaments
and presents of every description were poured in
upon him from all quarters, in addition to the wealth
he acquired from the sources already mentioned ; so
that, according to his own words, he had received,
in the course of about eighteen years, not less than
twenty-five thousand scudi from the different pa-
trons of his muse. That he acquired this large sum
chiefly from the terror which he had taught men to
feel at the naming of his satires, is beyond a doubt ;
but it is not less certain, that he was also greatly
assisted in his projects by the suppleness of his
principles, and his readiness to flatter any one in
power who had not deeply offended him. Thus, on
the one side, he employed the threats of the sati-
rist ; on the other, the arts of the parasite ; either
of which has not been unfrequently found sufficient

* Tiraboschi.

152 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

for the purpose of a fortune-hunter, but which
united in the same hand are next to omnipotent.
" As the professed Flagello de' Principi," says the
learned historian of Italian literature, " he seemed
to threaten them with his vengeance, and the re-
proach of their actions in his books ; but there was
never a more sordid flatterer of the great, and there
is not to be found in all his works a single word
against any sovereign. The praises, therefore,"
continues his severe critic, " which he received
from learned men ; the honour paid him by some
academies, who enrolled him among their members ;
the works dedicated to him by several persons, all
which things are fully detailed by the Count Maz-
zuchelli, show us to what a height of folly a fanatic
adulation may carry people ; some from the desire
of gaining from him the same praises which they
gave ; and others, from abase fear of being pointed
at in his satires."

We may mention in this place, that there were
not wanting persons among his contemporaries who
considered that he was greatly assisted in his com-
positions, while at Venice, by Niccolo Franco, a
scholar of eminence, and who passed a considerable
time in the house of Aretino, purchasing his pro-
tection and pecuniary aid, it would seem, by com-

PIETRO ARETINO. 153

municating the advantages he possessed in an
extensive acquaintance with the writers of Greece
and Rome. Some of the works of Aretino bear
evident marks of greater erudition than he is be-
lieved to have ever possessed himself ; and Niccolo,
when he separated from him on account of a vio-
lent quarrel, asserted, that many of Aretino's works
were the produce of his intellect. The satirist,
however, as might be supposed, strenuously denied
the truth of this accusation, saying that the con-
trary was altogether the case ; and in this asser-
tion he was supported by Dolce and others of his
friends, who affirmed that Franco was utterly inca-
pable of aiding such a man in his studies, and that
he was an ignorant and foolish boaster.

Whatever truth or falsehood there might be in the
accusation of his enemies, he continued to increase
in reputation and influence ; and when Charles V.
made his public visit to Venice, Guidubaldo, Duke
of Urbino, one of the four Ambassadors chosen by
Venice to represent the Republic, took Aretino
with him when he set out to meet the Emperor.
Notwithstanding the doubtful manner in which he
had acted, he was received by the Sovereign with
the most marked distinction, as he has described*

* Lettere, vol. iii. 37.
H 5

154 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

in a letter to his friend, Signer Montese : " I am
almost out of my senses," says he, " so delighted
have I been with seeing and hearing him ; nor do I
think it possible for any one who has not seen and
heard him to imagine the so unimaginable sense
of that humane familiarity, of that pious grace, by
virtue of which he subjects the power of fortune
to the will of that intrepid soul of valour, which
continually fires his breast with some Christian re-
solution. Truly ought I to regard as correct that
which Francesco Maria, of eternal memory, was
accustomed to say to me with the skilfulness of his
speech, wonderful because unpremeditated ; — when
I regarded him above human form and likeness,
and declared the injury which had been done
him by unskilful sculptors, he said, * I am by
nature not handsome, and am, therefore, obliged
to those who represent me with something al-
most brutish in my appearance ; since it thence
happens that when I am seen by persons, I seem
much less repulsive than they had expected to
find me.' .... I alluded to a picture of his late
wife, Isabella, now the servant of God, which
Busseto gave to Titian, and he immediately made
several inquiries, with great solicitude, respecting
that divine painter, saying, that the picture was

PIETRO ARETINO. 155

very like truth, although done slightly : and, pur-
suing the mention of his angelic wife, he swore to
me, that he had only found comfort at her death
from the perusal of my letter; and this he said
with his eyes overflowing with tears, so deeply
fixed in his heart was the remembrance of his con-
sort. I replied, that I could no,t think my letters
were read by him who held in his hand the scep-
tre of the world. He answered, that all the nobles
of Spain had copies of what I had written in the
retreat from Algiers."

On the accession of Julius III. to the Papacy,
Aretino again determined to seek his fortune
among the Princes of the Church. To this end
he composed some sacred poems and paraphrases
of Psalms, and also wrote to his Holiness, con-
gratulating him on his promotion, and eulogizing
his various virtues: besides which, he composed
a sonnet on the same subject, and considered him-
self as having done sufficient altogether to merit
being rewarded by a rich benefice. The Pontiff,
indeed, expressed himself highly gratified by the
demonstration of his attachment ; and Baldovino
del Monte, the friend of Aretino, and a relative of
Julius, obtained for him the gift of a thousand
crowns of gold, and a bull, creating him a Cavalier

156 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

of the order of Saint Peter, a distinction, it seems,
much more honourable than profitable. These
grants were by no means sufficient to satisfy Are-
tino's wishes ; but he received them with pleasure
and gratitude, as indications that he should shortly
obtain other and more important ones : he even
expected to be made a Cardinal, and scarcely any
object was too great, or placed too high, to pre-
vent him from grasping at it. To aid him also in
his schemes of ambition, the Duke of Urbino invited
him about this time to accompany him to Rome,
and as nothing could be better adapted to his
wishes than to appear before the Pontiff as a friend
of the Prince to whom was committed the com-
mand of the Papal troops, the invitation was gladly
accepted, and Aretino prepared for his departure.
It is amusing to find him saying to a friend, that it
was expected his presence at Rome would make
another jubilee, so great he thought would be the
concourse of people desirous of seeing his person.
The reception given him by the Pope was equal
to his warmest expectation ; but it was otherwise
with regard to rewards and pensions. Julius em-
braced him, and kissed his forehead, "but his
hands," says Aretino, " remained empty:" and,
after paying court for some months, without see-

PIETRO ARETINO. 157

ing any reason to hope that his farther stay would
be better rewarded, he returned dissatisfied to
Venice, where it is supposed he remained without
ever again changing his residence.

The disappointment he felt at what he esteemed
the unpardonable neglect of the Pontiff, greatly
enraged him, and he told a friend that, unless he
found things different, " he would put his pen into
the whole great legendary of the saints ;" adding,
" and, as soon as I have composed my book, I
swear to you, that I will dedicate it to Sultan
Soliman." It may not be uninteresting to the
reader to see the sonnet on which he lay a great
part of his claim to the regard of Julius : —

Ecco pur che in piii pro nostro ha Dio converse

In Giulio Terzo il gran Giulio Secondo,
E siccome quel fur stupor del mondo

Miracol questo. fia dell' universo.
Egli e di grazie omnipotent! asperso,

E di virtuti angeliche fecondo ;
Nel senno, e nel valor tanto profondo,

Che la fama il decanta in simil verso.
Forza d' armi, di leggi, e di eloquenza,

Non usera il Pastor, bench£ sia tale
In natura, in arbitrio, ed in potenza ;

Ma sederii sopra il suo tribunale
La Giustizia, la Pace, e la Clemenza,
Si che giubili il Ben, languisca il Male.

158 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

Lo ! the great Second Julius, for our bliss,
Now as the Third great Julius is known —
That for the wonder of the world, but this
The miracle of the universe we own !
Graces omnipotent his form surround,
Bright virtues, too, angelical and rare —
In sense and noble valour so profound,
That even his fame his graces seem to share.
Though such he be in nature, state, and might,
The force of arms that Pastor will not use,
Nor laws, nor eloquence, but rather choose
To place on his tribunal holy right,
And peace, and mercy, whence we soon shall see
Evil decay, and good keep jubilee !

It is greatly doubted whether he really received,
as he subsequently boasted, the offer of a Cardi-
nal's hat : but the extraordinary marks of respect
which he obtained from so many princes render
it not improbable that the Pontiff was willing, by
any means in his power, to retain him in his ser-
vice, and the promise of promotion to the purple
was an expedient used in many cases besides
that of Aretino. He was, however, pressed by no
necessity to court so uncertain a patron as Julius ;
the Emperor and the rest of his princely acquaint-
ances having supplied him with an income suffi-
cient to support not only the ordinary expenses of

PIETRO ARETINO. 159

his establishment, but to live in a style of courtly
magnificence. His table was always furnished
with the rarest and most costly viands ; the wines
he drank were superior in excellence to those
found in almost any other house ; and he dressed
in vestments so rich and fashionable, that he was
said to have the noblest and most graceful appear-
ance of any old man in Italy. The sums he spent
by this expensive manner of living, afford the
strongest proof that could be given of the influence
which he possessed over the minds of the great.
In ten years, that is from 1527 to 1537, his living
cost him no less than ten thousand scudi, and this,
without reckoning, he observes, the sums he paid
for the silks and the cloth of gold he purchased for
his dress. Nor were his expenses confined to the
gratification of his own wants. His liberality to
those who needed it seems to have been as free
as that which he desired to see exercised towards
himself by the great men whom he flattered in his
epistles and dedications. Besides keeping a table
at all tinies prepared for the hospitable entertain-
ment of his friends, his house was the general re-
sort of all the disappointed and unfortunate men of
the city. " Every one runs to me," says he, in a
letter to a friend, " as if I had a royal treasure at

160 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

my command. If a poor woman is in her labour,
my house pays for it — if any one is thrown into
prison, I must provide for him — sick soldiers, un-
fortunate pilgrims, wandering cavaliers — everybody
comes to me, and every one who happens to be
ill sends to my apothecary for physic, which I
accordingly have to pay for."

But he had also calls upon his purse of a different
kind. His illicit connections had brought upon
him the care of a family; and, in the decline of
life, he found himself obliged to provide for the
support and establishment of three daughters : of
these, the eldest married a gentleman named
Perina Riccia, and Aretino employed his interest
with his friends so well on the occasion, that they
supplied him, by their benefactions, with the mar-
riage portion. The Duke of Florence gave three
hundred scudi towards it, and the Cardinal of
Ravenna, who had behaved so liberally at the
marriage of his sister, brought him two hundred,
a part of a larger benefaction promised by the
Emperor ; others contributed smaller sums, and
altogether the daughter of the satirist was as richly
dowered as if her father had been a merchant
instead of a man living solely by his wit. The
marriage took place in 1659, and the following

PIETRO ARETINO. 161

year the bride and her husband were invited by
the Duke and Duchess of Urbino to visit them at
their palace; but quarrels shortly after occurred
which destroyed the hopes Aretino had indulged
of seeing his daughter happy ; and he had the mor-
tification to find himself involved in disputes which
ended in her separation from her husband. His
favourite child, Adria, died in her youth ; but so
strong was his affection for her, that he had a
medal cast to preserve her memory, and never
ceased to speak of her with deep emotion.

In speaking of the affection he bore his children,
we are also reminded of the warm attachment
he uniformly manifested towards his intimate ac-
quaintances : his fondness for the pleasures of the
table not being in the smallest degree tinctured
with the illiberality which sometimes affects men
in his circumstances. The gratification he derived
from delicious wines and viands, was always en-
joyed at his own expense, as he never left home
to dine with any one, while it was his greatest
delight to get together such men as Titian and
other celebrated artists and literary men to spend
the evening in partaking of his dainties. Towards
Titian he exercised his friendly feelings in a more
substantial manner, introducing the great artist to

162 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

the Emperor, and aiding his fame in a most im-
portant degree, by the publicity he gave his works
through frequent allusion to them in his letters and
conversation. There is little doubt but that his sin-
cere regard for him as a man induced him thus to
promote his interests ; but he had great taste for
works of art, and Titian was a painter with whose
works few persons could become acquainted with-
out venerating the artist. One of the most inte-
resting of Aretino's letters is that addressed to the
painter to thank him for a copy of his celebrated
Jesus, the original of which was sent to the Em-
peror. " I have received this morning, that of the
Nativity," says Aretino, " a copy of that true and
living Jesus you gave the Emperor, and which was
the most precious gift that ever monarch received
from his most devoted subject. The crown of
thorns which transfixes Christ, is indeed of thorns,
and the blood which is seen flowing from the
wounds, is indeed blood ; in the same way, no
scourge could make the flesh seem more inflamed
or livid than your divine pencil has done on all the
heavenly members of the sacred image. The grief
which appears impressed on the figure of Jesus,
moves to repentance whoever beholds it with a
Christian feeling ; the sight of his arms cut with the

PIETRO ARETINO. 163

cords by which his hands are bound, must teach
humility to whoever contemplates the position of
his right hand so expressive of the deepest sorrow ;
nor dares any who sees the pacific grace demon-
strated in that form, retain the slightest feeling of
hate or rancour in his bosom. The place where
I sleep, therefore, has no longer the appearance of
a noble, earthly chamber, but seems to be a sacred
temple of God, so that I am about to convert
pleasure into prayer, and licentiousness into purity,
thanking you greatly for this specimen of your art."
Dated Venice, January 1548.

His intimate acquaintance with Titian brought
him on one occasion into a ludicrously perilous
situation. Having taken part with his friend
against Tintoret, he ventured to satirize the latter
with more freedom than was consistent either with
justice or safety ; the artist, however, said nothing,
but invited him to sit for his portrait, which he
expressed himself anxious to paint. Aretino went
accordingly without any suspicion to his house, but
after sitting some time, Tintoret desired him to let
him see his height, and then began to measure
him, the terrified Aretino exclaiming, " Jacopo, what
are you doing ?" " Nothing particular," he said ;
" but I see you measure two pistols and a half

164 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

long." These mysterious words led to an apology,
and they were thenceforward good friends.

It was not on all occasions that he escaped so
well. His love of ridicule, and the bitterness with
which he resented neglect or injury, put him se-
veral times in danger of assassination, and he was
more than once seriously wounded ; this rendered
him not a little nervous whenever he had offended
any one whose arm there was reason to dread, and
he would at such times confine himself to his
house, which he strongly barricadoed, and not stir
out till his enemy had either left the city or was
pacified. Pietro Strozzi, a celebrated captain, kept
him for some time in this condition ; but an Eng-
lish ambassador, whom he had accused of re-
serving some of the money sent him by Henry
VIII., set six or seven armed men to watch him,
who severely wounded him in the arm, and left
him for dead.

It was not, however, by the dagger of the
assassin that Aretino was to lose his life, and he
continued to pursue his favourite occupations of
writing satires or laudatory epistles, of admiring
paintings, playing on the harpsichord, or some
similar instrument, and conversing with his friends
over the elegant banquets he prepared for them, as

PIETRO ARETINO. 165

if he had had as few enemies as less conspicuous
characters. The exact manner in which his career
terminated, has not been decided by his biogra-
phers ; by some it is said, and their opinion gained
general credit for many years, that his death was
marked with as great a degree of infamy as that
which stained the worst periods of his life. Ac-
cording to these accounts, some friend had come to
pay him a visit, and chose, as the most amusing
subject for conversation, the flagitious conduct of his
host's sisters, whose character, it has been already
observed, was little calculated to increase his re-
spectability. Aretino, so far from blushing at the
details, was thrown into a most violent fit of laugh-
ter, and leaning back in his chair, the feet flew from
under him, when falling on his head, his skull was
fractured, and he almost instantly expired.

The whole of this tale, however, is said to have
been fabricated,* and there is something so ap-
pallingly atrocious in the idea it would give us of
Aretino's character, that for the credit of humanity
we should wish to discredit it, unless it rested on
the most substantial evidence. There also seems
to be good reasons for doubting it of another kind
besides those resulting from the absence of suf-

* Mazzuchelli.

166 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

ficient testimony to the fact. From Aretino's con-
duct towards his daughters ; from a certain degree
of pride which appeared in his character ; from his
general professions of being a friend to virtue, and
the acquaintance he enjoyed with so many eminent
individuals, both in Venice and elsewhere, it can
scarcely be considered credible that he would have
regarded the infamy of his family as a subject of
ridicule, or that he would not have felt too much
fear at its becoming publicly known, to prevent
him from treating it with levity. Guilty, more-
over, as he was of many and gross vices, there is
nothing sufficiently bad in the sentiments which he
uttered in his own person when writing to his ac-
quaintances, to lead us to suppose that his nature
was so completely corrupt, or his heart so entirely
blackened by vice, as to make the licentious aban-
donment of his sisters a proper object to excite
the mirth of a dinner-table.

But if Aretino was not guilty of an offence
against human nature so dark as that just mentioned,
he still remains accused of one but a few degrees
removed from it, and even fully as bad, did not
our knowledge of his opinions furnish us with
something like an apology in his favour. After
having, it is said, lain ill some time, he was given

PIETRO ARETINO. 167

over by his physicians, and advised to prepare for
death ; submitting himself accordingly to the usual
ceremonies of the church, he received the sacra-
ment, and, lastly, extreme unction; but he was
no sooner anointed with the holy oil, than he ex-
claimed—

" Gardatemi da topi or che son unto."

Something worse than levity there is reason to fear
was implied in these sarcasms on the rites of the
Roman Church, and to whatever communion we
may belong, the mind of every person of right
feeling shrinks with aversion from one who could
insult an object or a custom which those about him
were regarding as worthy of veneration. It is one
of the first obligations of civil society that each of
its members respect the decision of the community
at large, and if this be allowed to hold good in
things of mere outward convenience, it surely
ought to apply to the opinions which men consider
of the highest importance to their future as well
as present happiness, and which they continue to
cherish, while their ideas on every other subject,
perhaps, are continually varying. Such persons
as Aretino, professing to be above the rest of
mankind by superiority of discernment, forget that

168 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

knowledge confers upon them the power of enlight-
ening, not the right of exercising a species of intel-
lectual tyranny for their own amusement. Ridicule
and sarcasm are only lawful when levied against
voluntary error, and where the wounds they inflict
may serve the double purpose of punishing and cor-
recting folly. In religious matters, therefore, these
weapons can rarely be used with safety or justice.
So long as a large number of persons regard cer-
tain opinions, or rites, as necessary and venerable,
truth and reason only afford the proper means
for attack, because it is on these the dogmas, how-
ever erroneous, are supposed to be founded, and
to attack a man with ridicule because he does that
which he has thought it right to do from infancy,
is scarcely less unjust than it would be to burn
him for speaking truth.

But however reprehensible Aretino was for the
mode he employed to express his disregard of the
rites of the Church, he scarcely merits the fiery
censures which were heaped upon him by his con-
temporaries. It should be remembered that he
had from earliest youth manifested a strong dis-
like to what he regarded as the superstitions of
his age, and of the Church to which he outwardly
belonged ; that he had on many occasions expressed

PIETRO ARETINO. 169

himself to this purpose, never concealing his sen-
timents except when playing the courtier, and
then only so slightly, that his heretical opinions
might be clearly discerned under the thin veil of
his flattery. The sarcasm, therefore, which he
uttered, was only one of a thousand which he had
been accustomed to scatter in sport among his
friends ; it was not the cold and calculated insult
of the atheist, but the wanton and petulant vanity
of the satirist ; and if he had not given his enemies
many more important and juster reasons for black-
ening his memory, his witticisms would have me-
rited no greater reprehension than what is due
to levity when usurping the place of reflection and
propriety.

In estimating the literary character of Aretino,
it is difficult to determine in what that remark-
able excellence consisted which obtained him the
friendship of so many distinguished characters.
His works in the present age are rarely opened,
and contain little or nothing to attract attention
either in style or matter. The portion most in-
teresting is that which consists of his numerous
epistles, in which ate found many passages strik-
ingly illustrative of the period when they were
written, and affording an excellent mirror of the

VOL. II. I

170 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

author's character and pursuits. But amusing and
not unuseful as these epistles are to the inquisi-
tive scholar, they would be found unreadable to
persons in general, and with these, his satires, his
plays, his sacred dramas and other religious poems,
all at our hands, we shall still be left to wonder
at the success with which he pursued the profes-
sion of an author. But it must not be forgotten
that though dull to us in the present day, a large
proportion of both the epistles and poems made
allusions to persons and events which, when they
were written, entirely occupied men's attention ;
and every species of composition which can be
made the vehicle of direct compliment or pungent
satire is sure to succeed if managed with tolerable
adroitness. All persons can understand praise
and censure, even when conveyed in the shape
of allegories or half concealed under an abun-
dance of poetical ornament. Aretino, therefore,
was sure not to want readers, and as success con-
tinued to increase his confidence, he spoke with
greater plainness or violence. Had he rested his
chance of reputation on any other kind of litera-
ture but that which makes the praise or censure
of individuals its theme, he would, it is likely, have
remained almost unknown, or possessed an inferior

PIETRO ARETINO. 171

station among the most indifferent writers of his
country ; but a satirist has all the ill-natured feel-
ings of men on his side, and if he have the art to
make his readers suppose that it is not their own
characters but those of their neighbours to whom his
sarcasms refer, though he may do little good, and
there may be more abuse than genuine wit in his
poems, he will seldom fail of popularity or reward.
It is with writers of this kind as with an army, it
is not so much their actual strength as the art
with which they dispose their forces which deter-
mines their success ; and in this respect Aretino
was probably superior to any satirist that ever
wielded the pen. He flattered the great, but
always kept them in awe of his lash should they
chance to offend him; he thus effected as much
by servility as he did by satire, the former giving
greater poignancy to the latter, and the latter
more value to the former, as his patrons saw the
contrast between his behaviour to them and to
his enemies. To those who rewarded his attach-
ment by rich presents and pensions he expressed
himself a most devoted lover of truth, and as will-
ing to sacrifice any thing in its support ; a declara-
tion of this kind was the general accompaniment of
an epistle filled with the grossest flattery, and it
i 2

172 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

is scarcely credible that the noble personages to
whom he addressed himself should have been
wholly blind to his art ; but besides the professions
he made of his great love of truth, they found
him speaking to others in a manner which they
imagined could be only prompted by this virtuous
principle, and thus viewing in connexion his com-
pliments to them and his satires upon others, they
considered the one as really elicited by their me-
rits, and the other as the indignant voice of truth,
their satisfaction at the conduct of the writer to-
wards themselves being sufficient to make them
find both power and skill in his sarcasms.

If this may account in some measure for the
applause he elicited from the nobles, it is much
easier to explain the phenomenon of his success
with the people at large. A writer of the most
moderate talents may at any time obtain the ad-
miration of the vulgar by strongly infusing his
compositions with abuse of their superiors ; this
has been observed from time immemorial, and will
continue to be the case till human nature has
undergone a greater change than it has ever yet
experienced. Aretino was, however, well qualified
to write in a manner calculated to attract the
attention of the people. He had passed his youth

PIETRO ARETIXO. 173

among persons little refined by education, and was
unincumbered by heavy scholastic erudition — he
had learnt how to engage their notice by the fan-
tastic tricks and expressions which they best com-
prehend— he was indifferent as to the laws of good
taste or delicacy, and possessed courage sufficient
to make himself appear their leader against those
they disliked. Had he been much less ingenious
than he actually was, these qualifications would
have enabled him to make his way as a popular
satirist, it being a remarkable fact that thousands
of persons, whom it would be difficult to amuse by
any other species of writing, if not imbued with
genuine humour, will listen with great zest to the
most stupid ballad that was ever penned if it pur-
pose to be a satire on some known and unpopular
character.

Nor was Aretino altogether unassisted in his
career by that incomparable vanity which formed
so distinguishing a feature of his character. The
confidence he felt in his own powers was un-
bounded, and in this he was confirmed by the
facility with which he composed the most cele-
brated of his works. Thus he says that he was
accustomed in the early part of his career to write
forty stanzas in a morning — that the comedy of

174 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

" Marescalco " was composed in ten mornings, and
that of "Filocopo"in the same time — that the
"Ippocrito" and " Talanta" were written in less
time than it would take to copy them, and were
composed in the intervals of the night which he
stole from sleep. Two hours a day, it is also farther
affirmed, were all that he ever gave to study or
writing; and that when he composed, the only
assistance he required was from pens, ink, and
paper, on which last particular, it is shrewdly ob-
served by his biographer, Mazzuchelli, that the
histories which he wrote must necessarily have
been rather deficient in correctness and authority.
But how strongly he was possessed with the idea
of his own excellence is proved still more from the
means he made use of to spread his name over
Italy and other parts of the world. Besides having
his portrait taken several times, he ordered three
medals to be struck bearing his likeness and in-
scribed with his name at length, " The divine Are-
tino." His letters to his friends are full of the
same indications of his vanity, and gross as may
be the praise he bestowed on his patrons, he never
flattered any person more extravagantly than he
did himself. It was his favourite boast that he

PIETRO ARETINO. 175

was the first Italian author who had ever published
his epistolary correspondence, and he had formed
the very highest opinion of the excellence of his
letters. Bernardo Tasso, however, chanced to say
that there was no Italian writer of letters worthy
of imitation ; and so enraged was Aretino, when he
discovered that Bernardo had thus expressed him-
self, that he immediately wrote to him, express-
ing both his anger and contempt at what he consi-
dered an attack on his reputation. " What a god,"
exclaims he, " would you consider yourself if you
had published your volume as many years before
me as I have before you." And towards the con-
clusion he says, that without either riding post,
serving courts, or even moving a step, he had made
dukes, princes, and sovereigns tributary to virtue ;
— that his fame was spread throughout all the
world, and that they prized his portrait and held
his name in esteem in the distant countries of
India and Persia. " Wherefore," continues he,
" I exhort you to counsel and not to fury ; but
since anger is more powerful in your breast than
reason, I give you the choice of both arms and
ground ;" the nature of which challenge .is ex-
plained in a former part of the letter, where he

176 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

tells Tasso that he was only fit to sing love-songs,
and calls him to a trial of skill that all the world
may see who is superior.*

He commonly styled himself the divine Aretino,
and ornamented the frontispiece of his books with
the inscription " Per divina gracia homo libero," or
" Ecco II Flagello de' Principi," while the estima-
tion in which he asserted his portraits were held
all over the world induced him to have medals
struck with his likeness, which he sent as a mark
of high honour to some of the greatest men of
Europe. His portrait he gave to the King of
France, and seems to have considered it a present
worthy of a king ; as, besides observing that people
placed his likeness in their drawing-rooms and in
every part of their houses, ornamenting even their
looking-glasses and other articles of furniture with
it, he says, that it was as famous as those of Alex-
ander the Great, of Caesar, and of Scipio. Of the
value of his praise he had no less an opinion, and
he observed that if he had praised Christ as much
as he had the Emperor, he should have had more
treasures in heaven than he ever had debts on
earth, asserting at the same time that he was never
either proud, ungrateful, or ambitious.

* Leltere, vol. v. p. 187.

PIETRO ARETINO. 177

It is not, however, to be supposed, that he was
only supported in his high opinion of himself by his
own vanity. Besides the attentions he received
from the princes who patronized him, and which
would have had a similar effect on most men of or-
dinary mind, he was flattered by his acquaintances
in the same manner as he complimented King
Henry, and the Emperor. He was not only termed
the Divine, but the Censor of the World, the Oracle
of Truth, and even the fifth Evangelist; more than
one preacher, it is said, not deeming it improper to
allude to his writings from the pulpit. To account
in some measure for the latter circumstance, it
must be remembered that he wrote the Life of
the Virgin Mary, of St. Catherine, and our Lord,
as well as some other religious works ; but by what-
ever means he acquired it, the reputation he enjoyed
is not the less extraordinary, considering that he
possessed neither the advantages derivable from
education, nor those high qualities of genius which
command attention. Nor was it merely as a writer
that he obtained respect; his judgment was con-
sidered so excellent, that authors were accustomed
to purchase his opinion on their compositions,
which they sent to him for that purpose before pub-
lishing them. By a curious little note found among
i 5

178 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

his epistles, we learn that he was not very cour-
teous in his treatment of these applicants if they
neglected to fee him in a liberal manner. " If you
knew," says he in the letter alluded to, " as well
how to give, as you do how to versify, Alexander
and Caesar might go to bed ; attend then to your
verses, since liberality is not your art !"*

Of the actual merit of Aretino as a writer, there
is scarcely but one opinion. The reputation he en-
joyed while living, may be accounted for as above,
and he is far from being the only instance in which
little genuine talent with a great deal of assurance,
and cunning in the employment of that little, has
obtained for a writer considerable temporary cele-
brity. As a poet, he seems never to have aimed
at any elevation of the imagination, and seldom
manifests any fervour of feeling or sentiment. His
prose works are similarly cold, but both in these
and his poems there is a certain degree of wit, and
ingenuity of expression, with occasional gleams of
original thought, that might be sufficient to excite
the admiration of persons either afraid of his abuse,
or gratified by his praise. His style, however, in
general, is rendered both unreadable and incapable
of translation, by constant transpositions, and the

* Lettere, vol. ii. p. 14&.

PIETRO ARETINO. 179

obscurity of many of the ideas. " It has neither
elegance nor grace," says Tiraboschi, " and he
seems to have been the first to employ those ridi-
culous hyperboles and strange metaphors, which
were in such frequent use in the following age."
The learned author then cites as an illustration,
what Aretino says of his Capitoli in one of his
letters, " * In those which have the motion of the
sun the lines of the viscera are rounded, the mus-
cles of the intentions are raised, and the profiles of
the intrinsical affections distended.' I have never,"
continues the historian, " seen books so silly and
useless as those of this impostor." The vileness of
Aretino's mind was equal to his profound ignorance,
his private interest and gain being the evident ob-
ject of all he wrote. Nor were critics wanting
during his life-time, who, being neither deceived
by his pretensions, nor frightened by his threats,
openly dared to express their contempt of his wri-
tings. Among his enemies, he numbered some of
the most famous men of the age ; II Doni and
Berni were the foremost, and attacked him in his
own style with a vengeful violence of language that
the nerves of a modern reader can scarcely bear.
Niccolo Franco, his former friend, the poet Albi-
cante, Girolamo Muzio, Gabriello Faerno, were not

180 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

less his enemies, and the opinions expressed by
these writers, with the rancour of personal hatred,
have been universally adopted by their successors
in Italy and elsewhere.

The works of Aretino are very numerous ; but
as has been seen, it is to the name he obtained
among his contemporaries, and not to the merit of
his writings he owes a place among his worthier
and more distinguished countrymen. His principal
prose compositions are his Letters in six volumes ;
his Comedies, the Lives of the Virgin Mary, St.
Catherine, St. Thomas Aquinas, and our Saviour ;
three books on the Humanity of Christ, a treatise
entitled II Genesi, with the Vision of Noah, and a
Paraphrase of the seven Penitential Psalms. His
poems consist of laudatory verses dedicated to
various great men ; the Strambotti alia Villanesca ;
the Horaoio, a dramatic poem ; the first two
cantos of the Orlandino, written as a burlesque on
Ariosto, Pulci, and other romancers ; and miscel-
laneous pieces and satires.

Hifc of JSernar&o

THE name of Tasso, now only known by the
splendour of its literary glory, had been ennobled
for centuries before the birth of Bernardo, by the
actions of his illustrious ancestors. It is, however,
creditable to human nature to find how little
honours of any other kind are regarded, when
exposed to comparison with those which belong to
intellectual eminence. The forefathers of Bernar-
do, and the more celebrated Torquato, were men
of high renown in their day, and merited the dis-
tinction they received ; but scarcely any one, ex-
cept the biographer or antiquary, would ever think
of inquiring into their history, were it not for their

184 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

connection with the admirable poets who have im-
mortalized the name. Till the accurate investi-
gations of Serassi proved to the contrary, it was
commonly believed that the family of the Tassi
was derived from that of the Torriani, Lords of
Milan : but the earliest accounts to be depended
upon, represent them as established at Almenno,
about five miles from Bergamo, and soon after as
Lords of Cornello, a mountainous district in the
neighbourhood. In 1290, Omodeo de' Tassi invent-
ed the system of regular posts, and his descendants
becoming the general superintendents of the offices
in Flanders, Spain, and Germany, they rose to the
highest dignities, and, in the latter country, became
sovereign Princes.

Bernardo was born on the llth of November
1493, at Bergamo.* The latter point, however, has
been disputed, some of his biographers contending
that he first saw the light at Venice ; but it is
generally allowed, that no sufficient proofs can be
advanced to support this opinion, and Bergamo is,
therefore, left in the peaceable enjoyment of its
honour as his birth-place. His parents were Ga-
briele, son of Giovanni, and Caterina de' Tassi del
Cornello, descended from two branches of the same

* Serassi. t Seghezzi.

BERNARDO TASSO. 185

distinguished family. The first instructor to whom
his education was intrusted was Gio. Batista Pio,
of Bologna, under whose care he manifested a sin-
gular aptitude for learning, and inspired his parents
with sanguine hopes of his future eminence ; but,
while still a child, both his father and mother were
taken off by a premature death, and he was left
with a sister, still younger than himself, to the care
of his maternal uncle, Luigi Tasso, Bishop of Re-
canati. The property which he inherited from his
father was not sufficient to support and educate
him ; but Luigi placed him in an academy, and his
little sister in a monastery, paying for their edu-
cation out of his own purse. The progress which
the orphans made in their respective studies, suffi-
ciently rewarded him for his benevolence. Bor-
delisia became a nun, and took the name of Afra,
distinguishing herself by so sweet and amiable a
conduct, that her memory was revered long after
her death by the sisters of Santa Grata. Bernardo
applied himself to the classics, and, in a few years,
was remarkable for his extensive acquaintance with
the best authors of Greece and Rome. He also
composed poems in Italian, which attracted still
greater attention : and, in a villa belonging to his
uncle at Redona, about a mile from Bergamo, he

186 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

was accustomed thus to refresh himself from se-
verer studies, while his verses were considered
equal to those of Bembo, and soon obtained him
the praise of all Italy. But, during one of his visits
to this villa, the Bishop, who had shortly before
arrived there, was cruelly murdered, and the house
stripped of its most valuable effects by some of the
domestics.

The death of his uncle, whom he loved as a
parent, again left Bernardo comparatively desti-
tute. He had, however, it seems, sufficient pro-
perty to enable him to travel and spend a life of
leisure. Bidding adieu, therefore, to Bergamo, he
set out on his wanderings, and, in the early part
of them, became acquainted with Ginevra Mala-
testa, a lady whom he has represented as a para-
gon of beauty and virtue. His passion for this
lady was characteristic of his ardent and poetical
temperament; and he dedicated to her many of
the best efforts of his muse : but, when she be-
came the wife of a gentleman of the Obizzi family,
he bade her a formal farewell in a sonnet, which
is greatly admired for its pathos and delicacy, and
was so celebrated at the time it was written, that
not a lord or lady, it is said, was to be found in
Italy who could not repeat it.

BERNARDO TASSO. 187

Not long after this event, he grew weary of his
manner of living, and, becoming desirous of better-
ing his fortune, attached himself to the Count
Guido Rangone, General of the Pontifical forces.
In the capacity of Secretary to this nobleman, Ber-
nardo was witness to the desperate struggles which
took place between Clement VII. and the Empe-
ror, and was deputed by Guido to carry on some
of the most important of his negotiations for the
Pope and the allies. After having shown consi-
derable talent in the conduct of these affairs, he left
the service of Guido at the termination of the war,
and proceeded to Ferrara, where he received from
the Duchess many tokens of respect, and was ap-
pointed her Secretary. He, however, remained
only a short time in her employ, and removed to
Padua, where he was unwillingly involved in the
disputes between Pietro Bembo and Broccardo :
this was, probably, the cause of his leaving that
city for Venice, whither he repaired after making
friends with Bembo, and explaining in a sonnet
the supposed allusions which had been received by
the Cardinal as an intended insult on his person.
At Venice he found many of his early acquaint-
ances, and, having collected the various pieces
of poetry he had composed, he published them in

188 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

the year 1531, dedicating them to Ginevra Ma-
latesta.*

This volume of poems added greatly to the re-
putation he had already acquired, and attracted
the attention of Ferrante Sanseverino, Prince of
Salerno, himself a poet of considerable ability.
Delighted with the genius displayed in the verses
now published, and having heard of the author's
talent for business, he sent him a pressing in-
vitation to Salerno, offering, at the same time,
to make him his Secretary. Bernardo accept-
ed the offer, and, quickly obtaining the entire
confidence of the Prince, was rewarded for his
services by the grant of numerous and valuable
offices. Thus increasing in wealth, he took a splen-
did house, and lived in a style of costly magnifi-
cence. His public employments, however, had not
the effect of drawing him from his attachment to
poetry: and, in the year 1534, he re-published
his former collection, with the addition of several
new pieces, dedicating the work in general to the
Prince, but the second portion of it to his consort,
Isabella Villamarina. Soon after this, he accom-
panied his patron to Africa, on occasion of the
expedition of Charles V. against Tunis. At his

* Seghezzi. Serassi.

BERNARDO TASSO. 189

return, he brought with him the curious arabesque
vase, which is mentioned in two of Torquato's son-
nets, and several poems composed during his ab-
sence, and which he published in 1537, under the
title of the " Terzo Libro degli Amori." About
two years after he married Porzia de' Rossi,
daughter of Giacomo di Pistoia and Lucretia de'
Gambacozti, formerly Lords of Pisa, and subse-
quently Marquesses of Celenza, By this union,
therefore, he became connected with some of the
greatest personages in Italy, besides which his wife
brought him a considerable fortune, and, possessing
an agreeable person and amiable disposition, she
enjoyed his uninterrupted affection till death sepa-
rated them. Their first child, Cornelia, was re-
markable, in her infancy, for wit and intelligence,
and, to secure her from the dangers of the court,
was, at an early age, placed in a convent. Their
next was named Torquato, but he died in his in-
fancy, leaving the name for his illustrious brother,
who was born soon after Bernardo had set out
with the Prince in 1544 to join the forces of the
Emperor, under his general the Marquess del Vasto.
A short time previous to this expedition, he had
commenced his poem of " Amadigi." The Prince,
with a liberality which did him the greatest honour,

190 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

knowing Bernardo's love of study, made few calls
upon his attention, except on occasions of extra-
ordinary necessity. Though he himself resided
at Naples, and Bernardo received a stipend as his
secretary, he had permitted him to live at Sorrento,
in a most delicious retirement, and wholly occupy
himself with the composition of poetry. The
period which he spent in this uninterrupted en-
joyment of literature, was the happiest of his life,
and the design of the Amadigi was owing to the
hope he had conceived of passing many years in
these tranquil occupations. He at first determined,
it is said, to write this poem in versi sciolti, con-
ceiving that the rhyming metres were only fitted
for light and amatory poetry. To this idea he was
instigated by his friend Speroni, who had a great
contempt for rhyme, and regarded it as destroying
the gravity and elevation which should belong to
an heroic poem. This opinion, however, was
soon after controverted by the Prince, arid by
Don Luigi d'Avila, and others, whom he met in
Flanders, after the war, and who desiring to see
Bernardo imitate Ariosto, induced him to change
his plan. But having at first put his materials
together in prose, he began to versify them, add-
ing, as he proceeded, such ornaments as his fancy

BERNARDO TASSO. 191

suggested ; and, as soon as he had finished the first
canto, he sent it to Speroni, begging him to ex-
amine it carefully, and submit it to Girolamo Mo-
lino, Benedetto Varchi, and some other literary
acquaintances.*

His expedition with Sanseverino had not inter-
rupted the progress of the poem. In the midst or
the alarms of war and the interruptions of busi-
ness, he continued to add stanza after stanza to
the Amadigi, composing the greater part of the
work on horseback : and, on his return home, at
the conclusion of the war, he set down to complete
it, seeing no reason to dread any farther inter-
ruption to his design. He was not suffered long
to enjoy these hopes. The Viceroy of Naples,
Don Pedro di Toleda, desirous of keeping the
people in stricter subjection to the Emperor, pro-
posed introducing the Inquisition into the pro-
vince : his intention was no sooner known, than the
populace expressed their indignation in the most
open manner, and Don Pedro immediately declared
the city in a state of insurrection. The senti-
ments of the Prince of Salerno were sufficiently
well understood to make the people desirous of in-
teresting him in their favour ; and they accord-

* Seghezzi.

192 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

ingly deputed Carlo Brancazio to represent their
grievances to him, and require his mediation with
the Emperor, that the obnoxious Viceroy might be
removed. Sanseverino consulted Bernardo as to
the measures he ought to pursue, and was advised
by the poet to indulge the people in their request.
But this counsel was strongly opposed by Vincen-
zio Martelli, the major-domo of the Prince, who
was as much in favour of the Viceroy, as Tasso
disliked him. The opinion, however, of Bernardo
was followed, and the Prince set off on his mission,
but proceeded so slowly that the partizans of Don
Pedro anticipated him with the Emperor, and he
only returned to be assailed by assassins, and finall}'
to find himself suspected by the Emperor, and
obliged, for safety, to forsake his dominions, and
join the King of France.

Bernardo was in Rome when he heard that the
territory of Sanseverino was confiscated, and the
Prince himself declared a rebel. For some time,
it appears, he was uncertain in what manner to
proceed, and vacillated between returning to his
home, and following the fortunes of his fallen mas-
ter. He at length resolved upon the latter, and
was accordingly deprived of all his possessions,
and the wrhole of the property he had collected in

BERNARDO TASSO. 193

his elegant residence near Salerno. It is doubted
by one of his biographers whether he was induced
to take this step solely from affection for Sanseve-
rino. " Those who are willing to give full credence
to the words of Tasso," says Seghezzi, te ought with-
out doubt to ascribe this resolution to an abun-
dant gratitude, and to his special love for his mas-
ter, by whom he was so greatly benefited ; but I,
reflecting on the origin of things, am of opinion
that he was induced to follow Sanseverino not from
simple affection, but from the hope of seeing that
Prince, already illustrious in reputation, received
and rewarded by Henry with regal munificence, and
placed in greater honour on account of the treat-
ment he had received from the Emperor, who after
having received so many and such important ser-
vices at his hands, had shown him such little re-
gard; and he was sure that if the Prince should
thus obtain the favour of the King of France, his
incomparable fidelity would meet with a reward
equivalent to what he had lost by this conduct.
Besides which, he had long nourished a deep-
seated hatred to the Spaniards, and was in his

heart a friend of the French All which

affords strong evidence that the resolution which
Tasso took to follow the Prince to the Court of

VOL. II. K

194 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

France, had its origin in the affection he bore the
French ; his hope of obtaining greater advantages
by it; and from his conviction that, if he did not
follow Sanseverino, he should be in constant dan-
ger of insult from the Viceroy arid the Imperial-
ists." Whether this cold arid selfish reasoning was
indeed employed by Bernardo, on the occasion of
his patron's misfortunes, must remain a matter of
doubt ; but we may be glad to know that the sup-
position rests entirely on the fancy of Seghezzi,
who certainly has shown as little enthusiasm for
the hero of his story, as was ever done by the
most indifferent biographer. Giving all due import-
ance to self-interest in summing up the motives
of human action, he ought to have remembered
that many bright instances have occurred in every
age, of great fidelity and affection ; that patrons
have not been at all times treated with neglect
when their fortunes changed; that there were
many reasons to make Bernardo deeply attached to
the Prince of Salerno, and that his character was
sufficiently virtuous and noble to make it more pro-
bable that gratitude rather than selfishness would
influence his actions. The fact is, prudence might
very properly dictate the course he pursued ; but
it does not follow that because fidelity and caution

BERNARDO TASSO. 195

happened in this instance to give the same coun-
sel, the former would not have been preserved had
it been otherwise. Messer Antonio Federigo Se-
ghezzi has indeed neither proved his judgment, nor
increased our opinion of his good feeling, by, ex-
pressing such imaginary doubts of Bernardo's ho-
nesty. Having, however, taken the resolution of
following Sanseverino, our poet removed his wife
and daughter to Naples, where he had provided
them splendid apartments in the palace Gamba-
costi, in order that Porzia might be near her rela-
tives, on whom he vainly hoped she might depend
for comfort in her distress. He then joined the
Prince at Venice, and after spending a few days
at Bergamo, was sent to France in September
1552, where he lost no time in opening his views
to the King, whom he endeavoured to persuade
that, by forming a union with Soliman, he might
attack Naples with certain success, and at once
humble the power of the Emperor. Henry listened
with sufficient attention to these proposals to in-
duce the Prince and Bernardo to hope that they
should be speedily restored in triumph to their
country; but to effect the intended plan, it was
necessary that Sanseverino should proceed to Con-
stantinople to obtain the concurrence of the Sul-
K 2

196 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

tan ; and during his absence in the East, Bernardo
took up his residence at St. Germain's, where he
amused himself with composing several light pieces
of poetry, the chief of which were in praise of
Margaret of Valois. On the return of the Prince,
their hopes of succour were found to have been
false. The Sultan was unwilling to engage in the
project, and Henry on that account still more so.
Bernardo, therefore, having nothing farther to re-
tain him near the person of his patron, returned to
Rome, where he corresponded with him secretly
on the state of their affairs, and the measures to be
adopted for their improvement.

The change which had taken place in his for-
tune, made no alteration in his desire of literary
fame, and having added greatly to his miscellaneous
compositions, he sent his later productions to Lodo-
vico Dolce at Venice, where he had already pub-
lished in 1551 two volumes of letters, under the
care of the same friend. The whole of his former
poems were reprinted with those now sent for pub-
lication, and the work appeared in 1555, beautifully
printed by Gabriel Giolito.* His Amadigi in the
mean time was gradually increasing under his hand,
and in the letter which accompanied the poems

• Serassi.

BERNARDO TASSO. 197

sent to Lodovico for publication, he observes, that
he was approaching the conclusion. In speaking
of his situation at this period, and of his compo-
sitions, he says, " I have delayed, my most gentle
Lodovico, to send you this fourth book from the
desire of at least letting you have the copy well
and correctly written ; but my long and trouble-
some indisposition, though not dangerous, has hin-
dered my doing so. Not to delay the fulfilment of
my wishes, therefore, any longer, I send you them
neither punctuated, nor remarkably correct ; being
certain from the affection you bear me, that you will
not think it too great a fatigue to do that for me
which I have not been able to do for myself. I give
you, therefore, authority not only to alter the writing,
which has* certainly much need of it in many places,
but the sentences and the words ; the opinion I
have of your judgment, and the affection you bear
me, securing me from any danger of suffering by
this confidence. Print, then, the three books of my
Amours first, and then this fourth book with the
dedication to Madame Margherita, .which I hereby
send you, and in the order in which it is to appear.
And as there are in the third book of the Rime
di Diversi Autori, canzoni and sonnets written by
me, but ascribed to M. Randolfo Porrino, and as I

198 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

think the laws allow a man to take his own coat
wherever he finds it, if he know it to be his own,
I have put these same pieces in this book, being
certain that that excellent man, who would pro-
bably not have deigned to place my verses in com-
parison with his, will not be offended at my so
doing. I moreover beg you to pray M. Gabriello
to let the copies which he is to send me as marks
of respect for my friends, be printed on good paper,
and somewhat larger than the rest, and especially
the copy which I intend sending to the Court of
France, and I will pay the expense of the paper."
Dated Rome, October 20, 1554.*

But the pleasure he derived from his literary
occupations, which lightened considerably the
weight of his misfortunes, was suddenly inter-
rupted by the intelligence which reached him, in
the spring of 1556, of the death of his wife. The
affliction he felt at the loss of this amiable woman,
who had won his affections by her virtues and the
tenderness of her disposition, was increased by the
reproaches he made his conscience for having left
her exposed to the machinations of designing rela-
tives. He had scarcely, it seems, proceeded to
France when attempts were made by her brothers

* Lettere, vol. ii. p. 144.

BERNARDO TASSO. 199

to deprive her of her fortune. In vain did she
strive to escape their persecutions and rejoin her
husband, who sighed for her presence in Rome.
So skilfully did they pursue their plans that to
leave the country would, she knew, be the means
of immediately depriving her children of support.
All she could do, therefore, was to remove with her
daughter to the convent of S. Festo, and send Tor-
quato to Rome. She was still, however, involved
in distressing law-suits and altercations, which he;r
health and spirits were ill calculated to support.
The result was such as might have been expected :
two-thirds of her dowry were taken from her, a
drawback of fifteen hundred ducats was made on
the income previously received, and at the end of
the suits the unfortunate lady died, if not broken-
hearted, so oppressed by the various troubles she
had had to contend with, that her husband attri-
buted her death almost solely to that cause.

The circumstances which had thus contributed
so materially to deprive Bernardo of his affec-
tionate consort, affected him also in another way.
His property having been almost entirely dis-
sipated, all he had left for his support was the
allowance he received from Sanseverino; but that
Prince, either from the bad state of his own cir-

200 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

cumstances, or from having less regard for his
secretary, now that his talents were of little use to
him, neglected to remit the pension, and Bernardo
was left in a situation of extreme difficulty. In
a letter written to the Prince soon after the death
of his wife, he expresses himself with feelings
which seem to have partaken both of sorrow and
anger. His letters and applications, he says, had
all been left unanswered : " In my last," continues
he, " I informed you of the death of my unfortu-
nate wife, with the total ruin of my miserable
children, who by the loss of their mother are de-
prived of their inheritance and the only hope and
support of their lives. Think, my Lord, what
must be my situation, and whether I do not stand
in need of consolation and assistance ; yet I must
confess that your conduct towards me distresses
me more than all my losses and troubles. One
satisfaction only remains to me, and it is the clear-
ness of my conscience, the faithful witness of my
actions, which were always directed by my wish to
serve and honour you, nor have I the slightest
cause of remorse, nor the least suspicious circum-
stance, to deface the purity of that conscience.
I do not wish to reprove you by enume-
rating my services, but your Excellency knows and

BERNARDO TASSO. 201

the world knows my fidelity, which has been exhi-
bited as openly as a drama in a theatre; — God,
from whom no secret of the heart can be hidden,
knows it, and as He has seen that no prince could
be served with more fidelity, with more affection
than I have served you, so I pray that He may
either inspire your Excellency to reward my ser-
vices with that liberality of mind which becomes a
grateful and virtuous prince, or that He may give
me patience to support my wrongs and provide
for my necessities."*

This letter does not appear to have had the
effect of moving the Prince's attention, as we find
Bernardo shortly after writing to him again, and
expressing his increased distress at the neglect
with which he finds himself treated. " If, illus-
trious Signior," says he, " it be lawful for a vir-
tuous cavalier to yield up a castle or a city long
besieged, on which the safety of a prince and a
nation depends because of famine, I may well and
with a good conscience relieve my mind of that
devotion to your Excellency, which I have pre-
served for twenty-seven years, and transfer it to
another. I did not lose my friends, squander
away my very wardrobe, destroy my credit, suffer

* Lettere, vol. ii. p. 17Q.
K 5

202 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

innumerable hardships to come to this — I have
applied myself for relief and made the application
by others, but you have not only disdained to pro-
vide for my wants, but even to answer my letters,
or those which have been written on my behalf,
hoping by that means to remove the useless burden
from your shoulders. And this you have done, but
not in a manner favourable to your reputation,
the world knowing that I have served you with the

fidelity and love which we owe to God

My long service and loyalty, and the loss I have
suffered of my fortune, merit not this return. Re-
member that God, the righteous judge of our
actions, will not without anger see you making a
beggar of a poor unfortunate son, and burning up
by your ingratitude as with a fire, all that is neces-
sary to support his existence. Examine well your
conscience; consider your conduct towards me,
and what the world will think of you. I shall seek,
as I can do no otherwise, the service of some other
prince ; you have enjoyed the energies of my
youth, another will purchase me as an old horse —
worthy of a place in his stable on account of his
former reputation." * He then tells him that he has
still a faithful regard for him, and concludes by

* Lettere, vol. ii. p. 401.

BERNARDO TASSO. 203

urgently intreating him to send the three hundred
scudi he is in advance, in order that he may re-
deem his wardrobe, the whole of which was in
pledge, arid pay his debts. This letter is dated
August 5, 1558, and met with the same treatment
as those formerly sent. Bernardo, therefore, find-
ing himself entirely deserted by his patron, applied
the following year to Rui Gomez, Prince of Evoli,
to obtain his interference with his Majesty. In
the letter which contains this request he enters
into a full account of the various vicissitudes of
his life, and describes himself as left old and poor
with his children, and as being sunk still deeper
in misery by the death of his beloved and unfortu-
nate wife, and the persecutions which had deprived
his children of their inheritance. The style in
which he expresses himself on this occasion is re-
markably florid. Speaking of the Prince, he says,
" As God has placed the sun in the heavens, a
most beauteous and joyful image of himself, and
which, by its lucid and fertilizing rays diffused
among all created things, nourishes, increases, and
vivifies them, so has he placed the Prince on the
earth that he may imitate him by extending over
men the arms of his benignity and clemency."
Bernardo having thus found that neither re-

204 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

monstrance nor entreaty could move his patron,
at length determined to fix himself at Rome, and,
taking the habit of a priest, pass the remainder of
his life in the service of religion: but he had
no sooner formed this resolution than intelligence
arrived that the Imperial forces had occupied
Ostia, Tivoli, and the whole neighbourhood of the
city. As they were daily expected to -continue
their march to the very walls of Rome, he knew
that he could only remain there with the greatest
peril, and with some difficulty he contrived to
escape accompanied by two servants, and taking
with him nothing more than a few clothes and his
poems. He bent his course to Ravenna, where he
proposed staying till the situation of Rome should
be altered; but the Duke of Urbino no sooner
heard of his arrival than he sent him an urgent
invitation to Pesaro, where he appointed for his
residence the Stanza del Barchetto, which had
been built by his father for the sole enjoyment of
the literary pleasures to which he was devoted.
Here Bernardo found repose from the toils he had
suffered so many years, and was enabled to heal
the wounds his late misfortunes had inflicted by
undisturbed reflection. He now also sent for his
son Torquato, and had the delight of seeing the

BERNARDO TASSO. 205

promises of his infancy present every appearance
of being fulfilled ; having, previous to his own
departure from Rome, sent him on a visit to his
relations at Bergamo, from whom he had the grati-
fication of receiving intelligence which confirmed
his hopes of Torquato's future eminence. Thus
relieved from the anxieties, to which the ruin of
his fortunes had given birth, secure in the enjoy-
ment of a tranquil home, and animated by the
prospect of seeing his son become worthy of his
name, he gave himself up to the correction and
completion of his Amadigi, which was at last
made ready for the press. Bernardo had con-
ceived the most sanguine expectations respecting
the success of this work, and from the interest
with which its appearance was looked for in
all the literary circles of Europe, he had reason
to hope that it would permanently establish his
fame.

But the printing of so long a work as the
Amadigi, was an undertaking of no slight expense,
and to a man in Bernardo's situation, was not to
be easily accomplished. It is, therefore, creditable
to the Venetian academicians of that age, to have
it left on record that they offered to print the
work at the expense of their establishment. The

206 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

anxiety, however, which Bernardo felt to profit
by the publication, prevented his accepting this
offer, and he had the good fortune to obtain the
kind assistance of the Duke his protector, the Car-
dinal di Tornone, and others, towards the expenses.*
Having received, therefore, the contributions of
his friends, he set off for Venice in 1558, to super-
intend the printing himself, and had the pleasure
of seeing his work appear with all the correctness
and elegance an author could desire. Besides the
Amadigi, his " Rime" were also printed at the same
time, and the second volume of his Letters ; and
two years after, that is in 1562, his " Ragiona-
mento," which he had previously recited before
the academy.

But about the same period the attention of Ber-
nardo was recalled from literature to the cares of his
family. His daughter, whom he loved with the ten-
derest affection, and whose virtues and beauty were
equal to those of the lamented Porzia, was married
without his consent to Marzio Sersale, a poor gentle-
man of Sorrento. The union, it appears, had been
accomplished through the unjust intervention of
Scipio Rossi, one of her maternal relatives, and
the father regarded the circumstance as adding

* Serassi.

BERNARDO TASSO. 207

greatly to his former distresses, it having always
been his hope that Cornelia, by being settled near
him, would be able to comfort him in his old age,
and in some measure supply by her attentions the
place of her mother ; but having married a person
whose residence was in the territory of Naples, he
lost all hope of enjoying her "society, and therefore
most deeply lamented the event. So good a re-
port, however, was shortly brought him of the
virtues of his son-in-law, that he gradually ceased
to complain, and wrote to Marzio expressing his
paternal feelings towards him. " Your letters,"
says he, " are very dear to me, and if I consented
not to your marriage, it was not on your account,
but from a desire that my daughter should marry
in a part of the country where I might enjoy, from
frequently seeing her, that consolation which an
affectionate parent looks for. But since it has
pleased God, who rules all things according to his
will, to order it thus, I have already made his will
mine, and look upon you now in the same manner
as if you had been chosen by me for a son-in-law,
only wishing that Cornelia had not used those ex-
pressions towards me and her brother which be-
come not an affectionate and pious daughter; but
I pardon all, and am afflicted that the righteous

208 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

Judge has punished her as he has done."* The last
words allude to a loss Cornelia and her husband
had lately suffered by the descent of some corsairs
on Sorrento, and from whose hands, it appears from
another letter of Bernardo, they themselves had a
very narrow escape.

The attention which Bernardo experienced at
Venice was of the most flattering description.
There were residing there at that time his friend
Lodovico Dolce, and several other literary ac-
quaintances, who honoured his talents, and re-
ceived him among them as a valuable addition to
their circle. Shortly after his arrival he was elect-
ed, through their recommendations, secretary of
the academy, and had a regular stipend appointed
him in virtue of his office. His circumstances
being thus considerably improved, and his spirits
becoming better every day, he hired a handsome
house, which, having always had a taste for elegant
furniture, as appeared by his residence at Sorrento,
he fitted up in a style of comparative magnificence.
He had at the same time sent for Torquato, who
reached Venice a few months after his own arrival
there, and who found that city as agreeable to his
.taste as it was to his father's.

* Lettere, vol. ii. p. 473.

BERNARDO TASSO. 209

Bernardo, as it has been said, placed the greatest
hopes both of reputation and pecuniary advantage
on the publication of the Amadigi, nor had he
neglected to employ any means which appeared
likely to produce the desired results. He had
begun it, it is affirmed, in order to please his pa-
tron and the nobles of the Spanish Court, with
whom he happened to be for a time associated.
According to his own judgment, it would have ap-
peared better in the grave and sonorous heroic
measure, but at their suggestion, he complacently
undertook to rival Ariosto. In the original plan of
the story, the rules of the epic were followed with
the most careful attention ; there was to be but a
single action, and the design was so perfect and
regular, according to Torquato, that the most rigid
critic could not have found fault with it ; but ac-
cording to the same authority we learn that his
desire of pleasing his patron overcame his better
judgment, or rather, that he was willing to sacrifice
his character as a poet to his ambition as a cour-
tier. Having composed, it seems, some of the first
cantos after his own plan, he read them to the
Prince, and at the commencement of the reading,
either the reputation he already possessed, or cu-
riosity to hear so interesting a romance as the

210 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

Amadis versified in Italian, collected a large num-
ber of nobles and gentlemen of the court ; before,
however, he arrived at the conclusion of this essay,
the room was nearly empty, and he concluded
from this circumstance that if he meant to please,
he must not attempt to do so by unity of design
or action, and he accordingly, though as Torquato
says, unwillingly, complied with the desires of
Sanseverino, and forsook the rules of Aristotle and
the. critics, for the suggestions of the Court. But
he not only changed the style and plan of the poem
in obedience to the will of those from whom he
expected promotion, but subsequently altered even
the characters from a similar motive. The Duke
of Urbino, who was as true a friend as he had
ever possessed, was anxious that he might reap all
the advantage from the publication he expected,
and as he was now himself connected with the
Spanish monarch, Philip II., he hoped that Ber-
nardo might by proper management obtain a re-
versal of the decree which banished him and con-
fiscated his property. The poet, unwilling to lose
any opportunity for effecting such an object, con-
sented to follow the Duke's advice, and instead of
dedicating the work to Henry II. of France, as he
had always intended, resolved to bring it out under

BERNARDO TASSO. 211

the patronage of Philip. But this determination
made it necessary to change not merely the de-
dication, but some very important parts of the
poem. It contained in its original shape, and just
as it was about to appear, several long passages
in praise of the French King and different mem-
bers of his family ; the personages also of the tale
represented, in more than one instance, individuals
of the royal house ; the change in the dedication
made it necessary that all these should be either
removed or modified in such a manner as to
conceal the proper intention of the author. Ber-
nardo, therefore, could be charged with no im-
prudent obstinacy with regard to his poem; few
authors were ever more willing to follow advice
than he appears to have been ; and were the for-
tune of a man of letters to be made by such means,
Bernardo Tasso must surely have acquired one.
Nor did he rest satisfied with merely attending to
the composition of the work. He laid all his plans
respecting the publication with the greatest cau-
tion. Having taken the advice of many of the best
critics respecting its correctness, he next carefully
calculated in what manner he might best secure
its producing him a profitable return for his la-
bours. Rejecting, as we have seen, the interference

212 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

of the Academy, he very prudently formed an ar-
rangement with the printer, Gabriel Giolito, by
which he freed himself from a part of the risk, and
was probably enabled to bring out the work in a
style of elegance superior to that which his own re-
sources, although assisted as he was, would have
enabled him to afford. He even hoped to persuade
Giolito to illustrate the whole poem with engrav-
ings, but the undertaking was found to be too great,
and he was well contented to send some of the
best copies to his noble friends elegantly bound.
But notwithstanding all these preparations, the
complacency with which he attended to the wishes
of Princes and courtiers, and the care he bestowed
on the arrangements which concerned the pub-
lication, the Amadigi was far from obtaining the
success which the author expected. The hundred
and fifty persons to whom he sent copies did little
more than return him civil thanks for the com-
pliment; and what was more distressing to him,
Philip, who he hoped would be moved by the de-
dication to restore him to his former condition,
treated it with indifference, and left the poet un-
rewarded and unnoticed.

A stronger lesson was never read to authors
than this of Bernardo's on the subject of patronage.

BERNARDO TASSO. 213

His weak yielding to the caprices of those about
him, marred his original purpose in the composi-
tion of his poem, and thereby took away that plea-
sure which a writer feels when following his ima-
gination on the path where they first met. The
poet must be alone with his Muse, and believe in
her infallibility and sanctity, or she will reveal
none of those mysteries of his art by which he is
to make the world venerate him as a superior
being. The instant he allows himself to be drawn
from the track on which he first felt his thoughts
brightening into forms of beauty and glory, to
doubt the potency of the charm that has led him
among scenes originally indistinct, but becoming
clearer and more enchanting as he proceeds, or
to forget the delight he experienced when his
dreams began to assume the appearance of reality,
and he felt how precious is the power which gives
unlimited dominion over even one province of
imagination ; — the moment he did this, he lost
the advantageous position necessary to the success
of the greatest genius, and without which ability
of an inferior kind is unable to act at all. So long
as an author follows the teachings of his heart,
and works by the model which exists in his own
mind, he will at any rate be sure of producing

214 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

compositions as excellent to the full extent as the
character of his intellect. The ideas and plans
which a man knows to be his own, he instinctively
developes with more care than he does those which
are only adopted, and thus whether it be a poem,
a problem in science, or even a mechanical inven-
tion, excellence will only be in proportion to ori-
ginality, because it is this alone which can excite
that intellectual energy which gives either strength
or beauty to the thoughts.

The little good which Bernardo had derived
from the publication of his works rendered him by
no means desirous that his son should become a
poet. He had sent him in 1560 to Padua, where
he wished him to study the civil law, as affording
the best means of repairing the injuries he had
suffered from the adverse fortunes of his parents.
But Torquato, instead of devoting himself to the
pursuits necessary to his future profession, com-
menced his poem of " Rinaldo," which he con-
tinued with sufficient diligence to complete and
prepare for publication in about a year after-
wards. The work when finished appeared to
possess sufficient merit to authorize its publi-
cation, and the wishes of the young author were
supported by the opinion of Girolamo Molino,

BERNARDO TASSO. 215

Dominico Vemiro, and other literary men of
distinction, who applied to Bernardo for his per-
mission to print it. For some time he resisted,
both from an unwillingness to encourage his son in
the cultivation of poetry, and from a fear that the
work might not be fit to appear before the public.
At length, however, his consent was obtained, and
he signified this favourable change in his senti-
ments to Cesare Pavesi, one of Torquato's friends,
and a respectable poet himself.* "I am certain,
my most gentle Signior," says he, " that loving my
son as you do, and as you have fully shown, you
are as ready to correct him when you see any
thing requiring correction, and which from the fer-
vour of youthful vanity must often be the case, as
you are to excuse him — that if affection excites
the one, prudence and the laws of true friendship
do the same with the other — I have, therefore,
placed more confidence in your letters than I
should in many others, and I thank you for your
kind offices, as well on my own account as on that
of my son, desiring that some opportunity may
occur by which I may be able to show my grati-
tude. With regard to the publication of Torquato's
poem, although as a loving father and jealous of

* Seghezzi.

216 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

his honour I should have wished the contrary, I
cannot but consent to satisfy the desires of so
many gentlemen who have requested its publica-
tion in preference to following my own desire and
judgment. I am aware that the poem is not other-
wise than an extraordinary production for a young
man of eighteen, both the invention and language
being worthy of praise, and the wandering lights of
poetry which are scattered through it ; but I wished
to have seen it all before it was printed, and to have
examined it more accurately than I could in so
short a time. But to oppose oneself to the intense
desire of a young man, which like a full torrent of
many waters rushes on to its end, would be a vain
fatigue, and much more so as he is assisted by the
interest of two such learned and judicious spirits
as Vemiro and Molino, as well as many others. At
any rate, he stands in much need of your aid, and
that of all his other friends, that the work may be
correctly printed, and I beg you very earnestly to
take care of this. I am not able in this my poor
fortune to offer you any other testimony of my
friendship, than my will to render you all attention
and service."*

This letter is dated April 1562, and in the same
year Torquato's Rinaldo was printed at Venice

* Lettere, vol. ii. p. 501.

BERNARDO TASSO. 217

by Francesco Sanese. In the following year Ber-
nardo had the pleasure of receiving an invitation
from Guglielmo Gonzaga, Duke of Mantua, to
whose court he immediately proceeded, and was
appointed his chief secretary. The favour he en-
joyed with his new patron considerably improved
his circumstances, but in a letter to Pallavicino,
dated from Mantua, March 30, 1563, he still com-
plains of his situation : " It grieves me," he says,
"that our friendship has commenced in this my
poor and adverse fortunes, and in which you can
promise yourself so little advantage from my ac-
quaintance— not because I fail in the desire of
assisting you, but because my means fail me."*

There is no doubt, however, that, placed as he
now was in the court of one of the most powerful
of the Italian princes, he no longer suffered the
anxieties to which he was formerly exposed ; and
Pallavicino, in his reply to the letter quoted above,
observes, that though he might find in the ex-
amples of the many great men who had suffered
poverty sufficient reasons to bear even the most
hopeless necessity with patience, this could never
be the lot of the most renowned Tasso, since the
princes of the world would be always forced to

* Lettere, vol. ii. pp, 505. 507.
VOL. II. L

218 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

have recourse to his counsels and prudence. But
occupied as his attention appears to have been
with the affairs of the Duke, he found leisure for
composition, and, soon after his removal to Man-
tua, formed the design of making a complete poem
out of the episode of Floridante in the Amadigi.
The idea of this work was so pleasing to his mind
that he made a formal memorandum of the day of
the month and week when he began to write it :
" In the name of God," says the inscription on the
title of the manuscript, "I commenced my Flori-
dante on Wednesday, November 24, 1563." His
multiplied occupations, however, prevented his
completing the work, but it was revised and pre-
pared for the press, after his death, by his son,
who published it with a dedication to the Duke of
Mantua. The manuscript of this work was shown
to Seghezzi by Apostolo Zeno, and was remarked
by him to be written in the clearest and most
beautiful hand, which, it is also farther observed
by the same author, characterised all the manu-
scripts of Bernardo, while the hand-writing of his
son was as remarkable for indistinctness and incor-
rectness.

But the life of this illustrious father cf a more
illustrious son was now drawing to a close ; after

BERNARDO TASSO. 219

having received various marks of respect and affec-
tion from Gonzaga, he was appointed by that
prince Governor of Ostiglia, in which situation he
died? September 4, 1569, and was buried by the
Duke with every demonstration of honour in the
church of St. Egidio, at Mantua, where shortly
after a monument was raised to his memory by the
same munificent patron. The inscription on the
tomb was simply " Ossa Bernardi Tassi," and the
Duke could not have better shown his sincere ad-
miration of the poet's genius than by thus indicating
how sacred was the spot where his ashes were in-
terred. The same feeling was manifested in other
respects by Gonzaga, it being his especial command
that two pieces of tapestry, which formerly belonged
to Bernardo, and bore the arms of the Tassi and
Rossi, should be preserved with the greatest care
among his most valued arrede. But the remains of
Torquato's father were not suffered to repose undis-
turbed : some repairs having been ordered in the
church, the monument was destroyed, to the great
grief of the pious son; but it is asserted, from some
expressions in one of his letters, that the body was
on account of this circumstance removed to the
church of St. Paul at Ferrara.*

* Seghezzi.
L 2

220 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

The character of Bernardo had many points
which rendered him worthy of esteem. He was
faithfully attached to his friends, and in the rela-
tions of domestic life was inspired with the ten-
derest and most ardent affection. His letters to
his wife are filled with expressions of earnest
solicitude for her happiness, and of impatience at
the cruel necessity which so long and fatally sepa-
rated them. In speaking of her to his friends he
employed a language which would not have seemed
wanting in devotion had it come from the lips of a
youthful lover. The sorrow he felt at her death
was deep and lasting ; and it is worthy of remark
that his life, unsettled as it was, appears to have
been unstained by any irregularity or licentious-
ness of passion. His attention to the welfare of
his children was equally meritorious. The senti-
ments he expressed at the marriage of Cornelia
were full of parental tenderness, and in all the
letters in which any allusion is made to Torquato,
he speaks with the fond enthusiasm of a father,
whose solicitude for his son's popularity in the
world was only exceeded by his desire of seeing
him happy. In his conduct towards others he
seems to have been uniformly instigated by feel-
ings of kindness and humanity, and to have avoid-

BERNARDO TASSO. 221

ed, by every means in his power, the excesses to
which his poetical temperament might have other-
wise led him. " The mind of man," says he, in a
letter to the Cavalier Tassi, " has so many caverns
in which to hide itself, that it is difficult to dis-
cover them all. I measure others by my own;
nor am I willing to believe of others that which I
am not able to prove in myself. I have a heart
full of humanity and tenderness, — more ready to
pardon than to revenge, — for which I think I
rather deserve praise than blame."

Among the friends whom he acquired by the re-
putation of his talents, and retained by his virtues
to the end of his days, were Cardinal Bembo, Bro-
cardo, Speroni, Luigi Friuli, Vittoria Colonna, who
assisted him in his difficulties, besides many others
who were esteemed either for their learning or their
genius. His acquaintance with Aretino was, as
we have seen, interrupted by the jealousy of the
satirist, and it is a matter of wonder how a person
of Bernardo's amiable and virtuous character could
ever have formed an intimacy with so immoral and
vindictive a man ; but literary reputation was suffi-
cient in those days to make men of the most oppo-
site feelings associate with each other, and in the
learned societies of Florence and Venice there

222 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

might be found characters in close union, which
in the present day, when the population of the
literary world is so much greater, would form them-
selves into different parties, each the antipodes of
the other.

In his person Bernardo is said to have been tall
and well formed, to have had a broad forehead,
penetrating eyes, and a thick curling beard ; while
his light and muscular frame enabled him to in-
dulge in the most active pursuits, and rendered
him remarkable for the easy gracefulness of his
deportment.

It remains but to speak of the literary merits of
this excellent man ; and if we allow that he pos-
sessed only a portion of the genius for w^hich his
contemporaries, and even some later critics, gave
him credit, there are few authors who have suf-
fered more from the capriciousness of popular
taste. At the time he wrote, romantic poetry was
in full vogue, and the charm of Ariosto's fancy
had opened the golden gates of a fairy wilderness,
where it seemed generations of poets might wander
and be ever discovering something new to delight
the world. Nor could it be considered that it was
by the peculiar originality of the Orlando Furioso
that Ariosto obtained such signal success; the

BERNARDO TASSO. 223

foundation of the story was already known through-
out Italy and Europe, and it only professed to be
the continuation of a poem which by its very po-
pularity rendered it more difficult to engraft any
thing new on the same stock. From the success,
therefore, of the Orlando, and the disposition of
the public to receive that species of poetry with
favour, it might be fairly hoped both by Bernardo
and his friends that his design would prove suc-
cessful, and, if not rival, at least be only second to
that of Ariosto. Had these expectations been
founded either on the vanity of the author, or the
inexperienced judgment of his friends, it would
create little surprise to find they were disap-
pointed; but this was not the case. The talents
of Bernardo had been proved by the composition
of many lighter pieces of considerable merit and
popularity, and his fame as a poet was extended
far and wide. The work, therefore, appeared with
every advantage which the name of an author
can confer upon a publication, and in addition to
the influence he possessed with his immediate ac-
quaintances to aid its circulation, he numbered, as
we have seen, among his friends several men whose
testimony to the merits of the poem must have
tended greatly to assist its circulation. Still far-

224 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

ther, the work itself is allowed to possess all the
requisites of a good poem, when considered sepa-
rately. " Its style," says Tiraboschi, " is elegant,
and the versification harmonious and sweet ; the
stanzas are well arranged, and the fable, though
drawn from a well-known romance, is ornamented
with a variety of incidents created by the fancy
and imagination of the poet. Notwithstanding
all which, and though Speroni placed it before the
Orlando Furioso, and it was considered by others
as the best poem they had till then seen, I believe
there are very few who have had the courage to
read it through — for," continues the historian,
" neither are the incidents so arranged as to hold
the reader in suspense and lure him on, nor has the
style that attractive variety, now rising into splen-
dour and now becoming humble without losing its
dignity, which seduces and charms, and prevents
the reader from feeling disgust or weariness." *

This was, without doubt, the true cause of Ber-
nardo's failure. His mind was cultivated, and his
taste refined and elegant ; but he appears to have
wanted that fervent and luxurious fancy, which
was the principal characteristic of Ariosto's genius,
and without which no writer should venture on the

* Storia della Let. Ital.

BERNARDO TASSO. 225

composition of romantic poetry. There is, however,
another cause assigned for the ill success of the
Amadigi, and it has been ingeniously argued by
a learned and elegant author,* that the failure must
be attributed to the common acquaintance which
almost every person of the age had with the ro-
mance of Amadis. The extensive circulation, in-
deed, both of this and other old tales of chi-
valry is unquestionable : they formed the favou-
rite reading of persons in all classes of society,
for society itself still felt the full influence of the
customs and sentiments they were intended to re-
present. There was also a variety of incident in
these works, a richness of colouring in the scenes,
and a plainness, but strong, simple pathos in the
language, which went at once home to the hearts
of the readers ; and these old romances supplied
the place of both history, poetry, and the drama,
and were, besides this, the very oracles of morality,
truth, and honour. The romance of Amadis, which
has always been regarded as the most excellent
of the legends of chivalry, thus obtained a very
general circulation, and, as it had been translated
into most of the foreign languages, its popularity
was confined neither to Portugal, its native coun-

* Dr. Black.
L 5

226 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

try, nor Italy, but extended throughout Europe.
" Such being the case," argues the author above
alluded to, " it was as ill-judged in Bernardo to
choose the fable of Amadis for the subject of his
work, as it would be in a modern to versify the
' Telemaque,' or even to convert into poetry any
well-known historical events. Not an incident
could be altered without danger ; and besides, when
a work attains a certain degree of merit, it fastens
itself on the imagination, and every change which
is made appears a defect. No one is ignorant of
the fate of amendments on well-known dramatic
compositions : nor is this ill success to be attributed
merely to the want of merit in such amendments,
but in a high degree to the nature of the thing."
" On this account," he farther observes, " and in fact
from the nature of the case, Bernardo must, at
that time, have failed of success, had he possessed
all the ease of Ariosto, and all the grandeur of his
own illustrious son."

This, however, is attributing too much import-
ance, I conceive, to the fable. It is well known
that many of the most popular works of fiction
have been formed on tales already widely circu-
lated, and the characters of which were all familiar
to the public. The Amadis, it is true, was longer

BERNARDO TASSO. 227

and more perfect in its parts than most of the
legends from which poets have delighted to draw
their materials : but the manner of treating a sub-
ject in prose and verse, if the writers possess any
originality whatever, is necessarily so different,
that the reader of the tale in prose will discover
little resemblance between the original fiction and
such as it appears from the hand of the poet.
Were the latter, indeed, to aim at nothing more
than simply putting chapter after chapter of the
romance into rhyme, all that is said by Dr. Black
would hold true ; but neither Bernardo nor any other
writer, of even moderate talent, ever formed such a
project as this. Though they have taken the fable
and principal characters, they have either changed or
modified the incidents, and by that means given an
original interest to their works — an interest vary-
ing, of course, according to the fruitfulness of their
invention, but showing how possible it is for a
writer, possessing sufficient genius for the purpose,
to form a poem abounding in novelty, and the most
powerful attractions of fancy, though the charac-
ters he describes be as well known as the gods of
Greece and Rome to the readers of Homer and
Virgil.

But, even allowing that Bernardo's Amadigi

228 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

possessed little interest to persons well acquaint-
ed with the original Amadis, this would only ac-
count for its want of sudden popularity. The old
romances retained their place in literature but a
comparatively short period after its publication, and
have now, for some ages past, been only known
to the curious : had the Amadigi, therefore, prin-
cipally failed of success from the unfavourableness
of the subject, the lapse of a century would have
placed it on an equality with the noble productions
of Italy, which are read and admired by all the
world. But, though the story of Amadis is now
almost as little known as if it had never been
written, and the Amadigi, therefore, has all the
advantage it could have reaped from a fable wholly
original, it has at no period obtained the atten-
tion of general readers, or falsified the remark of
Tiraboschi, that there are very few persons who
have had the courage to read it through. The
truth is, with all the talents which Bernardo un-
doubtedly possessed — with great command of lan-
guage— a heart breathing the most purely poetical
sentiments — a fancy sufficiently active to command
a succession of pleasing images, and a taste natu-
rally acute, and rendered still more so by the study
of the best authors — with all these qualifications

BERNARDO TASSO. 229

of a poet, and which enabled him to write smaller
pieces of considerable beauty, he wanted that power
of invention, which not only creates incidents, but
arranges and combines them ; not merely present-
ing to the mind objects to excite its occasional ad-
miration, but placing it in a flowery labyrinth, along
which it may wander without any interruption to
its reveries, receiving, indeed, its chief delight from
the very feeling that the charm of the poet is con-
tinuous ; that wherever he trod became enchanted
ground, and that whatever he touched was endowed
with new life and glory. In the Orlando Furioso the
reader feels this to be the case — like the knight who
passed through forests and over floods interminable,
in search of some unknown beauty, he obeys the
voice of the poet, and is led on from canto to canto,
in the constant expectation of some splendid dis-
covery, and finding in every stanza he reads some-
thing new to urge him on in the pursuit. In this
supreme excellence of the Orlando Furioso, the
Amadigi is greatly deficient, and therefore fails
in that most important requisite of a romantic
poem — the power of exciting and keeping alive
the attention : to which it may be added, that
while Ariosto scattered his splendid flowers with
the profusion of one who had inexhaustible re-

230 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

sources, Bernardo let them fall sparingly and with
caution ; whereas the poetry of romance, to fulfil
its proper purpose, must be as rich as human in-
vention can make it, and continually keep the mind
of the reader in willing subjection by the ceaseless
glow and beauty of its style.

The Floridante may be regarded as little dif-
ferent to the Amadigi, of which it was originally,
as has been observed, only an episode. The first
eight cantos are nearly the same as they appeared in
connection with the longer poem — the other eleven
are entirely new ; but the work was never com-
pleted, and it is not easy to say whether Bernardo,
long left to himself in his government of Ostiglia,
would have worked with greater or less success than
he did at Sorrento or Pesaro. His other poems con-
sist of five books of " Rime," eclogues, hymns, odes,
and elegies, most of which are much admired for
the elegance of their style. The " Ragionamento"
is a discourse on poetry, and was considered, as we
have seen, worthy of great attention at the time
of its appearance. The letters of Bernardo are
very numerous, and though objected against on
account of an occasional stiffness and pedantry in
the language, they are, in general, very beautiful
specimens of the epistolary style of the period,

BERNARDO TASSO. 231

when literary men began to regard their letters
as being part of their works, and, therefore, as
fit for publication as their poems, or any other
of their compositions. Aretino boasted of being
the first whose epistles were published ; and, with
the exception of one or two collections, made
from the letters of some religious confessors, his
claim to the honour appears to have been just ;
and it has been already mentioned, how jealous he
was of the reputation which belonged to him as
a letter-writer. The epistles of Bernardo are, it
will be easily conceived, as different as possible from
those of the satirist, but the admirable sentiments
they convey, together with the excellence of their
language, render them highly pleasing as composi-
tions, while as documents of the poet's life, and of the
youth of Torquato, they are inestimably important.
Of Bernardo's numerous literary acquaintances
there were several who made a conspicuous figure
at the period when they lived, but their works are
little known to the modern reader. Among these
was Atanagi, a man of considerable ability, and
whose life was as much chequered by misfortune
as that of his more renowned friend Bernardo. In
the early part of his career, he is said to have
joined with two of his acquaintances in the design

232 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

of seeking their fortunes in common ; but the en-
terprise failed, and Atanagi settled himself at Rome,
where he lived for twenty-five years, in the con-
stant hope that his talents would meet with the
patronage they deserved, but found himself as con-
stantly disappointed in his expectations. He was,
at length, however, appointed Secretary to Giovanni
Giudiccione, Governor of Marca, and he began to
conceive new hopes of prosperity : but his patron
died shortly after his obtaining the office, and he was
again left comparatively destitute. Sickness as
well as poverty now assailed him, and he was only
preserved from absolute want by the liberality of
the Cardinal Ridolfo Pio di Carpi, whose aid he
obtained by means of a sonnet he addressed to him,
beseeching his assistance. The death of Claudio
Tolomei, his oldest and most tried benefactor, made
him determine to leave Rome, and, in the year
1557, he set out on his return to his native pro-
vince, but so weak and reduced by sickness, that
he was obliged to travel in a litter. This occurred
in October, and in the following December he re-
ceived an invitation from the Duke of Urbino to
proceed to his court, in order to assist in correct-
ing the Amadigi. The invitation was accepted
with much pleasure, and, in answer to the Duke's

BERNARDO TASSO. 233

letter, Atanagi expressed himself highly gratified
by the honour which such a circumstance conferred
upon him. The reception he met with, both from
the Duke and the learned men assembled at his
court, compensated, in some measure for the neg-
lect he had experienced at Rome ; and, in a poem
written soon after his arrival, he paid a well-merit-
ed compliment to the liberality of his noble host: —

Anime belle, e di virtute amiche

Cui fero sdegno di fortuna offende j

Si. che veu gite povere, e mendiche

Come a lei piace, che pieta contende :

Se di por fine a le miserie antiche

Caldo desio 1'afflitto cor v' accende ;

Ratio correte a la gran Quercia d' oro,

Onde avrete alimento, ombra, e ristoro.
Qui regna un Signor placido, e benigno, &c.

Exalted spirits ! friends of virtue, whom
Fortune with hate and fierce disdain pursues ;
Who, poor and friendless, weep a hopeless doom,
The sport of her whom pity woos in vain ;
If in your sorrowing hearts the thought arise,
To seek some shelter from your ancient woes,
There, where the oak of gold from dark'ning skies
A skreen affords, and aliment bestows —
There seek thy rest, for there a Prince benign
The sceptre sways

234 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

But his anxiety to perform the work of correc-
tion to the satisfaction of Bernardo and the Duke,
had so great an effect on his weak constitution,
that before finishing it he was obliged to retire
into the country to nurse himself. He is, how-
ever, supposed to have taken a part in seeing the
poem through the press, as he accompanied Ber-
nardo to Venice, apparently for that purpose. He
continued to reside in that city during the remainder
of his life, maintaining himself by correcting works
for publication, and by giving critical opinions to dif-
ferent authors who applied to him. It is not pre-
cisely known in what year he died, but it is said to
have occurred some time between 1567 and 1574.*

Sperone Speroni degli Alvarotti was another of
Bernardo Tasso's distinguished contemporaries and
associates. This celebrated scholar was born at
Padua, April the 12th, 1500, and was a descendant
of one of the most ancient families in Italy .f His
abilities being discovered at an early period of his
youth, he was placed under Pietro Pomponazio,
the professor of philosophy in the university of
Padua; but the disturbed state of the country,
owing to the league of Cambray, put Pomponazio
and the rest of the professors to flight, and almost

* Mazzucbelli. t Opere, Ven. 1740- Forcellini.

BERNARDO TASSO. 235

the only learned man who remained firm at his
post was Bernardo, the father of Sperone, who
taught and practised medicine with great repute
and success. Bernardo, however, on the accession
of Leo X. was invited to Rome, and on leaving
Padua placed his son at Bologna under his former
master. Sperone pursued the study as well of phi-
losophy as of polite literature with the greatest
ardour for several years, and having taken the
degree of Doctor and returned to his native town,
was honoured with the friendship of all the most
learned men both of that city and Venice, which
he repeatedly visited, and where he taught philo-
sophy. The first interruption he appears to have
received to his zealous pursuit of eminence as
a scholar was his allowing himself to be per-
suaded by his relatives to marry. The lady
chosen for him was rich and of a noble family,
but she had no attractions either of mind or per-
son sufficiently great to secure his affections, and
he confessed to his friends that it was their counsel,
not his choice, which made him a husband. In his
thirty-second year, however, he was elected a mem-
ber of the Paduan Senate, and the following year was
chosen one of the sixteen who formed the supreme
council. His powers as an orator had ample room

236 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

for exertion in this honourable situation, and though
much occupied with public affairs, he still continued,
with some few intermissions, his literary pursuits.
Aristotle he studied because he best taught him
to dispute acutely, to penetrate the pith of a ques-
tion, and by the most compact order and the most
secure conjunction to find the truth in every species
of learning. " Thence he learned," it is said, " to
contemplate and discourse. In Plato he next learn-
ed the majesty and copiousness of speech ; in Xeno-
phon, every kind of sweetness and a peculiarity not
attained by any other author ; in Athenaeus and in
Plutarch, he found moral precepts and copious ex-
amples." His study of both the Greek and Latin
classics is also said to have been as careful as it
was extensive, the making of extracts being his
constant custom during the perusal of any valu-
able work. He also read the Fathers and " the
most famous chronicles and histories, and even the
worst and most despised romances, from which, he
used to say, he could steal with the least danger
of being discovered. From all these he formed in
himself admixed and confused mass of things, which
working up after his own manner, and receiving
from him a new form and colour, generated his own
particular conceits, * non piu pensati, ' in every kind

BERNARDO TASSO. 237

of learning." Convinced of the excellence of his
native language, and of its fitness for any subject
however dignified or important, he examined the
works of the three great Florentines with profound
attention, and the consequence was, it is said, that
he formed for himself a style which was neither
Dantesque, nor like that of Boccaccio or Petrarch,
but altogether his own, and as worthy of 'being
imitated as that of his masters ; it being his fa-
vourite observation, that he liked better to be a
Paduan than a bad Tuscan; "proving," observes
Forcellini, " that the Lingua Volgare is a judicious
compound of the finest dialects of Italy, as Greek
was of the finest dialects of Greece."

Speroni's favourite species of composition was
the dialogue, and his first production was the " Dia-
logo dell' Amore," which having been remodelled
and much improved, first acquired him the esteem of
Bernardo Tasso and of the Prince of Salerno. Se-
veral other productions of the same kind followed
the above, and obtained general approbation by the
elegance of the style and the ingenuity and truth
of the sentiments.

In the year 1543, he went to Ferrara, when
Pope Paul III. visited that place, and on his re-
turn was sent ambassador to Venice, where he

238 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

was attacked with an illness which nearly brought
him to his grave. He was also sent as ambassador
on several other occasions ; and his reputation as
an orator was so great, that whenever he was
to address an assembly, it was necessary to choose
the largest place that could be found for the meet-
ing ; while it more than once happened at Venice,
that on its being known he was about to display
his oratorical powers, the shops and all public places
were closed, the whole population of the city rush-
ing to hear him speak.

The publication of his tragedy of " Canace e
Macareo," afforded new opportunities for the dis-
play of his talents both as a critic and a rhetorician.
By many, and by Aretino among the rest, this drama
was praised as a master-piece of poetry; but the
opinion in its favour was by no means general, and
it was attacked in some quarters with unrestrained
virulence. The Academy degli Infiammati, of
which Speroni was a most distinguished member,
desired to give him an opportunity of defending
himself and his tragedy against the abuse of his
enemies, and during six successive days he de-
livered a series of extemporary discourses, which
won the applause of a numerous and learned au-
dience.

BERNARDO TASSO. 239

In the year 1559, Speroni lost his wife, and with
her a great hindrance to the uninterrupted attention
which he desired to give to literature. He had
long desired to settle in Rome, and he now thought
that he might gratify his wishes in this respect
without delay. To aid him in his project, the Duke
of Urbino offered to make him tutor to his son,
whom he was about to place in the Court of his
relative, Pope Pius IV. Some persuasion, how-
ever, was requisite, to induce him to undertake the
charge ; and it was not till the Duke had assured
him that neither his time nor liberty should be
abridged by his accepting the office, that he acceded
to his wishes. The Duke's promise was not broken,
and Speroni found himself treated by the Pope
with the utmost, respect, his lodging being, he said,
better than a bishop's, and the treatment he re-
ceived even more honourable than he desired. In
one of his letters written about this time, he says,
that he was studying the Scriptures, and using
himself to a different kind of eloquence to that
which he employed at Padua and Venice, where
there were only men, while at Rome he had to
speak with the Vicar of God, and Cardinals.*
After, however, having remained some years in
the Pontifical Court, and obtained knighthood,
* Opere, vol. v. Lettera 90.

240

LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

he grew dissatisfied with the attentions he re-
ceived, and the sickness of his daughters, whom he
tenderly loved, and who had now been long mar-
ried, together with some disputes with his sons-in-
law, contributed still farther to make him anxious
to return to his native city. Accordingly, in Sep.
tember 1564, he set out from Rome, and on his
arrival at Padua, resolved thenceforth to lead a
life of quiet and study; but he found reason to
alter this determination, and in 1573, he again
took up his abode in Rome. His repose was
next interrupted by a very unexpected accident.
Some anonymous accuser, having represented to the
Inquisitor at Rome, that his Dialogues contained
free and dangerous doctrines, the booksellers were
prohibited from receiving or selling them in their
shops. This event drove Speroni to despair, and
he observed, that not being able to find quiet at
Rome, he was sure he could find it in no place on
earth. He, however, discovered the means of some-
what softening the prejudice excited against him,
by addressing the Pope in a careful apology, and
by writing some new dialogues, calculated to do
away with any hurtful impression that might be
conveyed by those previously written. Having
done this, he once more returned to Padua, where

BERNARDO TASSO. 241

he died in June 1588, in the eighty-eighth year of
his age, an advanced period of life for a man who
had studied hard, and been long afflicted with seve-
ral bodily infirmities, but which astonishes us little
when we find it mentioned that he was not only
temperate himself, but was the intimate friend of
that great example of sobriety and longevity, Luigi
Cornaro.

Lodovico Dolce, another of Bernardo's acquaint-
ances, though deficient in those powers of mind
which win immortality for their possessors, was en-
dowed with a more than ordinary versatility of talent,
and pursued every branch of literature and science
with indefatigable zeal. He has been described as
a poet in all the branches of the art, epic, lyric,
comic, and tragic — as an orator, grammarian, his-
torian, compiler, commentator, translator, and edi-
tor. In the last mentioned character, he for many
years superintended the extensive printing esta-
blishment of the celebrated Giolito, and there was
thus an additional reason, besides his own reputa-
tion as an author and scholar, for his becoming
acquainted with Bernardo and the numerous lite-
rary men of his age.

One of the eight tragedies of this author, the Ma-
rianna, obtained so much applause at its first repre-

VOL. II. M

242 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

sentation, that when, at a subsequent period, it was
about to be played before the Duke of Ferrara, the
concourse of spectators was so great, that the per-
formance was prevented from proceeding. But
few poets possessed of any learning or ability,
have written so much as Dolce, and with such
little success. Of the many epic and romantic
poems he composed, not one is now known to
the world; and it is observed of his ^Eneas and
Achilles, that by his injudicious imitation and par-
tial translation of Homer and Virgil, he produced
neither two translations nor two new poems. Dolce
died at Venice about the year 1569, or somewhat
earlier, if, as is supposed, the illness with which
he was afflicted in 1566 proved fatal.

SLtfe of <2Sioban=storsio

M 2

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRissiNO was born in the city of
Vicenza, on the 7th, or, according to some authors,
on the 8th of July, 1478. His parents were Gas-
paro Trissino and Cecilia di Guilielmo Bevilacqua.
The family of the Trissini was one of the most
ancient and honourable of Vicenza, and Gasparo
possessed a fortune sufficiently large to enable him
to raise a company of three hundred soldiers at his
own expense. At the head of this band, of which
he was termed the Colonel, he served the Republic
of Venice on many occasions of importance ; but in
the year 1487, having been obliged to retreat from
a body of Germans under Roverado di Trento, he

246 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

took his defeat so much to heart, that he was
seized with a fever which terminated his life in the
thirty-ninth year of his age.

It has been stated by some writers, that the
education of Giovan-giorgio was so greatly neglect-
ed in his youth, that he was two-and- twenty before
he acquired any acquaintance with the classics ;
but this opinion, it appears, is totally incorrect,
and his more careful biographers speak with con-
fidence of his early studies.* According to their
testimony, many men of great eminence were em-
ployed in his instruction, and at the proper age
he was sent to Milan, where he pursued with con-
siderable success the study of Greek, his extensive
acquaintance with which language is proved by the
frequent use of Greek words and idioms in his
Italia Liberata. One of Trissino's fellow students
at this period was the celebrated Lilio-Gregorio
Giraldi, and to the learned Demetrio Calcondila
these two young men, both destined to acquire
such distinguished names in the Republic of let-
ters, owed the chief instruction they received in
their favourite language. Trissino retained through
life the most grateful recollection of his master
Demetrio, and raised an elegant monument over

* Pier. Castelli.

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 247

the spot where he was buried, in token of his af-
fection.

Nor did he confine his attention to the lighter
kinds of literature; mathematics and philosophy
employed a great portion of his time, and to these
studies he added that of architecture, which he
pursued with so much ardour, that he wrote a
treatise on the subject, and, not content with the
mere theory of the science, the elegant palace,
which he subsequently built in the village of Ari-
coli, a short distance from Vicenza, was raised
entirely according to his designs. The celebrated
Andrea Palladio himself is generally believed to
have owed his first instructions in the art, which
rendered him so conspicuous, to Trissino. In the
life of the architect, by Paolo Giraldo, it is said
that " Andrea, already become a sculptor, having
contracted a close intimacy with Trissino, his com-
patriot, and one of the first literary men of the
age, was found by the poet to be a youth of great
ability, and much inclined to the mathematical
sciences ; to encourage which disposition he ex-
plained Vitruvius to him, and took him with him
to Rome three times, where he measured and de-
signed many of the most admired structures which
still remain of antient Rome." Palladio was not

•248 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

ungrateful for the assistance thus rendered him in
his youth, and has left honourable mention of Tris-
sino in the preface to his celebrated work on the
orders of architecture.

In 1504, Trissino married Giovanna Tiene, a lady
of noble family, and his townswoman. By her he
had two sons, Francesco, who died young, and Giu-
lio, who entered the church, and was made Arch-
Priest of the cathedral of Vicenza, but was the
cause of much uneasiness to his father. Giovanna
did not live long after giving birth to these sons,
and her death plunged Trissino into the deepest
affliction. Unable to endure his home under the
first impressions of distress, he hastened to Rome,
and, as a farther means of lightening his melan-
choly, began the composition of his tragedy of
" Sofonisba." This occupation of his mind, and
the distinctions he enjoyed in the Court of Leo X.,
filled with men of letters, afforded him speedy
relief, and after a short residence in the Pontifical
capital, he resolved to escape from the unsettled
mode of life to which it exposed him, and return
to Vicenza.

He arrived in his native city towards the end
of 1514, or the beginning of 1515, but to his great
surprise and discomfiture, he found his revenues

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 249

endangered by the refusal of some neighbouring
districts to pay certain imposts on their lands
which had been granted to the family of the Tris-
sini. By the great interest, however, which he
possessed at Rome, and the consequent inter-
ference of the Pontiff, he obtained the restitution
of his rights, and was enabled to compose his
mind to study ; but he had scarcely resumed his
former mode of life, when Leo, desirous of se-
curing the services of a man so well known for his
ability, sent him on a mission to the Emperor
Maximilian, after seeing whom he was to proceed
to the King of Denmark.

The manner in which he performed these em-
bassies increased his reputation with the Pontiff,
and acquired him the distinguished regard of the
Emperor. So gratified was the latter with his
conversation and conduct that he is said to have
bestowed upon him many marks of favour, and
among others, to have given him the privilege of
adding the golden fleece to his arms, unless the
grant of this privilege be ascribed, as is more fre-
quently done, to Charles V. The object of this
mission, by which our author acquired so much
honour, was to consult with the Emperor respect-
ing a general peace, and a confederation of the
M 5

250 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

great European powers against the threatening
force of the Ottoman. As soon as the discussions
respecting this important business were concluded,
Trissino prepared for prosecuting his journey into
Denmark, but Maximilian resisted this intention,
expressing his wish that he would return to the
Pope as his own ambassador, and desire his holi-
ness to assist him in forming a league between
himself and the Kings of England and Spain,
against any attempts of the French on Italy. Tris-
sino assented to the Emperor's wishes, and bore
a letter to the Pope, in which Maximilian excused
himself for sending the ambassador back before he
proceeded to Denmark, on the plea that the busi-
ness was of immediate and urgent necessity.

No sooner had the poet completed this affair
than Leo sent him as his nuncio to the Republic
of Venice, to press upon that State the necessity
of joining in a crusade against the Turks. While
executing his public functions, Trissino also found
himself again involved in a law-suit with his re-
fractory tributaries, who trusted to the protection
of Venice in their refusal to pay the tithes due
to the estate of our author: but, while in the
midst of the process, he received a letter from
Bembo, the Pope's secretary, desiring his imme-

GIO VAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 251

diate return to Rome, and such was his attention
to the calls of his master that he suffered no cares
of his own to interfere with public business. He,
however, returned to Venice after a brief absence,
and continued, it appears, to pursue the same ob-
jects as before his recall to Rome. Nor were these
claims upon his attention sufficient to make him
forget his literary designs. While pressing his
own suit before the Venetian judges, and using
all his skill as an ambassador to obtain the con-
currence of the Doge in the proposed crusade, he
continued to study the rules of the Grecian drama
with profound attention, and at length finished
his tragedy of Sofonisba, which, though not exhi-
biting either that power which is necessary to
dramatic composition, or that grace and sweetness
which form the attraction of poetry of a lower
species, was a production of no little merit, con-
sidering the state of the drama in Italy when it
appeared, and that it was the first regular tragedy
of which that country could boast. Leo was greatly
delighted with its strict adherence to the rules
of art, regarded it as one of the noblest ornaments
of the Italian language, and at one time intended,
it is said, to have it represented with the greatest
splendour that could accompany a scenic display.

252 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

The praise, however, of Leo, though a man of con-
summate taste, was not such as would stamp a
tragedy with the seal of immortality, and the
Sofonisba, like the poems of Bembo, has been
condemned to enjoy the applause only of a few
cold and obscure critics.

On the death of Leo X. in December 1521, Tris-
sino returned to Vicenza, and again freed himself
entirely to the enjoyment of literary leisure ; the
first fruits of which was a canzone in honour of Isa-
bella, Marchioness of Mantua, who in return sent
him a pressing invitation to her court, which was
repeated the following year, with the intimation
that she desired him to undertake the education of
her son. It is not known whether Trissino accepted
this honourable offer, the letter containing which
is dated July 19, 1522, but it seems probable that
he did not, as in the May of the following year he
was elected by the magistrates of Vicenza to con-
gratulate the new Doge of Venice, the celebrated
Andrea Gritti, on his entering upon office. In the
same year also, the Cardinal Giulio de' Medici
was advanced to the Papacy, and Trissino, who
was his personal friend, wrote him a congratu-
latory epistle, and also composed a canzone in
his praise. These marks of attention were re-

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 253

warded by an immediate invitation to the Ponti-
fical Court, on receiving which, the poet without
delay set off for Rome, and was received there
with the affection which he had been accustomed
to enjoy in the Court of Leo X.

The following year he published his tragedy,
and, having given this to the world, he turned his
attention to a subject which has engaged the abili-
ties of many distinguished scholars in almost every
country of Europe. Considering the Italian alpha-
bet not sufficiently copious to express the sounds
of the voice, he had for some time past thought it
necessary to employ some of those belonging to
the Greek, and to convince the learned men of his
time that he was correct in his ideas, he wrote to
the Pontiff on the subject.

" During the many years," says he, "most Blessed
Father, that I have spent in considering the pro-
nunciation of Italian, and in comparing it with the
written language, I have thought the latter to be
weak and faulty, and not adapted to express it.
It therefore appeared to me necessary to add
some letters to the alphabet, by means of which
our pronunciation might in some measure be im-
proved, and this, with the aid of God, I did, as may
be seen in my Poetics and Treatise on Grammar.

254 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

But since these two little works are for certain
reasons not yet published, and since, urged by cer-
tain friends, I have begun to make these new letters
known, and to employ them, I have thought it
right to explain the nature of them at the same
time that I bring them into use ; in order that they
may be known by those who desire to use them,
and exposed to those who wish to judge them.
And it has appeared to me that I ought to publish
them under the name of your Blessedness, because
the first time these letters were used, they were
placed in a canzone dedicated to you ; and because
moreover, it being the universal opinion that under
the Pontificate of your Holiness, not only the Ro-
man Church, but the whole Christian Republic, will
receive light, order, and increase, it appeared to
me most proper that under your auspicious name
the Italian pronunciation should be in some degree
illustrated and enlarged." He then proceeds to
the exposition of his theory, and observes that the
letters for which he first claims admission into the
Italian alphabet are the Greek e and «, there being
of the vowels e and o two pronunciations, for the
expression of which a single character is insufficient.
He adds, that the proper application of these new
signs would wonderfully assist towards the attain-

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 255

ment of the Tuscan and Court (Cortigiana) pro-
nunciation, the most admirable, without doubt,
in Italy. The next character he introduces is the
z, which he observes has two sounds, sometimes
that of a g> at others that of c, and completes
his design by proposing to prevent the confusion
resulting from the vowels i and u being sometimes
used as consonants, by introducing the^' and «?, thus
on the whole increasing the alphabet by the addi-
tion of five new characters ; the three first-men-
tioned being of the highest importance, and the
last two useful, but of less consequence. Before
concluding the epistle, he anticipates the objec-
tions which are likely to be made to his proposed
improvement, and in respect to those who should
oppose his theory on the plea of its being an inno-
vation, he inquires whether they wear their clothes
of the same fashion, or do any thing as their ances-
tors did ? innovation, he observes, being constantly
made, according to present necessity and the wants
of the time ; and if these changes take place in
laws and customs, why is there to be no change
made in writing, by which we teach and preserve
our thoughts ? the more especially, as great alte-
rations have actually been made in it since former
times, as any one may perceive, who will ex-

256 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

amine any ancient document. In regard to those
who should object that his object might be at-
tained more easily by means of accents, he shows
that they are less intelligible, more liable to con-
fusion, and not of a nature to remove the defect
complained of.

He was thus the first to bring the question
before the public; but the same idea, it appears,
had some few years before been started by the
academicians of Siena, and though his theory was
praised for its ingenuity, and he had the merit of
priority in publishing it, he obtained little encou-
ragement, and had, in the words of Castelli, more
flatterers than followers. The letter had also been
but a short time in print, when a host of oppo-
nents arose, who treated the writer with little cour-
tesy. Among these, one of the most conspicuous
was Lodovico Martelli, who asserted that there was
no need of the additional characters, and that it
would be injuring the simplicity of the Tuscan lan-
guage to employ them. Another of his critics was
Firenzuola, a monk of Vallombrosa, who accused
him of being a plagiarist, and asserted that he had
stolen the idea from some young Florentines ;
while a third found fault with him for not having
done sufficient. In answer to these attacks, Tris-

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 257

sino published his " Dubbi Grammatical!," and a
short time after, a dialogue entitled " II Castel-
lano." Nor did he want supporters either in his
own or a subsequent age ; the learned Maffei speaks
of his theory with the highest approbation, and Fon-
tanini says, that he deserves to be called the se-
cond Cadmus. The most striking testimony, how-
ever, in his favour is that, though the other letters
which he proposed to introduce never obtained a
place in the Italian alphabet, the,;, the v, and the
z, almost unknown till his time in that language,
have been ever since recognized as a part of its
elements.

In the preface to the Dubbi Grammaticali he
says, " I have always esteemed the endeavour to
render assistance to others, the finest and the most
honourable of human designs, and have always, to
the best of my weak ability, exercised myself in it.
Nor did I for any other reason add the new cha-
racters to the alphabet, than to be useful to those
who are studying our language ; and although
some, stimulated either by the desire of glory or
by envy, have written against me, I am not willing
to cease from pursuing, to the best of my power, so
excellent and noble a subject ; begging my adver-
saries, at the same time, to accept my thanks for

258 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

having written against me, as they have thereby
tended to make the nature and utility of these
letters better understood, and the real state of the
question better known, and had they convicted me
of error, I should most willingly have submitted
to their correction. But since I have been con-
demned by them for what I ought not, and been
absolved where I merited blame, I have therefore
taken upon myself to correct and remove the errors
into which I have partially fallen."

From these literary pursuits his attention was
again called in 1525, by the posture of public af-
fairs. Francis I. having been taken prisoner at
Pavia, the Pope soon after found it necessary to
enter into negotiations, which the talents and long
experience of Trissino rendered him peculiarly
qualified to conduct. As ambassador to the Re-
public of Venice and the Emperor Charles V., he
again exercised the skill in managing affairs of
importance which had secured him such honour-
able notice in the early part of his career, and Cle-
ment continued to regard him with the esteem due
to so old and faithful a servant of the Princes of
the Church.

The next five years was a troubled period for
all who were in any way engaged in public affairs,

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 259

and there can be little doubt that Trissino ex-
perienced a full share of the alarm so general in
1527, when the head of the Catholic Church was
torn from his palace, and made a prisoner by the
arm of a temporal sovereign. Certain it is, that
when the storm passed away, he was among the
first who participated in the returning prosperity
of the Pontiff; and on the arrival of Charles at Bo-
logna, in order to be solemnly crowned King of
Lombardy and Emperor of the Romans, our poet
was in attendance on Clement, and at the cere-
mony of the coronation bore his train, an honour,
it is said, never conceded but to persons of the
highest distinction.

The favour which he thus for so many years ex-
perienced at the hands of Leo X. and Clement VII.
affords a very striking proof of his talents both as a
scholar and a man of business ; for with the former
of these Pontiffs the chief recommendation to notice
was learning and literary ability, and the latter
was placed during his Pontificate in so many ha-
zardous situations, that it must have been an ex-
traordinary degree of confidence in Trissino's good
sense which induced him to trust so many negotia-
tions to his superintendence. It was no doubt ow-
ing to the close connection which existed on these

260 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

accounts between the poet and the Papal Court,
that an opinion gained ground in a subsequent age
that he was a churchman, and enjoyed numerous
ecclesiastical preferments. Voltaire, whom M.
Ginguene convicts of great carelessness in one sen-
tence, but praises for historical accuracy in another,
terms Trissino an archbishop, and he has been fol-
lowed, it seems, by several other writers, who have
incautiously adopted his statements. But whatever
were the rewards bestowed on our author for his
zealous attachment to Leo and Clement, they were
certainly not bishoprics ; and it is reported that the
former even offered in vain to make him a Cardi-
nal, Trissino preferring to take a second wife, to
being raised to the high rank thus within his at-
tainment.

The fatigue he suffered at Bologna had a very
injurious effect on his health, and he began to find
it necessary to be more careful in the expenditure
of strength. He was arrived at the age of fifty-
two ; had passed an active, and in some respects
perhaps, a laborious life, and though neither his
years were sufficiently numerous, nor the cares he
had experienced of a nature to injure the health
considerably, yet to a man desirous of preserving
himself from the worst infirmities of age, his present

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 261

condition afforded a warning that it was time to
retire from the bustle of public life.

Trissino, who appears to have possessed more
prudence than the generality of his brother bards,
lost not a day in putting the resolution to which he
had come in execution, and, taking his leave of the
Pope, he set out from Bologna for his seat at Vi-
cenza. His first care on reaching home was to
terminate the vexatious law-suits which had so
long troubled his mind, and after some few months
farther litigation, he succeeded in finally settling
the dispute with his refractory neighbours. But
cares of a different and still more harassing nature
speedily followed. His second wife was Bianca,
a daughter of Niccolo Trissino, and the widow of
Alvise Trissino. By the poet she had a son and a
daughter, and by her former husband a son who
was still living, and her maternal anxiety for whose
welfare had suffered no diminution from her second
marriage. Giulio, Trissino's eldest son, who was
now Arch-Priest of the cathedral church of Vicenza,
was, notwithstanding his ecclesiastical profession,
infected with the most violent jealousy of his bro-
ther-in-law, and, considering the affectionate con-
duct of Bianca towards her son as an injury to
himself, he lost no opportunity of thwarting her

262 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

designs. The lady, probably, was little inclined to
suffer the asperity of Giulio's behaviour unresented,
and thus the unfortunate Trissino was placed be-
tween two fires, which only seemed to burn the
quicker the more he endeavoured to extinguish
them, and from which with all his experience and
political skill he found himself unable to escape.

Things remained in this state for some years ;
the poet suffering the greatest domestic uneasiness,
while his townsmen and others continued to mani-
fest towards him all the respect due to his talents
and experience, sending him as their representative
before the Venetian Senate, and trusting to him
the most important of their negotiations. The
same respect attended him in his literary charac-
ter. The celebrated Rucellai had been for many
years one of his most intimate friends, and it was
the urgent wish of that learned man, on his death-
bed, that Trissino should undertake the preparation
of his unpublished poems for the press : this re-
quest would have been attended to by our author
with a zeal proportioned to the strength of his long
standing friendship, but Rucellai died before he
could make his wish known, and could only direct
that his poem on Bees should be dedicated to
Trissino.

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 263

In the year 1540 he lost his wife Bianca, and it
might have been supposed that the strife which
had for so long a time disturbed his quiet would
then cease; but instead of this being the case,
the jealousy and rancour of his children were
increased, and he found that his admonition and
authority were both alike despised. Giulio set no
bounds to his passion, and the unfortunate father
saw himself on the point of being deprived of a
large part of his fortune in a suit instituted against
him by his son. Unable to endure any longer the
strife and ingratitude of his family, he determined
to leave Vicenza, and seek a home at a sufficient
distance from the scene of his present troubles to
save him from any farther annoyance. In con-
formity with this design he retired to Murano, a
short distance from Venice : soon after arriving at
which place, he found himself sufficiently com-
posed to resume his literary occupations, and sit
down to the completion of his celebrated, though
not popular epic, the " Italia Liberata da i Goti."
He had begun this work some time before the
present period, and it was not finished till he had
expended on its composition twenty years, a pe-
riod which, in these fruitful days, when the mind
is expected to be at least as productive as it is

264 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

active, seems greatly too long for the production
of a single work, but which shrinks into insignifi-
cance when it is remembered that the same time
was exhausted by Sannazzaro on the De Partu
Virginis.

The Italia Liberata contributes very strongly to
mark the character of the age when it appeared.
We discover throughout that period a tendency to
root out the precious seeds with which Nature
herself seems to have sown the soil of Italy, a soil
which, had it not been picked and cleared by the
nice hand of critics at one time, and trampled under
foot by the war-steeds of tyrants at another, would
have by this time been overrun, even to an excess
of beauty, by flowers of all forms and hues, and
whose rich odours would have now filled the intel-
lectual atmosphere of Europe, as they did that of
England in the spring and summer days of our poetry
— in those of Chaucer and Shakspeare. Ariosto
was, as we have seen, persuaded to write in Latin ;
Bernardo Tasso unwillingly composed a romance
instead of a classical epic ; Sannazzaro thought his
fame must perish if it depended on poetry in his
native language ; and Pietro Bembo had the same
idea : — but it was reserved for Trissino to show the

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 265

learned spirit of the age in the most decided manner.
The other writers who lived with, or shortly pre-
ceded him, had hesitated between the ancient and
the modern language, and, when they adopted the
former, it was from the high opinion they had
formed of its powers, and from a notion that they
could express their thoughts more forcibly and
clearly by its idioms than by those of their native
tongue. Adopting the language, they almost ne-
cessarily adopted the forms of classical composi-
tion ; and the works, they thus produced, seemed
rather like newly-transplanted trees, than as if they
had been long naturalized to the soil. But Tris-
sino, instead of taking the language, and therefore
the forms and measures of ancient poetry, was suf-
ficiently imbued with classical learning to reject
the language in which it was conveyed, and, unlike
his timid predecessors, determined to be a classic
in his own tongue. This was the perfect triumph
of art and learning over nature, and, like all such
triumphs, won a partial and momentary applause,
and was then forgotten. The Italia Liberata was
a prodigious effort of ingenuity, for ingenuity
may, perhaps, be considered the imitative faculty
employed in copying mere human models, while
VOL. li. N

266 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

genius is the same faculty working after the beau-
ideals of the mind, or the most perfect forms that
exist in nature.

The poet, however, having completed and cau-
tiously corrected the first nine books of his epic,
sent them to press, and they appeared at Rome in
the year 1547. Trissino lost no time in forward-
ing a copy of the work, as far as it was printed, to
the Emperor Charles V., who, on receiving it, ex-
pressed .the highest satisfaction at the present,
and signified his approbation of the poem itself
by desiring the author to let him have the remain-
der as speedily as possible. Trissino was in no
slight degree gratified by the Emperor's compli-
ments, and immediately prepared to complete the
remaining books, his success with^ those already
printed having the effect of stimulating him to still
greater care in polishing and correcting those not
yet published. By the following year the remain-
ing books were printed, and he instantly forwarded
them, with all the anxiety of a young author eager
to reap the first harvest of fame, to the Emperor.
Praise as flattering as that bestowed on the
former occasion was the reward of the poet's toils,
or, as it might, perhaps, be said with more truth,
of his fidelity and homage to the imperial critic.

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 267

But, notwithstanding the time and pains which
had been employed upon the Italia Liberata da
i Goti — notwithstanding the reputation already
enjoyed by its author; and though, above all, he
had been the friend of successive Pontiffs, and was
a favourite with the Emperor, the poem did not
escape the attacks of many severe critics, some of
whom, that nothing might escape them, began
with the title, which, on the one hand, was said
to be too long, and on the other, not sufficiently
clear. It was next objected that the Dialogues
were wearisome and badly managed, it being an
offence against probability to represent persons
making long and formal speeches in the midst of
battles. Another objection was in respect to the
time which the action occupied; it would have
been better, it was remarked, if the story had
commenced at a later period of the war, that is,
when Belisarius arrived at Rome, or, at least, in
Italy ; and also if it had been kept free from the
love adventures of Justinian, the recital of which
was unworthy of the main subject. The last ob-
jection has given rise to some controversy among
Italian critics. It having been observed by Fon-
tanini* that Trissino inserted some things in his

» Bibliotheca della Eloquent. Ital.
N2

268 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

poem which merited great censure, but after-
wards, like a good Christian, being convinced of
his error, amended or changed the verses, his
annotator remarks, that he spent a long time in
endeavouring to discover where the changes above-
mentioned were made ; and for that purpose ex-
amined a great variety of copies, but all in vain.
" Nor should I ever," he continues, " have been
able to satisfy myself had not Signer Giuseppe
Farsetti lent me a copy which contained the cor-
rected passages, and the whole of which, to my no
little surprise, were no more than three, the alter-
ations in which consisted of only a few words." It
would have been infinitely better, concludes Zeno,
if, as a good Christian and Catholic, Trissino had
not scandalized the Church by calumniating the
holy Pontiff Silverius, as he does in his sixteenth
book.*

Crescimbeni is another of the writers who most
severely criticises our poet, observing that he is
much too exact or minute in his minor descriptions,
especially in that of Justinian's dress, all the
parts of which he mentions, and in the exact order
in which they were put on. Other writers have
made the same objection, adding, with great just-

* Apos. Zeno. Note al Fontanini.

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 269

ness, that the energy required in an epic poem
is by no means to be acquired by an exact de-
scription of objects not great or excellent in them-
selves. Giraldi Cintio, from whom Castelli quotes
this observation, remarks also that the age in
which Homer wrote, the custom of the times, and
the singular power evinced by that divine poet,
made such things tolerable in him; but that Tris-
sino, by imitating him in these respects, did no
otherwise than " select the refuse from the gold
of Homer, imitate his vices, and gather toge-
ther all that which good judges would wish to be
rid of — by which he showed little wisdom." To
these observations may also be added that of Ber-
nardo Tasso, who remarks in one of his letters, that
" if Trissino had been as judicious in selecting a
subject worthy of twenty years' labour, as he was
extensively learned, he would have seen that to
write as he did, was to write for the dead."

The objections thus made against the Italia
Liberata, appear to be so well founded, that they
have been permitted to determine its fate with
little contradiction. The learned Maffei, in his pre-
face to the edition of our author's works, judi-
ciously avoids entering into the subject, and only
observes that many objections are made to the

270 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

poem, which he shall leave for those to discuss who
treat of the various sorts of poetry. " I will only
say," he continues, " that for a composition to merit
praise, it is not necessary that it should be free
from every defect ; and I will also say, that it would
be useless to reason on many of the objections
with those who have no taste for the antique, or
for Greek. Torquato Tasso, indeed, who speaks of
\t in many parts of his prose works, did not approve
of the author's having followed Homer in certain
obsolete and obscure customs ; or of his having
taken too much matter, that is the whole Gothic
war, in which he did not follow Homer. But
when he speaks of unity of action in the third
book of his Treatise on Heroic Poetry, he did not
subscribe to the vulgar opinion, but observed the
superiority of Trissino in this respect to Ariosto."
The passage alluded to by Maffei is as follows :
" Ariosto who, forsaking the example of the ancient
writers and the rules of Aristotle, has compre-
hended many and various actions in his poem, is
read and re-read by people of every age, and of
either sex ; he is known in all languages, pleases
all, is praised by all, lives and continually grows
young again in fame, and takes his glorious flight
through all the languages of the world ; but Trissino,

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 271

on the contrary, who resolved upon religiously imi-
tating and observing the poems of Homer and
the precepts of Aristotle, mentioned by few, read
scarcely by any, mute in the theatre of the world,
and dead to the light, is hardly to be found buried
in the library of a man of letters."*

After all that has been said by these several
critics, the chief fault of which Trissino stands ac-
cused, is a fault of judgment rather than a failure
of poetic ability, and there can be little doubt that
if either Ariosto or Tasso had allowed himself to
be led away by the idle ambition of writing a clas-
sical epic in blank verse, neither of them would have
escaped the fatal influence which such a radical error
in the design must have had upon their genius. No
comparison can of course be made between Trissino
and these great men, but the orator of Vicenzo
had sufficient poetry both in his heart and mind
to save him, had he not so erred in judgment,
from the fate which has attended his Italia Li-
berata, and he affords us one of the many instances
which exist in literary history, of men of the best
judgment in other things, making woful mistakes
in their choice of subjects, or in their manner of
treating them. Almost the whole of Trissino's
works, indeed, were experiments on public taste ;
* Del Poema Eroico, lib. iii.

272 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

the period when they appeared tempted, perhaps,
and authorized such experiments ; but to secure
their success a most penetrating as well as solid
judgment was required, and great power of exe-
cution to prevent novelty of form from appearing
crude and unnatural.

While Trissino was thus occupied with his poem
and the critics who attacked it, his son Giulio was
pressing his claims upon the estate with unceasing
resolution. Irritated, as was natural, at this treat-
ment, he made a will, by which he disinherited
Giulio, and made Giro the sole heir to his fortune ;
but he had scarcely finished the arrangements
respecting this testament, when he heard to his
surprise and indignation that a sentence had been
passed against him in the court where the cause
was tried, and thus found himself deprived of a
great part of his possessions. Full of resentment,
and disgusted with his country, where he felt that
he had only met with strife and injury, he imme-
diately set out for Trent, where the Emperor was
then staying, and having explained to him the
circumstances in which he was placed, proceeded
to Mantua, and thence, notwithstanding his age
and infirmities, by rapid journeys to Rome, where
he met with the same honour and regard he

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 273

had experienced in former years, and after a brief
enjoyment of the consolation thus afforded him,
he died lamented in the year 1550.

Trissino merits a distinguished station among
the learned men of his age. His acquaintance
with the classics was extensive, and in his habits
of study he was patient and laborious. Before
writing the Italia Liberata, he read, it is said, every
work that could be procured which embraced any
notice of the classical ages, or served to illustrate
the history or manners of the times ; and, in speak-
ing of his anxiety to make his treatise on poetry
as useful and correct as possible, he says, " I have
spared no fatigue ; besides the Volgare Eloquenza
of Dante, and the Regole di Antonio di Tempo, I
have read almost all the ancient Trovatori, Sicilian,
Italian, Provencal, and Spanish, which could be
obtained; and I shall think little of this fatigue
if I may thereby have satisfied those many inge-
nious foreigners who are desirous of information
on the subject."* Most of his works bear evident
signs of the care and study with which he wrote,
and the consideration he obtained in the learned
Court of Leo X. is a sufficient proof that he could
employ it as an accomplishment, and enrich his

* De la Poetica. Opere, ii. p. 92.
N 5

274 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

conversation as well as books by the erudition he
possessed.

Of the Italia Liberata and the Sofonisba, it only re-
mains to be said that they were the first Italian works
written in blank verse.* His other poetical pro-
ductions consist of sonnets and canzoni, of which the
former were described by a contemporary writer as
clear, sententious, and pathetic, while the latter ob-
tained attention as presenting the first imitation of
the Pindaric Ode seen in Italian : " As each stanza,"
says he in his Poetics, " ought to have the same
form, and the same quality, and quantity of verses
as the first, I have therefore, in imitation of Pin-
dar, who makes the strophe and antistrophe alike,
and then introduces the epode of a different struc-
ture, composed canzoni, which have the first two
stanzas similar in structure, in the manner of the
strophe and antistrophe, and the third different
to them, like the epode, with which third stanza
agrees the sixth, as the fourth and fifth with the
first and with the second ; and in this order, three
stanzas agreeing with three stanzas, to the end of
-the canzone." f Besides these poems, he also
wrote a comedy, entitled " I Similimi," an imitation
of the Menemmi of Plautus. It was dedicated to
* Zeno al Fon. t Opere, vol. ii. p. 70.

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 275

the Cardinal Farnese, in his epistle to whom he
gives his reasons for undertaking the work. " Hav-
ing," he says, " composed in the Italian language,
a tragedy and an heroic poem, which, the former
imitating by representation, the latter by enunci-
ation, treat of the actions and the manners of great
and illustrious men, and convey instruction by ex-
citing pity and terror, I formed the idea of ad-
venturing upon the third species of poetry, that
is comedy, which treats of the actions and manners
of the middle and lower classes, and performs the
work of instruction by means of ridicule and laugh-
ter. And as in my tragedy and epic I sought to
observe the rules laid down by Aristotle, and ex-
emplified in Homer, Sophocles, and the other best
poets, so in comedy I have desired to preserve the
manner of Aristophanes, that is, of the old comedy.
Having, therefore, taken a happy invention of
Plautus, I have changed the names and added
characters, and in some parts altered the order,
and introduced the chorus, and having thus adapt-
ed it to my wishes, venture to send it forth in this
new dress."

The prose works of our author, besides those
already mentioned, are the Poetics, above al-
luded to, and which contain much useful ob-

276 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

servation, as well as technical criticism. It was
regarded both by contemporary and succeeding
scholars as a work of profound erudition and cri-
tical skill. His other productions in prose consist
of his Oration addressed to Andrea Gritti, two
Dialogues, under the titles II Castelano and I
Ritratti, and an Epistle on the life which ought to
be led by a widow. The former of the dialogues
was on the subject of his new letters ; the latter,
I Ritratti, or The Portraits, is one of the most
elegant specimens of this species of writing in
existence, and I cannot, perhaps, give a better idea
of Trissino's style than by presenting the reader
with a specimen from this essay.

The author introduces the dialogue by informing
the reader that when Lucio Pompilio was at Fer-
rara, and in the house of Margarita Cantelma
Duchess of Sora, he was requested by a brilliant
assembly of young and noble persons to repeat a
conversation he once had at Milan with Cardinal
Bembo and Vicenzio Macro. Pompilio having
been, it is said, to visit Demetrio Calcondile, and
found the Cardinal at the house of the venerable
old man, was returning in company with the learned
churchman, when they unexpectedly met Macro.
Perceiving that something particular occupied his

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 277

mind, they inquired why he was so abstracted,
and found to their surprise that though a philo-
sopher, he .had been thrown into this state of won-
der by some beautiful woman whom he had just
seen at church. Macro was immediately question-
ed as to her name, and similar particulars, but he
knew nothing of her, except that she was from
Ferrara, which he had learnt from hearing some
one in the crowd say, " such are the beauties of Fer-
rara." The curiosity of the Cardinal and Pompilio
being excited, it was resolved that Macro should
picture the lady's person and appearance in the
best manner that could be done by words. This
he consented to attempt, but before beginning his
portrait, he inquired of the Cardinal whether he
knew the most celebrated beauties of Vicenza,
Florence, and other cities, to which Bembo having
answered in the affirmative, mentioning Trissino's
wife as one of the chief beauties of Vicenza, Macro
said he should do as Zeuxis did, and take what
was fairest in each to form his picture.

" « I will first take/ said Macro, ' the head of
Ericina, on which the locks are neither too full
nor too thin; the measured beauty of her fore-
head and the arching of her lovely eyebrows, and
likewise the eyes, humid with that gladness and

278 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

delight which sparkle in them, blended with a cer-
tain degree of majesty ; and these we will leave as
Nature formed them ; next we may observe the
exquisite junction of the soft arms to the delicate
hands, and that of the hands to those long fingers
which taper so insensibly to the end, and are
encircled with splendid rings. The cheeks, then,
and those parts which are confined by the hair,
and that which circumscribes the eyes, we will
take from Vicenza and from La Trissina ; and also
the most benignant and sweet smile which makes
us forget our wonder, and the holy modesty, and
the gravity of motion, and the gracefulness of atti-
tude, these we will take from her. Next, the nose
of admirable measure and becoming quality, and the
well-formed chin, and the tenderness of those parts
which proceed from it, as the cheeks and those under
it which are on the confines of the neck, these Spi-
nola shall give. But the sweet and most lovely
mouth, and the delicate lips, and the equal and well-
proportioned neck, and the full size of the person,
which neither extends itself into a disagreeable
height nor descends into littleness, these are afford-
ed by the Countess. The bosom moderately full,
and the squareness of the shoulders, and their
largeness a little increasing towards the neck, with

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 279

which they are most exquisitely united, these may
be taken from Clemenza de' Pacci ; and also the
age, which, according to my judgment, should not
much exceed twenty-three, would be, it seems,
that of these ladies.' — ' Truly,' said Bembo, ' this
your portrait is a very beautiful and excellent one.'
— * It will appear still more so when it is finished,'
replied Macro. — 'Have you not completed it then?'
said Bembo, again : * what can be wanting when
every thing has been so punctually mentioned ?' —
' Much is wanting,' said Macro, « if colours are as
necessary to beauty as I believe them to be.' "

Having rejected both particular ladies and the
most splendid painters as guides in this respect,
Macro takes Petrarch as the best, from whom, he
says, he will first paint the hair, making it, as the
poet did, * of fine gold, and than gold brighter ;'
then the face, fair as the pure snow, or rather like
white roses mixed with red in a golden vase ; next
the lips, like vermilion roses; the eyebrows like
ebony; and the soft bright eyes like two most
lucid stars, and with an expression which * can
make the night clear and the day obscure, and
honey bitter and wormwood sweet.'

* Such,' continues the speaker, ' is this mar-
vellous lady, as our description and the noble poet

280 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

have depicted her. But that, above all, which
distinguishes her figure, is the grace which accom-
panies it ; all the graces and the loves flock dancing
round her, adorning even her slightest move-
ment in such a manner as cannot be described
either by speech or any other human means, and
can scarcely be conceived by the mind.' — ' A most
divine thing, truly,' said Bembo, ' is this which you
describe, and which might be termed the rarest
gift Heaven has ever bestowed on the race of mor-
tals ; but I hope you will not refuse to tell us what
her dress is, and in what manner you beheld her.'
— ' She wore her hair loose,' said Macro, ' and so
that her ringlets fell carelessly on her white and
delicate shoulders ; but over her head was thrown
a silken tawny-coloured net, which seemed of won-
derfully fine workmanship, and the knots of which
were of the finest gold, and through the meshes of
this net her locks might be seen scintillating like
the rays of the sun. On the summit of her fore-
head, where the hair divides, she wore a most
beautiful and brilliant ruby, from which hung a
very large and lucid pearl ; on her neck also she
wore a string of very large, equal, and most splen-
did pearls, which, hanging on each side of her
bosom, descended almost to the waist. Her robe

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 281

was of rich black velvet, loaded with gold orna-
ments, so well placed and so exquisitely wrought,
that the artificers seemed, in order to adorn her
person, to have contended with Nature herself. This
lady I saw enter the cathedral, having just, as it
seemed, left her carriage, to pray ; she had a book
in her hand, open at the part from which she had
been reading, and she was speaking with one of
her attendants, but not so that I could hear what
she said; she, however, smiled as she spoke, and
showed between her rosy lips a row of the whitest
and most equal teeth, which might be compared
to the driven snow, as Messer Cino da Pistoia
said, * fra le rose vermiglie d'ogni tempo.'

i Proceed no farther, Messer Vicenzio,' said
Bembo, ' I know whom you are describing, both from
what you now say, and from having before mentioned
her country, it is the Signora Marchesana of Man-
tua.' Having expressed his admiration of this
paragon of personal beauty, Bembo continues to
observe that that of her mind and heart is equally
perfect. * But I could name ladies,' says he, * who,
being very beautiful in their persons, obscure and
debase their beauty by the lowness and vulgarity
of their minds, so as to produce in us a feeling
of hate, and such women appear to me like the

LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

ancient temples of Egypt, the building of which was
fair and beautiful, and composed of most precious
stone, and ornamented in a sumptuous manner
with gold, but the gods who inhabited them were
only apes, or oxen, or cats, or other base animals.'

This observation of Bembo induced Macro to
request that he would draw him a picture of an in-
tellectual and moral beauty, as he had done of one
in form and external appearance. The Cardinal
consented, saying, that he must draw his help
neither from poets nor painters, but from philoso-
phers. ' First, then,' continued he, ' I will make
her voice, as Petrarch says, clear, sweet, angelic,
and divine, and her language far sweeter than that
which proceeded from the mouth of the old Pastor
in Homer — and, that every thing may be particu-
larly noted, the tone of the voice is not so low as to
be to"6 feminine or shrill, but it is sweet and tender,
like that of a lad not yet arrived at youth ; and
that tone most sweetly insinuating itself into the
ear, begets a certain delightful echo in it, which,
even when the voice ceases, rests softly there, and
preserves some relics of the discourse, and a cer-
tain sweetness full of persuasion in the mind. But,
when it is heard in song, and especially when
accompanied by the lute, it would bewilder with

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 283

astonishment Orpheus and Amphion themselves,
who could make inanimate things obey their song ;
and I am confident that neither of them knew so
well how to preserve the harmony, so that the
rythm be never lost, but kept strictly marked by
the elevation and depression of the song, always
in accordance with the lute — the tongue, and the
hands, and the inflections of the melody being all
in union with each other. Wherefore, I am sure,
that if you heard her sing, you would be like
those who heard the Syrens, and would lose all
thoughts of your country and home, and that
it would make its way into your ears, though
they were closed with wax. In one word, this
song is such as is to be expected to pass through
such lips and teeth as have been described.
With regard to her speech, it is neither purely
of her own country, nor purely Tuscan, but com-
posed of that which is most beautiful both in
the one and the other, and thus a mixed and most
sweet language; it has in itself some graces and
expressions beyond description pleasing and apt,
and which, used by her, never startle, but always
delight; and by this you may judge how admirably
her erudition is combined with genius. This is the
description of her voice and singing, but it is much

284 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS,

inferior to the reality. I will next form the rest,
since I do not desire to follow your example, and
compose one beauty from many, which, perhaps, is
less difficult and more convenient for painters, sculp-
tors, and others ; but I wish for every virtue of the
mind to draw a portrait as like the original as
possible.' — ' Truly,' said Macro, ' you return us a
fair measure, and I pray you do so, since nothing
can be more grateful or delightful.' — * Since, then,'
resumed Bembo, * erudition is necessarily the ma-
jestic guide to all noble operations of the mind,
I will make a picture which shall present great
variety and many figures, such as your imagination,
probably, will not be able to surpass. We will
describe her, then, as possessing all the gifts of
Castalia and Parnassus ; not one power only as that
of Calliope, Clio, Polymnia, or the others, but those
of all the Muses together, and even of Mercury and
Apollo ; and by all those things which the poets
ornament in verse, historians write in prose, and
philosophers harmonize in the one and in the other
— by all these is our picture adorned, and not
merely superficially coloured, but deeply and pro-
foundly tinted. And, above all, she will be found
to delight in poetry, and to dwell much upon it,
which is as it should be, she being of the same

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 285

country as Virgil. She is such, in a word, that if
all the celebrated poetesses of Greece were com-
bined in one, that one would not be comparable
to her.'

The speaker next describes the several moral
virtues which are to adorn the lady whose portrait
he, is painting ; in respect to her religion, he says,
' She does not pass all the day with monks and
friars, but, leaving them to pray in their cells, she
hears the mass and other offices with most profound
devotion, and observes the fasts and almsgivings,
and other things ordained by the Church ; and also
preserves a firm and inviolable faith, accompanied
with a most holy attention to her promises and
a uniform truth of language, a false word never
escaping her lips ; besides which, she cherishes a
deep piety and tenderness towards her country,
and towards her father and mother while living, and
when they are no more, towards her brothers.' We
may also add, that she desires that every one
may receive rewards and honours according to his
dignity and merit, and that the holiness of the
laws may be preserved, in order that the virtuous
may be rewarded and the wicked punished. And
with regard to her liberality, of which she sets so
singular an example, who knows so well how to

286 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

spend her wealth on proper objects and where it is
most useful to spend it ? This her liberality may
be clearly perceived from her splendid vestments,
the magnificent furniture of her house, and its no-
ble, delightful, and, as it were, divine apartments,
with the charming chambers full of the rarest
books, the choicest paintings, marvellous specimens
of ancient and modern sculpture, and camei, intagli,
medals and gems. But her liberality is still better
shown in the good she does to others, and not in
merely doing it, but in doing it wisely. It is very
little that she gives to buffoons and mountebanks,
and such like rabble; her charity is bestowed on
good and virtuous persons, to whom she gives that
in which they stand most in need, whether it be
money, food, or clothing. And when want presses
she succours them at the moment, and gives so
largely that she dissipates all their care with regard
to the support of life ; on which account her name
has been consecrated by many both in verse and
prose to immortality, and will be in the mouths
of people thousands and thousands of years hence.'
Some other particulars are next gone over,
but sufficient of the dialogue has been given to
afford an idea of the manner in which Trissino
conducted this species of writing, which, at the

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 287

period in which he lived, was so fashionable in
Italy.

The epistle to Margarita Pia Sanseverina, on
the life which should be led by a widow, abounds
in maxims of plain good sense, and is at the same
time written with great eloquence. In speaking
of the caution with which the widow ought to con-
duct her conversation with the world, he thus
speaks of her forming intimacies with persons of
power and rank : " There are two dominant desires
in the minds of most human beings — the one is
the desire of greatness, the other of wealth ; from
which if we could free ourselves and remain con-
tent with being as we are without seeking any
thing else, we should be free from many fatigues,
evils, and anxieties which now distress us. We
should also leave many things undone which these
impel us to do, and not seek with so much anxiety
the friendship of the great to make us great, but
should do as Diogenes did, who, being at Athens,
received an invitation to visit Alexander the Great
in Macedonia, upon which he answered, that it was
no farther from Macedonia to Athens than it was
from Athens to Macedonia; which magnanimous
reply had such weight with that most excellent
King that he went to Athens to see him. Oh ! if

288 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

we could be wise enough to act in the same way,
how much quieter and happier our lives would be.
But, void of wisdom, weak and miserable mortals,
seeing that wealth and power may procure us the
means of satisfying our appetites, we are so eager
to win them, that to gain these we sacrifice every
other good, and not unfrequently destroy both
body and soul ; never reflecting how unwise it is
to seek to possess power over others while we
forget how to govern our own appetites. I have
made this little digression that you may under-
stand that as I judge it wrong and imprudent in
any one to seek the favour of the great to exalt
themselves, I consider it in the highest degree im-
proper that a woman should do so ; for even if she
do it without danger to her honour, she certainly
cannot do it without injury to her reputation.
And, indeed, it appears to me that every female
ought to content herself with the station in which
she is placed, and seek no greater good than that
of rendering her life perfectly virtuous." *

Among the contemporaries of Trissino, Giovanni
Rucellai was one of his most intimate friends and
associates, and like him was one of the first re-
formers, or rather authors, of Italian tragedy. He

* Opere, vol. ii. p. 284.

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 289

was the descendant of an ancient and noble Floren-
tine family, and was born in the month of October
1475. It is not known to whom his education was
first intrusted, but he studied during his youth
under Francesco Gattoni da Diacceto, and acquired
an extensive acquaintance with the Latin and
Greek classics. Being related on the mother's
side to the Medici, his family connexions united
with his abilities to introduce him at an early
period to public employments, and in 1505 he was
sent ambassador to Venice. He is supposed to
have taken an active part in the restoration of the
Medici to their power in the state, and to have
been among the noblemen by whose exertions that
event was brought about in the year 1512. As a
reward, however, for his attachment, Lorenzo pro-
moted him to several lucrative employments, and,
on his being made Captain-General of the Ponti-
fical army, took him to Rome. Leo X. treated him
with the greatest favour, and, on his visit to Flo-
rence, spent some time with him in his garden,
much celebrated for its beauty and extent, to hear
him recite his tragedy of " Rosmunda." Nor was
the Pontiff's esteem for him evidenced only by
such attentions as these ; he put him on the list of
those whom he intended to promote to the rank of
VOL. n. o

290 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

Cardinal, and would, it is believed, have carried
this intention into execution but for the envy of
other members of his family. As some compensa-
tion for the disappointment which Rucellai felt at
rinding his hopes of advancement so long deferred,
Leo sent him ambassador to France, but died soon
after the poet had reached his place of destina-
tion. On his way home he heard of the election
of Adrian V., and having no reason to expect any
favour at his hands, he proceeded to Florence. He
was received in his native city with many demon-
strations of respect, and in April 1523 was sent to
Rome with a congratulatory address to the new
Pope. The short Pontificate of Adrian being ter-
minated, Clement VII. ascended the throne, and
Rucellai was again flattered with the hopes of ad-
vancement to the highest dignities of the Church.
Nor would he have been disappointed, had he not
allowed himself to consider the rank of Cardinal
as alone sufficient to reward his services, or testify
the regard in which he expected to be held by his
relatives. Having previously received some other
valuable appointments, he was made Governor of the
castle of St. Angelo, in which situation he died,
and shortly before Rome was besieged by the Im-
perialists; Heaven, it has been observed, thereby

GIOVAN-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 291

saving him from the misery which he must have
suffered from such a spectacle, and from being
obliged either to act as gaoler to his revered rela-
tive, or to be made a prisoner in the castle himself.*
Among other poets of a secondary class who
flourished at or near this period, were Broccardo
and Francesco Maria Molza, both of them men of
genius, but prevented from producing any thing
sufficient to establish their reputation, the one by
an early death, the other by the unsettled and
lavish manner in which he passed his life. Broc-
cardo was bred to the law, but could never subdue
that passion for poetry which seemed to form an
element of his nature. The fruits of the hours
which he stole from his studies were several mis-
cellaneous pieces, which, on account of their merit,
found their way into different publications. But
either the praise which attended these first at-
tempts of his muse, or the too high opinion he
had formed of his own powers, led him into an
error which not only blighted his hopes of literary
renown, but caused his death. Trusting to his wit
and the flattery he had received as a young man
of great ability, he ventured to attack Cardinal
Bembo, in his quarrel with whom Bernardo Tasso,

* Giornale de' Letterati.
o 2

292 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

as we have seen, was on the point of being in-
volved. But the reputation of the Cardinal was
too securely established on the prevailing taste of
the day to suffer from the attacks of such an oppo-
nent, and poor Broccardo not only saw the object
of his satire escape without harm, but found him-
self exposed to the general laugh and scorn of the
literary public. The pride and vivacity of youth
were sufficient to buoy him up in making the bold
attempt on the veteran author, but they entirely
forsook him when he saw that he was treated with
ridicule ; his spirits were speedily broken, and,
after a short struggle with his feelings, he was at-
tacked with a disorder, the consequence in a great
measure of his melancholy, which proved fatal.

Molza lived longer and wrote more, but fell a
victim to his dissipated pleasures. In his youth
he equalled the most famous scholars in aptitude
for learning, not confining his attention to Latin
and Greek, but making himself acquainted with
Hebrew while pursuing the ordinary course of
study. Having, however, been sent by his father
to Rome, he had scarcely reached the age of man-
hood when he abandoned himself to pleasure,
which he continued to pursue without restraint
till summoned home by his father, who forthwith

GIOVAX-GIORGIO TRISSINO. 293

married him to a lady of his native city, Modena.
This event took place in 1512, but after remaining
about four years with his wife, he returned to Rome,
and was quickly involved in the same vortex of dissi-
pation from which his father had so lately rescued
him. Ippolito de' Medici and Alessandro Farnese
were his successive protectors, and, considering
his abilities and connexions, there is little doubt
but that he might have advanced himself both in
fortune and reputation; but, while his company
was universally courted, while he was regarded as
the chief ornament of academies, and he could de-
light the most accomplished men in Rome with
his conversation, he was almost reduced to want.
He at length returned to Modena, where he died
in February 1544. The poems of Molza, which
have obtained great praise both for elegance of
style and richness of fancy, were printed with
those of Broccardo in 1538 at Venice.

ilffc of Francesco

FRANCESCO BERNI, from the frequent mention
he makes of himself in the " Orlando Innamorato,"
might almost claim to be placed among the auto-
biographers; but, notwithstanding the accounts
which he has left of himself, it is unknown, ex-
cept from a comparison of incidents in his sub-
sequent life, in what year he was born. Accord-
ing, however, to a calculation, the correctness of
which there is little reason to doubt, his birth took
place in one of the last five or seven years of the
fifteenth century, his father being of an ancient
and noble family, but possessing a fortune far in-
ferior to his ancestral respectability.* He was born

* Mazzuchelli.
o5

298 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

in Lamporecchio, in the Vale of Mevole, whence he
was sent to Florence, where he remained till he was
about nineteen, and then proceeded to Rome. He
had, it appears, a relative there, who was a Cardi-
nal, and is supposed to have been the Cardinal di
Bibbiena. Berni naturally expected that, possess-
ing considerable ability and an active mind, he
should have been greatly aided in his pursuits by
the influence of his kinsman ; but, though he did
him no harm, he was of no service to him, and he
transferred himself, on the death of the Cardinal,
without any regret, to the Cardinal's nephew. The
same fate, however, attended him in his new ser-
vice, and His patience being worn out with the in-
different treatment he received from his relatives,
he attached himself to the Court of the Pope, in
the character of Secretary to the Pontifical Datary.
Though the new situation in which Berni had
thus placed himself was neither more advantageous,
nor the employment less irksome, than that of
attending to the caprices of his powerful relative,
he remained Secretary to the Datary seven years,
spending part of his time at Rome, and part at
Verona, of which see his master, Giammatteo Gi-
berti, was Bishop. He had already entered, it ap-
pears, the ecclesiastical profession, but had made

FRANCESCO BERNI. 299

little advance towards acquiring the wealth or dig-
nities which had been enjoyed by his kinsmen.
There were, however, two great hindrances to his
success besides the indifference or neglect of his
patrons ; he was unconquerably indolent, and he
was a versifier. But, unsuccessful as he was as
a candidate for profitable employments, he was
greatly admired for the liveliness of his disposition,
the elegance of his poems, which he was accus-
tomed to recite before his friends, and the bril-
liancy and variety of his conversation. He thus
acquired considerable popularity as a literary man,
and was regarded as one of the chief personages
in the Academy de' Vignaiuoli, composed of the
most respectable and distinguished men of Rome.
This learned association was founded by a gen-
tleman named Oberto Strozzi, originally of Man-
tua, but who had latterly resided at Naples, on
leaving which city he removed to Rome. The
members of the Academy took poetical names, and
one was known as II Mosto, another as L'Agresto,
and a third as II Corogno, and so on. This was a
fancy which, according to M. Ginguene, was hardly
becoming a grave assembly of learned men : but the
Accademia de' Vignaiuoli was as famed for its convi-
vial festivals as for the erudition of its members;

300 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

and Berni, in his facetious epistles, alludes more
than once to the rich banquets he enjoyed with
his brother academicians. A letter is quoted by
Tiraboschi,* in which Mauro describes a meeting
of this kind, and which he designates as a supper
made for the poets, and given by Signor Musse-
tola, on the eve of St. Lucia. " I, as a poet," says
the writer, " was present, and no other wine was
drunk but that of the vineyards of Pontano,
which was brought by post from Naples. So much
poetic virtue had it in itself, that we all grew
warm, not by looking at it, but by tasting and
drinking it, and that seven or eight times and
more for once, and such was the effect of it that

it made me one of the Muses One M.

Marco da Lodi, at the conclusion of the supper,

sang to his lyre, as did also M. Pietro Polo "

But in the dedication of a work to Strozzi, the
Academy is represented under a graver aspect:
" You were no sooner arrived at Rome," says the
writer, Marco Sabino, " than your house was con-
secrated to the Muses, and became the rendezvous
of all the most famous academicians at the Court,
who almost every day assembling there, as it were
in consistory, Berni brought his excellent bon-mots,

* Storia, vol. vii.

FRANCESCO BERNI. 301

Mauro his abstract pleasantries, Monsignor della
Casa his ever ready and ingenious conceits, Lelio
Capilupo, the Abate Firenzuolo, Francesco Bini,
and the amiable Giovo da Lucca, with many others,
their delightful fancies, and sweetly conversed in
your company, and in your musical banquets, re-
ferring all things to the judgment of two censors.
Thither also came the wonderful improvisatori G.
B. Strozzi, Pero, Niccolo Franciotti, and Csesare
da Fano, who sang at the instant on any subject
proposed to them, and did not more astonish than
delight us !"

Berni was a spectator in the month of Septem-
ber 1526, of the furious attack made on Rome by
the Colonni. In a letter written soon after the
event by Girolamo Negro, the circumstances of
the assault are described with great particularity
and vigour; and, after relating the destruction of
the most splendid apartments in the Papal palace,
with all their valuable furniture, the writer men-
tions that Berni was a sufferer among the rest.
" All the apartments of the corridor were broken
open and destroyed, except that of Campeggio,
which was defended by some Spaniards, who pre-
tended they had taken possession of it. Ridolfi's
was wholly ruined. The Datary saved a good part

302 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

of his property in the castle, but has notwith-
standing suffered great loss ; among other things,
porcelain of the most beautiful kind was broken,
to the value of six hundred ducats. The apart-
ments del Paradise were all destroyed The

apartments of the Vicar of our Lord up to the
very chamber of Alcionio. Berni, whose lodging
adjoins it, was wholly stripped, and besides carry-
ing away his clothes and furniture, they seized
a large pile of letters directed to the Datary, to
whom Berni is secretary; but hearing some one,
I do not know who, cry chiesa ! chiesa ! they left
them behind."*

During his long attendance on the Roman Court,
the only close intimacy he formed with men of
power was that with the Cardinals Niccolo and
Ridolfi, and with his master Giberti, whom he ap-
pears to have regarded with undeviating esteem
and regard. - He was sent by that prelate into
Abruzzo, to superintend the concerns of one of his
abbeys there, to which circumstance he alludes in
a letter to Francesco Bini,f in which he laugh-
ingly assures his friend that he knows what it is
to govern, and in a madrigal, in which he complains
that he was placed by his office in the midst of a

* Lettere di Principi. Yen. 1581.
t Lett. Facete, Raccolte per Atanagi.

FRANCESCO BERNI. 303

certain set who were enemies to good manners.
In company with Giberti he also made several
journeys, and spent a considerable time at Ve-
rona, of which city he makes frequent mention
in his works, at one time lavishing upon it the
most glowing praise, and at another making it the
object of his ridicule. It was there, however, that
he composed, it is said, the chief part of his " Ri-
facimento," and the lines in which he alludes to
this circumstance, are among the most elevated
that his pen produced : —

Tu che per 1'alto, largo e chiaro letto
Ratio correndo fai grato romore,
Raffrena il corso tuo veloce alquanto
Mentre alle ripe tue scrivendo io canto.

Rapido Fiume che d' alpestre vena
Impetuosamente a noi discendi,
E quella Terra sopr' ogn' altra amena
Per mezzo, a guisa di meandro, fendi :

Quella che di valor, d' ingegno e piena
Per cui tu con piu lume, Italia, splendi,
Di cui la fama in te chiara risuona
Eccelsa, graziosa, alma Verona.

Quella, nel cui leggiadro amato seno
Mentre io sto questi versi miei cantando
Dal ciel benigno a lei sempre e sereno
Tanto piglio di buon quanto fuor mando

304 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

E nel fecondo suo lieto terreno
Allargo le radici, e' rami spando,
Qual sterile arbuscel frutto produce
Se in meglior terra, e cielo altri il conduce.

Lib. ii. Can. i. St. 5, 6cc.

Thou, who thy channell'd bed, broad, clear, and deep,

With grateful murmur rapid pour'st along,
Not thus upon thy course so swiftly sweep,

While to thy shores I frame and pen my song !
Thou rapid stream, whose fount impetuous swells

From the cleft Alps, how beauteous is the land
Through which, meander-like, thou wind'st — there dwells

Of virtue and the Muse the sacred band
That wreathes with light, proud Italy, thy name,
And thee, bright, loved Verona ! consecrates to fame.

That beauteous land, upon whose fragrant breast
While thus I weave at ease my wandering strain,
From her blue skies, with calm for ever blest,
My heart more good than what it gives may gain ;
And on her plains, with fertile beauty drest,
My roots increase, my branches spread again,
Even as transplanted to more genial lands
The sterile tree revives, and with new bloom expands.

In a letter written during his residence at Ve-
rona, we find him alluding to the constant occu-
pation afforded him by his situation, which was
not a little augmented by his fondness for corre-

FRANCESCO BERNI. 305

spending with his friends, and by the composition
of his poetry. " My Signor Bini," says he, " you
must be content to give me licence to write no
more, as I have been writing all the morning;"*
and in one of the stanzas of the Innamorato, he
describes himself as constantly surrounded with
letters, some crowded into his bosom, and others
under his arms, while his brains were almost spent
with unceasing writing. Venice, Padua, and the
south of France, were also visited in obedience to
the directions of his master, and considering that
a hatred of all fatigue formed the prominent fea-
ture of his character, it is not surprising that he
at length grew weary of so much travelling and
writing, and sought his dismissal from the post of
Secretary to the Datary.

The only reward he had received for his long
and patient self-denial in the service of Giberti,
was a canonship at Florence, and notwithstanding
his attachment to the Bishop, he was not backward
in expressing his discontent at such a poor return
for his fidelity. A man, however, whose chief
good is the possession of rest, and freedom to enjoy
either his books or his dinner, is far better pre-
pared to meet the disappointments of a courtier,

* Letters, Raccolte dall' Atanagi.

306 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

than one whose ambition is greater than his hopes.
Berni, therefore, quietly resigning himself to his
lot, bade his master adieu, and repaired to Flo-
rence, where his main object was to enjoy himself
in the best manner his income would allow. But
his reputation as a poet, and his late connexion
with the Pontifical Court, recommended him to the
notice of the Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici, and his
cousin the Duke Alexander. Zillioli, as cited by
Mazzuchelli, says that Berni passed his time very
pleasantly, conversing with the numerous literary
men who were ambitious of his acquaintance, and
contenting himself with the faithful and sedulous at-
tention of his favourite Fantesca, and one footman.
The account he has given of his manner of
spending his life is an admirable specimen of his
humour, and has been some time before the Eng-
lish reader in the excellent version which Mr. Rose
has inserted in his useful and elegant analysis of
the Orlando Innamorato. In a similar style he
describes his own character, and allows that he
was passionate, and not always nice in his con-
versation, but contends that he was neither am-
bitious nor avaricious, and that, though he hated
his enemies, he was a warm and steady friend, and

FRANCESCO BERNI. 307

more inclined to love than hate. Of his person
he thus speaks :

Di persona era grande, magro e schietto ;
Lunghe e sotil le gambe forte aveva,
E '1 naso grande, e '1 viso largo e stretto
Lo spazio, che le ciglia didiveva :
Concavo 1' occhio aveva, azzurro e netto.
La barba folta quasi il nascondeva,
Se P avesse portata, ma il padrone
Aveva con le barbe aspra quistione.

His frame was large but spare, nor void of grace,

And his long supple limbs were strong though thin,

Large was his nose, meagre and straight his face,

And small the line his arching brows between,

He had a clear blue eye, but in its place

So deeply set, that it had hidden been

By the thick folded beard's undue dimension,

But with the beard its lord had often fierce contention.

His manner of living, however, gave rise to
many and very serious accusations, and there are
few vices of the worst kind of which Berni was not
accused. Except the caution with which all such
general accusations should be received, especially
when preferred against a man whose careless dis-
position and indolence would expose him at least
as much to slander as to vice, there is little, it

308 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

appears, to be said in contradiction of Berni's
censurers.

There is reason to believe that it was owing to
the indifferent character of our poet, that the story
respecting his death obtained such general credit.
According to several authors, the intimacy which
existed between him and the Cardinal Ippolito,
led to a violent dispute between the poet and
Duke Alexander, which rose to such a height, that
the Cardinal, whose hatred to his cousin was well
known, ventured to ask his assistance in putting
Alexander to death by poison. Berni, however, it
is farther said, was horror-struck at the proposal,
and refusing to have any share in such an iniquitous
design, was himself poisoned by the Cardinal, and
died on the 26th of July, 1536. Another account
states, that it was the Duke who wished to poison
the Cardinal, and invited Berni to assist him, and
that the latter did not die till 1543, when he was
poisoned by Alexander. But with respect to the
former of these relations, it is observed that Berni
was certainly not poisoned by the Cardinal, who
died in 1535, and fell, as is supposed, a victim to
his cousin's machinations; and in respect to the
latter account, that it is very improbable that the

FRANCESCO BERNI. 309

Duke should have destroyed him for not poison-
ing a person who had already been dead a year.

Berni enjoys as high a degree of reputation as
can possibly be gained, perhaps, by the class of
writing in which his genius enabled him to excel.
He occupies, without dispute, the highest place
among the comic poets of his country, and some
of his admirers have gone so far as to contend
that he was the first Italian who wrote in this
style, an assertion which, without a very useless
refinement upon words, can hardly be supported,
when even the Beoni of Lorenzo de' Medici is
remembered, the strange productions of Burchiello,
or many of the passages in the] Morgante Mag-
giore of Pulci. If, however, a refinement of lan-
guage and delicacy of humour unknown to previous
writers, can give this author a claim to originality,
he richly deserves the praise of having founded a
new school of poetry ; but for the honour not only of
poetry but of genius itself, it should never be for-
gotten that there is a great and essential difference
between the sparkling wit of a writer like Berni,
and the rich humour which is so often the accom-
paniment of the highest powers of mind. Berni
was a scholar, had a good ear, was well skilled in

310 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

the Lingua Cortigiana, could rhyme with facility,
and loved at his heart both mirth and satire ; his
verses derive their superiority from this union of
excellent qualities for a burlesque poet, but they
have little in them to give relief to the glare
of wit with which they are suffused, except some
learned or satirical allusion, which may occasion-
ally succeed in diverting the reader, but can rarely
afford us the same pleasure as humour of a higher
class. Berni possessed no great or lofty powers of
mind ; little or no imagination, and as little feeling ;
he had consequently only his wit and command
of language to trust to for all he wished to effect.
That he succeeded in reaching the object he had in
view, is allowed on all sides ; but he has been placed
in a more conspicuous light than any mere humour-
ist deserves, and smile as we must at the ludicrous
picture he has left of himself, swimming in his bed
six yards wide, sucking soups and jellies through a
pipe because to use his teeth was too great a la-
bour, and counting the beams in the ceiling of his
room in all possible ways for amusement ; however
we may smile at this at the first reading, we find
nothing but the picture of a lazy fellow, more lazy
than ordinary, at the second. What is worse, the
same picture is again and again presented us in

FRANCESCO BERNI. 311

other poems of the author, and we must have a great
appetite for such humour, if we are not soon weary
of his intolerable repetitions on the subject of his
indolence, his hatred of disturbance, and his love
of good cheer. Even in his letters, his facetious-
ness is continually resolving itself into this topic ;
and with all his ingenuity and good taste, Berni
seems to have clung to his own picture as his best
study on all occasions, and never to have suspected
that a wit who is constantly talking of himself, is
not less tiresome after a little time than any other
egotist. When we add to this, that several of his
minor productions are most grossly obscene, and
that he owed, it is probable, much of the reputa-
tion he enjoyed among his contemporaries to wit
employed in this base manner, we must place him
still lower in the ranks of his distinguished country-
men ; and shall not perhaps be guilty of much in-
justice, if we regard him as one of those ecclesi-
astical epicureans of the sixteenth century, whose
infidelity and licentiousness would have branded
them with immediate infamy, but that the wit of
some, the profound politics of others, and the hy-
pocrisy of the rest, screened them from observation.
The work, on which the extensive reputation of
Berni chiefly rests, is his Rifacimento of Boiardo's

312 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

Orlando Innamorato, a production which has had
the singular success of rendering the original
poem, of which it is a revision, almost obsolete,
though for near two centuries after its publi-
cation it was itself unread and almost unknown.
The object which Berni proposed to himself in re-
vising the Orlando, has been differently stated by
different authors ; by some, he is supposed to have
formed the idea of rivalling Ariosto, while others,
and with more probability, assert that he only in-
tended to improve the antiquated and unclassical
language of Boiardo, and by interspersing it with
strokes of humour, give it a degree of life and
animation which it wanted in its original form.
Varchi observes, that if he ever conceived the idea
of rivalling Ariosto, he showed himself to be utterly
void of that taste, judgment, and prudence, which
he was reputed to possess. But supposing that he
only aimed at improving the poem in the manner
stated above, the opinions of most of the critics are
in his favour, and Mazzuchelli observes, that he may
easily be cleared from the accusations of those who
pretend that he was guilty of presumption in at-
tempting to improve the Orlando, since " he has by
no means injured the poem, but on the contrary has
augmented its celebrity." He also observes, that

FRANCESCO BERNI. 313

though Teofilo Folengo, Lodovico Dolce, and Are-
tino tried the experiment of re-making the work
of Berni himself, not one of them completed the
undertaking. " Boiardo was much read," says
M. Ginguene, " before Ariosto published his poem,
but the Orlando Furioso threw it into oblivion.
An attempt was made to continue it by Agostini,
to reform it by Domenichini ; but the only way of
reforming it was wholly to re-model it, to disengage
it from the too serious form which Boiardo had
given it, and to borrow, in order to revive it, some
colours from the pallet of Ariosto. Berni ventured
to undertake this task, and he succeeded ; but it is
much less surprising that he was successful, than
that, with a genius so free and independent, he
could so closely follow the original, canto after canto,
and even stanza after stanza. It is, in fact, prin-
cipally the style which he has re-made ; but it is
style, above all, which makes a poem live ; and as
the Orlando Innamorato re-made by Berni is that of
all Italian romantic epics which approaches nearest
to the Orlando Furioso, so is it that which, next to
the Orlando Furioso, is most read." Like Mazzu-
chelli, M. Ginguene contends that Boiardo is much
indebted to Berni. " In effacing the poem as he
did, he in fact preserved Boiardo's renown, which

VOL. II. P

314 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

must have perished had he only been the author of
a poem which nobody read; but while the work
is read in its new form, the public is continually
reminded, seeing it even on the title of the book,
that it was first composed by Boiardo, and that it
is only owing to the style of the second of these
poets that they enjoy the inventions of the first." *

M. Panizzi, however, allows much less merit to
Berni, and while he bestows upon him considerable
praise for his humour, and for the elegance of his
language, very justly finds fault with the taste and
indiscretion of those who have contributed to the
substitution of the Rifacimento for the original
work. He has also adduced more than one instance
in which the alteration made in the stanzas of Boi-
ardo is an injury rather than improvement to the
poem, and at the same time suggests that there are
reasons for doubting whether the Rifacimento be,
in fact, the entire work of our author.

Before concluding this memoir, it may be as well
to mention that Berni's undertaking, able and ac-
complished as he was, was far less venturous than
that of another poet, Niccolo degli Agostini. Not
thinking of confining himself to the improvement
of Boiardo's versification or language, he at once

* Hist. Lit. vol. iv. c. x.

FRANCESCO BERNI. 315

determined to rival him in invention, from which the
lively Berni modestly shrank, and which he never at-
tempted. Thirty-three new cantos, however, were
produced, and published with the original Orlando
Innamorato, but they were speedily consigned to
oblivion. It may perhaps be regarded as some
excuse for this continuator of Boiardo, who is al-
lowed to have possessed neither taste nor fancy,
that he was urged to the attempt by Francis II.
Sforza, Duke of Milan, in whose employ he appears
to have been at the time he commenced the work.
His labour, however, was interrupted for as long a
period as ten years, during which time, it is sup-
posed, he was in disgrace with his patron ; but little
is known of the particulars of his life, and his pro-
ductions are more an object of curiosity to the his-
torian than the biographer.

Berni has been followed by a host of imitators,
whose style has received, from the name of the
founder of the school, the appellation of Bernesche.
Lord Byron, who seems to have been a careful
reader of the Italian comic poets, and translated
part of Pulci's " Morgante Maggiore," may be
termed one of Berni's imitators.

p 2

Cfie Hfft of &lamannt<

Klamanni

LUIGI ALAMANNI was born at Florence on the
28th of October 1495, and was the son of Pietro
di Francesco Alamanni by his fourth wife, Ginevra
di Niccolo Paganelli. His early years were
spent in the university of his native city, and his
love for literature bringing him acquainted with
the most distinguished men of the day, he shortly
made himself conspicuous for ability in the compo-
sition of light poetry. In the garden of Bernardo
Rucellai, forming, it is said, one of the most delicious
retreats that philosophers ever enjoyed, he was
accustomed to join a party of friends in discussing
subjects of interest in philosophy and literature.

320 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

While he was still a youth, he thus enjoyed the ad-
vantages of hearing such men as the celebrated
Macchiavelli, Buondelmonti, Francesco Vettria and
others, develope their favourite opinions ; while the
presence and conversation of Giovan-giorgio Tris-
sino, whom he regarded as a master as well as a com-
panion, inspired him with the desire of acquiring
excellence in the art to which his genius led him.

About the year 1516, he married Alessandra
Serristori, and by the interest which his father pos-
sessed with the Cardinal Giulio de' Medici, was re-
ceived at Court with the most flattering attention.
The patronage which the Cardinal extended to
him, gave his friends reason to hope that he would
speedily rise to the most lucrative posts in the
government ; but whether the capriciousness of the
Prince, or the irritability of his own temper was the
cause, he offended his patron, and so greatly that
all favour was withdrawn from him. The disgust
he felt at what he considered an unjust neglect,
led him into committing other offences. It had been
ordered by the Cardinal, that whoever was found
with arms on his person should be fined ; Luigi,
either neglecting this command in order to insult
the Prince, or from an idea that his quality as a
courtier exempted him from the decree, was taken

ALAMANNI. 321

late one evening wearing his arms, and was accord-
ingly condemned to pay the penalty. His anger at
this circumstance is said to have known no bounds,
and he was thenceforth wholly employed in seek-
ing the means of satisfying his resentment.

The death of Leo X., which occurred in Decem-
ber 1521, afforded him an opportunity for putting
his designs into execution. As he was not the
only Florentine of rank who had reason to be dis-
contented with the Cardinal, he found little diffi-
culty in forming a party to aid him in his views.
Among the foremost were his literary friends Za-
nobi Buondelmonti, Jacopo da Diacceto and others,
and the plot having been fully arranged, they re-
solved, by putting the Cardinal to death, to free
their country from what they considered a state of
disgraceful servitude. The conspirators, however,
did not depend on their own exertions solely for
the success of the enterprise, and a messenger
from one of their principal confederates being in-
tercepted, the plot was made known to the Car-
dinal. Jacopo da Diacceto was soon after taken,
and being put to a public examination, no doubt
remained as to the chief movers of the insurrection.
Fortunately for them, intelligence arrived at Buon-
delmonti's, in whose grounds they were met for
p 5

32*2 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

consultation, sufficiently early to allow of their
escape. Alamanni happened at the time to be
a short distance out of town, but receiving the
tidings by one of his friends, he fled without
loss of time into the territory of the Duke of Ur-
bino, and from thence to Venice, where he met
many of his associates, and was hospitably enter-
tained with them in the house of the senator Carlo
Capello. But they had not been long settled in
Venice when the Cardinal de' Medici was advanced
to the pontifical dignity, and it quickly became evi-
dent they could not with safety remain there any
longer. Alamanni and some of his companions,
therefore, immediately took their departure, but
in passing by Brescia, they were seized and thrown
into confinement. Happily, their persons were
unknown, or were pretended to be so by those who
captured them, and after suffering a brief inter-
ruption to their journey, they were suffered to
proceed. Our author now visited many parts of
Italy and France, and was received in the latter
country with great attention by Francis I., to whom
he owed so much kindness in the concluding years
of his life. In the October of 1525, as he was
passing the sea between the Isle of Elba and that

ALAMANNI. 323

of Giglio, he was taken suddenly ill and narrowly
escaped with his life.

The events which occurred during the two fol-
lowing years, restored Alamanni to his native city.
Clement VII., having fallen a prisoner into the hands
of the Emperor, saw himself on all sides stripped
of his possessions ; while the Florentines, rejoicing
at the opportunity offered them for recovering their
liberty, instantly expelled his partisans and esta-
blished a popular government. It was now, how-
ever, strongly debated whether, they should seek to
pacify the Pope, or seek the alliance of his enemy.
A general assembly was convened to discuss this
question with proper formality. Alamanni was
present with the rest of the citizens, but, holding
no office, did not take part in the debate, till ex-
pressly called upon for his opinions, which he ex-
pressed, after some modest hesitation, with admi-
rable eloquence. To the surprise of all present, he
spoke in contradiction to the ruling party, which
gave birth to so many suspicions against him that
he was obliged to retire to Genoa.

But if men of eminent talents are exposed in
turbulent times to the jealousy or opposition of the
multitude, they are generally recompensed for any

324 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

temporary trouble by the honour shown them the
moment the populace begins to lose the confi-
dence they had placed in their own councils. Ala-
manni while at Genoa, in October 1527, was elected
Commissary-General by the Florentines, who could
think of no man equally fitted to aid them in their
approaching contest with the allied forces of France
and Venice. Forgetting the injurious treatment he
had received at the hands of his fellow-citizens, he
accepted the office, and by his zeal and ability per-
formed the functions of his situation to the general
satisfaction of the Republic. In the year following
his election to the Commissariat, he was inscribed
in the Florentine militia formed at that period ; and
in 1529, pronounced an oration in the church of
Santa Croce, in the presence of the soldiery and
the magistrates.

Shortly after this, circumstances occurred which
again called forth his political sentiments on the
subject of the connection between Florence and the
great powers of Europe. The late campaign having
terminated in the discomfiture of the French and
their Italian allies, the former had entered into a
secret negotiation with the Emperor, and the Pope
only stipulated for the restoration of the Medici to
Florence, as the condition of his joining in the

ALAMANNI. 325

treaty. Alamanni, finding affairs in this situation,
counselled the Republic in the strongest terms to
send an ambassador to the Emperor, and if possible
obtain an accommodation. In this measure he was
supported by the famous Admiral Andrea Doria,
who secretly encouraged him to proceed in the de-
sign ; but all his efforts proved vain, and finding
himself again treated with unmerited suspicion, he
once more returned to Genoa. He, however, con-
tinued to exert himself with his friends and parti-
sans to effect the objects he thought so essential to
the benefit and safety of his country. To this end,
he went with his friend Doria into Spain ; during his
stay in which country, he discovered that a treaty
was entered into by the Pope and the Emperor, of
which the principal article respected the restoration
of the Medici to Florence, which was to be accom-
plished under the protection of an Imperial army
about to march into Italy. Immediately on making
this important discovery he hastened back to Flo-
rence, and had scarcely arrived there when the
Emperor was on his way to Genoa. The Repub-
lic, on finding the perilous situation in which it
stood, sent four ambassadors, with Alamanni at the
head of the mission, to meet the monarch and pro-
pose terms. The embassy reached Savona, where

326 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

Charles was detained in his passage by contrary
winds, and our poet was received with the most
courteous attention ; but after two days of fruitless
negotiation and discussions, which were continued
till both parties entered Genoa, the Emperor de-
clared his resolution to reinstate the Medici in
their former authority, and at last signified that as
he could not do it by persuasion, he should employ
force. Florence was accordingly soon after be-
sieged by the united forces of the Pope and the Em-
peror, and Alamanni, after remaining some months
at Genoa, proceeded to Lyons in 1530, where he
applied to the Florentine merchants settled there
for a loan of money to assist the Republic in its
defence. They, in their turn, applied to the King
of France, who was greatly their debtor, and hav-
ing collected a considerable sum they sent part of
it to Pisa, while Alamanni carried the remainder
to Genoa, where it is feared, by indulging in his
ruling vice, the love of play, he lost some of the
money committed to his trust.

Florence soon after this, that is in the August of
1530, was obliged to open its gates to the Imperial
forces, and Alessandro de' Medici being reinstated
in his authority, the principal persons of the con-
quered party were condemned either to banishment

ALAMANNI. 327

or imprisonment. Among the rest, Alamanni was
confined three years in Provence, where he became
acquainted with the lady whom he commemorates
in his verses under the name of " Ligura Pian-
tra." Finding at length that there was no chance
of a change in the affairs of his country, he re-
solved upon seeking the favour of Francis I., who
was known to be passionately fond of Italian poe-
try, and a general favourer of learned men. On
arriving at the Court of this monarch, Alamanni was
received with the greatest respect, and was subse-
quently placed in many lucrative offices. He was
also honoured with the collar of the Order of St.
Michael, and by the munificent patronage of the
King was enabled to cultivate his genius without
interruption. The fruits of the leisure he thus en-
joyed appeared in 1532, under the title of " Opere
Toscane," and with a dedication to Francis.

In the following year, on the marriage taking
place between the Duke of Orleans and Catherine
de' Medici, he was appointed by the latter Master
of the Household, and not long after manifested his
gratitude for this promotion by presenting his royal
mistress with his poem entitled " Coltivazione,"
which he dedicated to the King, to whom he begged
her to send it. For six years he remained in

328 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

France, without revisiting any part of Italy ; but
from some lines in one of his sonnets, it appears
that he had then the gratification of repassing the
Alps, and beholding the scenes which had been
rendered still dearer by his exile. " I thank God,"
says he, " that I turn my steps to see thee at least
once more, after six years' absence, superb Italia !"

It was in the same year that Alamanni paid this
visit to his native country that Duke Alessandro
was killed, and it is not impossible that his journey
was in some manner connected with the various
plots which had been long in agitation by the exiled
party. On the death of Clement VII. in 1534, six
procurators were chosen by the fugitives to inter-
cede with the Emperor, and of these our poet was
one ; but his absence not allowing him to act, his
place, it is worthy of mention, was supplied by a
namesake of the great Dante. The efforts made
on this occasion proved unavailing, and no better re-
sult attended the application which on the death of
the Duke was made with stronger hopes of success.

The years 1538 and 1539 were passed in Rome,
as also the former part of 1540. It is supposed
that at this period he was under the protection of
the Cardinal Ippolito d' Este, but, however this may
be, he shortly after proceeded to Naples, and from

ALAMANNI. 329

thence passed the confines of Florence to Ferrara,
Padua, and Mantua, where he was in the April of
1540, before the end of which he returned to
France. The following year he made another jour-
ney into Italy, and is said to have been present at
the Carnival of Ferrara, and heard Giraldi Cintio
recite for the first time his celebrated tragedy of
" Orbecche." In 1543 he was about to set out as
ambassador from Francis to Genoa, but was pre-
vented by the political situation of that State.

The year 1544 is an era in his life worthy of no-
tice, as he was then sent ambassador to the Empe-
ror Charles V. in Spain. This mission was the more
formidable, as he had written, during the war be-
tween the two monarchs, some verses which ex-
pressed the bitterest dislike of the Emperor, and
were well known to have reached his ears. Among
the rest were these lines —

. L' Aquila grifagna

Che per piu divorar due becchi porta.

On arriving at the Court, he was admitted to a
morning's audience, and in the presence of a large
number of the greatest personages of the empire,
delivered an oration in praise of the Sovereign.
Unfortunately, however, several of the verses began
consecutively with the word " aquila," and when he

330 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

finished his speech, which Charles had listened
to with the greatest attention, the latter quietly
added

L' aquila grifagna

Che per piu divorar due becchi porta.

Alamanni never gave a better proof of his wit
as a courtier, or of his confidence as a republi-
can, than now. Instead of being struck dumb with
confusion, he replied with a grave countenance,
" In those lines, most magnanimous Prince, I spoke
as a poet, whose privilege it is to fable and invent ;
now I reason as an ambassador, in whom it would
be disgraceful to utter any thing false, and espe-
cially when I am sent from so sincere and holy a
Prince as mine, to a Prince so sincere and holy as
your Majesty. Formerly I wrote as a youth, now
I speak as an old man : then full of disdain and
anger at finding myself expelled from my coun-
try by the Duke ; now free from every passion,
and assured that your Majesty intended no in-
justice : then filled with false information, now in-
formed by the infinite experience of what I have
seen and heard in my commerce with the world."
Charles had the good sense to be perfectly satisfied
with this apology, and laying his hand on the ora-
tor's shoulder, said, " that he greatly regretted that

ALAMANNI. 331

the event at Florence had occasioned the exile of so
excellent a person, but that there was the less to
regret, as he had by that means obtained the pa-
tronage of the great and generous Francis, and
that every nation was the country of a virtuous
man." To these gracious words the Emperor added
some rich presents, and dismissed the ambassador
delighted with his reception, and the courtesy
with which he had been treated not only by the
sovereign but by all his nobles. On his return
to France, he was rewarded by Francis with new
grants, bestowed on him and his son ; and on the
accession of Henry II. to the throne, he was treated
by that monarch with the same regard as he had
enjoyed under the heroic Francis. The young
king, after presenting him with a large gold orna-
ment, desired him to complete the poem of "Girone
il Cortese," begun some time before, and which he
finished and published with a dedication to Henry
in 1548. He appears also to have been equally
esteemed by the new monarch for his political ex-
perience, as some of his letters allude to the jour-
neys he made on public business, and he is known
to have visited Genoa in 1551, to obtain its assist-
ance in the war which, Henry undertook against
the Emperor to defend his ally the Duke of Parma.

332 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

He was not successful in this mission, and on his
return to France, he resumed his poetical labours
by continuing the " Avarchide," which, however, he
did not live to complete. His death was occasioned
by a dysentery, which attacked him while resid-
ing with the Court at Amboise, and terminated his
existence on the 18th of April 1556. His re-
mains were deposited, according to Ghilini, in the
church of the Cordeliers in Paris.

Alamanni had by his first wife Alessandra Ser-
ristori two sons, Batista and Niccolo, who severally
enjoyed the highest offices in the church and
state. He had also another son and daughter
who died young. The following is a list of the
works of this author, now little remembered, but
one of the most distinguished men of the sixteenth
century.

" Opere Toscane," consisting of Elegies, divided
into four books, of which the first three are amor-
ous, and the fourth devotional. Eclogues, written
in imitation of Theocritus, and in blank verse,
which he is said to have been among the first to
bring into use, Trissino being allowed to have the
better claim to originality. Sonetti, Ballate, and
Canzone ; Favole, Satire, and the Salmi Penitenziali,
form the remainder of the first volume of the " Opere
Toscane." The second consists of " Selve," divided

ALAMANNI. 333

into three books, and written in blank verse ; of the
Favola di Fetonte ; and the Tragedia di Antigone,
merely a translation from that of Socrates of the
same name, but done in so admirable a style, that
it acquired the praises of the most excellent Italian
critics ; of Hymns, composed in imitation of Pindar,
and which have obtained him the reputation of
being the first to introduce that species of poem
among his countrymen, and to employ the classical
divisions of strophe, anti-sti ophe, and epode, named
by him ballata, contra-ballata, and stanza ; and of
Stanze, in ottava rima ; and Sonnets, intermixed
with ballate.

The other works of Alamanni are, 1. La Colti-
vazione, considered as one of the most excellent
poems that Italy has produced in the secondary
class of composition. It is in blank verse, and is
an express imitation of Virgil's Georgics, which it
is considered as sometimes to equal, and in one or
two passages to surpass. 2. Girone il Cortese,
which is supposed to be little more than a poetical
version of the old French romance of the same
name, which the author mentions as the foundation
of the work in his dedication to Henry; it was, how-
ever, never much esteemed. 3. L'Avarchide, which
derived its name from Avariam, the ancient appel-
lation of the city of Bourges, the capital of Berri,

334 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

and the siege of which forms the subject of the
poem. Like the Girone il Cortese, it met with no
success, owing perhaps not so much to the author's
want of poetical fervour, as to his absurd pre-
tensions of imitating Homer. 4. Flora, a comedy,
equally unesteemed. 5. Epigrammi, consisting of
one hundred and twenty-two Italian decasyllabics.
6. Orazione. 7. Rime, or miscellaneous pieces,
which are to be found in several collections of
Italian poetry, edited at various times by different
Italian scholars. 8. Lettere, of which a very few
only remain. 9. Some remarks on Homer, which
were sufficiently esteemed to be published in the
Cambridge edition of 1689.

It has been supposed that he wrote other works
which were left unpublished. The principal of
these are, La Liberta, a tragedy ; but Mazzuchelli
says that he made every effort to discover any
remains of this poem without effect, and therefore
considers it probable that it was erroneously attri-
buted to his pen ; besides which, many other mis-
cellaneous pieces are ascribed to him, and several
romances, which II Doni and others assert he
wrote, but their testimony is rejected by Mazzu-
chelli, who supposes the mistake to have arisen
from an equivocal use of the word Romanza, ap-
plied to fictions whether in prose or verse.

3Life of JSattteta ©uartnu

23attfeta tfluartnt.

THE name of Battista Guarini holds a conspi-
cuous place among those of the celebrated men
whose genius shed so great a splendour over the
Court of Ferrara. He was born in the year 1537,
and was the son of Francesco Guarini and the
Countess Orsolo Baldassare Macchiavelli. His an-
cestor Guarino Guarini removed from Verona to
Ferrara in the middle of the fourteenth century,
and was appointed to the professorship of the
Greek language and literature by Niccolo III.
Marquis of Este.* He performed the duties of this
office with great reputation, and was regarded by
* Barotti, Sent. Fer.

VOL. II. Q

338 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

his contemporaries as one of the most accomplished
scholars of the time. Of the early life of Battista
little or nothing is known for certain. By some
authors he is said to have passed 1556 and the
two following years at the University of Padua,
but the first circumstance in his history which
can be depended upon, is his appointment in 1557
to a professorship in the same school in which his
distinguished ancestor had taught, and which was
left vacant by the death of his master Alessandro,
a scholar of great learning and eminence.

Ferrara at this period was as famous for the learned
men of its university as for the numerous nobility
and lustre of its court. The wars of Alfonso I. had
compelled that prince to contract his domestic ex-
penses in every way that was practicable ; and
amongst the other methods he employed for that
purpose, was the dismissal of many of the profes-
sors of the university. In the time, however, of
Hercules II. it was restored to its former flou-
rishing condition, and philosophers and learned men
from all parts of Europe, from England among the
rest, frequented and lectured in its schools. While
war raged in other quarters of Italy, and several of
its universities were thereby exposed to attack,
that of Ferrara formed the asylum of the exiled

BATTISTA GUARINI. 339

professors, and reaped the advantage of their united
abilities. Bartolommeo Ricci, in a letter written to
a friend in 1556, the year before Guarini was made
professor, says, that owing to the pestilence that
raged in one part of Italy, and the war that dis-
turbed another, Ferrara enjoyed an unusual con-
course both of teachers and scholars. The Duke,
however, took a share in the war the following year,
and the schools were for a short time closed, but
to the gratification of our poet and the other learned
men engaged in promoting the glory of the uni-
versity, it was soon after put in a condition for
again asserting its right to rank among the most
famous academies in Europe.

The learning and eloquence of Guarini obtained
him considerable reputation ; he was regarded as
the most accomplished orator of the age, and his
lectures on poetry and rhetoric were universally
admired. He had, it appears, more ambition to be
l6oked up to for his erudition and oratorical abi-
lities than to obtain fame as a poet, considering the
latter title, it is remarked, either as of little value,
or as pertaining only to a set of idlers.* It must
not, however, be forgotten, that the author who puts
this sentiment into the mouth of Guarini, resigned
* Apostolo Zeno, Galleria c)i Minerva.
Q 2

340 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

his own chance of a long-enduring and noble repu-
tation to become a courtier, and that he sacrificed
the fruits of extensive learning, and a life spent in
the exercise of great talents, to be the servant of a
German Emperor. The fate of both Guarini and
himself was such as they merited : the one suffered
the constant uneasiness of discontent and a disap-
pointed ambition; the other enjoys only a small
fragment of the fame he might have won had he
been content to exercise his eminent talents with
freedom, and as they were most likely to aid the
cause of learning and philosophy.

Guarini, however, was not unsuccessful in his
pursuit of distinction at Court. Alfonso received
him into his service in the year 1567, and trusting
to his known abilities as an orator, sent him on a
mission to Venice, to congratulate the new Doge,
Loredano, having previously raised him to the
rank of a Cavalier. Considerable doubt exists as
to the chronological order in which his various
journeys ought to be arranged; but there is good
reason to believe, that after his return from Venice,
his first journey in a public capacity, and having
published the oration which he addressed to Lore-
dano, he was sent as ambassador to Savoy, where
he resided several years ; and that on being recall-
ed from that station, he proceeded to Rome ; his

BATTISTA GUARINI. 341

journey to which city occurred in the year 1571, and
when such was the speed with which he travelled,
and the shortness of the notice he had received to
prepare for the business of the mission, that he was
obliged to compose the address he was to deliver
before the new Pope and the conclave of Cardinals
during the night on which he arrived. He, how-
ever, preserved his reputation as a consummate
rhetorician, and it has been asserted, though it
appears on insufficient grounds, that Gregory em-
ployed his talents in some important affairs of his
own. As another proof of the esteem in which
he was held as an orator, it is also mentioned that
at the funerals of the Emperor Maximilian and the
Cardinal Luigi d'Este, which were solemnized at
Ferrara, Guarini had the honour of pronouncing
the orations customary on such occasions.*

In the year 1563, he was sent into Poland to
congratulate Henry of Valois on his election to the
throne of that kingdom; and on his way thither
visited the Emperor of Germany. On his return
from the North, Alfonso saw so much reason to be
satisfied with his conduct, that he made him Secre-
tary of State and Counsellor ; but events occurred
shortly after, which again called for the exercise
of his ability as an ambassador. Henry of Valois,

* Niceron, Mem.des Homines Illus.

342 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

after having for a brief period occupied the throne
of Poland, was recalled to France by the death of
Charles IX., which left him heir to the crown. The
kingdom of Poland was thus again become an ob-
ject of contention to the princes of Europe, and
Alfonso being desirous of gaining the prize, but
anxious to avoid any disgrace if he should be de-
feated, entrusted the management of this delicate
and important affair to Guarini and another of his
courtiers, Gualengui. A curious account of this
journey is given by Guarini himself in a letter to
his wife, which I extract : —

" This, which you read, is my letter and yet is
not my letter; it is mine by dictation, but still is
not mine, for I did not write it. You have not,
however, so much cause to grieve that it was not
written by my hand, as you have reason to rejoice
that I had a tongue to say that which otherwise
either a vain compassion or little charity would
have perhaps concealed. I know well you have
complained at not having received letters from me,
but I have no need to make an apology, the cause of
the omission being much more lamentable than the
effect. Do not complain that my silence has been
long ; thank God that it was not eternal. I set off,
as you know, more like a courier than an orator ;

BATTISTA GUARINI. 343

I should, however, have been content to fatigue
my body could I have rested my mind; but the
hand that during the day urged on the horses, was
employed through the night in turning over papers,
in the same way that Rome saw me arrive in the
evening by post, and the next morning beheld me
in the consistory to offer homage to Gregory XIII.
Nature could not sustain this twofold fatigue of
body and mind, especially as I travelled by Sara-
valle and Ampez, the worst and most disagreeable
road, not only on account of its own roughness but
of the people, the badness of the horses, and the
wretchedness of the inns. The consequence of all
was, that on entering Hala I was attacked with a
sharp fever. Notwithstanding this I set out imme-
diately for Vienna. What I suffered I leave you
to imagine ; constant fever, thirst, and scarcely a
physician to be met with ; wretched lodgings,
and poisoned with stench ; food that would turn
the stomach of even a healthy person ; beds which
choke one in the feathers ; in short, none of those
accommodations which are so necessary to a poor
sick traveller. The evil every day became worse,
and my strength to support it less ; my taste ab-
horring every thing but wine; there was, there-
fore, little hope of my living, and that little was

344 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

even odious to me. I found myself in this con-
dition on the Danube, a stream so vast and ra-
pid, that not a vessel could be navigated on it did
not the pilots avail themselves of the assistance
of the men of the country, who are very muscular,
strong, and accustomed to danger, and who are
always ready with their oars to work the vessel
against the fury of the torrent. The place is
worthy of the name which it has gained by its
famous infamy, ' The Pass of Death.' There is no
person so bold who does not fear as the bark
makes its way along that track, for it is, in truth,
a frightful and formidable undertaking. But, for
my part, I was so ill, that having lost all sense of
danger or desire of living, I did not care to go
out, but kept in the vessel with a few bold men; I
hardly know whether I should say stupidly or in-
trepidly, but I will say intrepidly, since I was
within two paces of death and had no fear. At
last I reached Vienna, where a physician, neglect-
ing to consider the state of my body, gave me
poison instead of medicine, and my disease, instead
of being subdued, raged so much the more. You
will, perhaps, say that I ought to have been firm,
and taken more care of my life. This was the
counsel which my common sense, my sickness, and

BATTISTA GUARINI. 345

my strength, the natural desire of life, the love of
my creatures, the necessities of my house and
children dictated ; but my honour gave me a diffe-
rent counsel, which was, that being the head of the
embassy, and having upon my shoulders the whole
weight of this great and important business, I ought
to prefer the service of my master to my life, and
prove my zeal in such a manner that the King of
Poland might be able to argue from my death in
favour of my Prince, instead of suspecting from my
life that I was guilty of deceit by not pressing for-
ward to perform those promises which were ex-
pected to be fulfilled.

" With this idea in my mind, it is hardly pos-
sible to imagine what I suffered in the journey of
more than six hundred miles from Venice to War-
saw, not conveyed but dragged and torn along
by the vehicle. I know not how I existed. The
fever continued unabated ; I could neither eat nor
sleep, nor was there any remedy for my disorder.
The cold was excessive, the annoyances without
number, the roads almost uninhabited, and it was
generally more tolerable to pass the night in the
vehicle which shattered me to pieces in the day,
than to be suffocated in the stench of the hovels,
— sties, rather, in which the dogs, and the cocks
Q 5

346 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

and hens, and the geese, and the pigs, and the
cow, and the children were all mixed together.
The difficulty, moreover, of the route is not a little
increased by the hordes of robbers who infest the
country ; and it is necessary to be well escorted,
and often to leave the direct road, to avoid falling
into their hands, which, notwithstanding, we were
more than once near doing, but by Divine goodness
I escaped. At length I reached Warsaw, but much
more dead than alive. The only ease I find, after
having suffered and while still suffering so much,
is in the possibility of standing upright instead of
being cramped in the vehicle. With regard to rest,
I can get none either night or day. My fever is
now the least of my miseries ; the accidents and
circumstances are worse : the place, the season,
the food, the drink, the water, the servants, the
physic, the physicians, the labour of mind, and a
thousand other circumstances contrive to distress
me. If I were not thus annoyed, I could struggle
against the fever ; but I cannot even tell whether
my not being able to sleep be the fault of my sick-
ness or of the noise about me. Imagine the whole
nation lodged in a little spot of ground, and my
chamber in the midst. There is not a place either
above, or below, or on either side, — there is not an

BATTISTA GUARINI. 347

hour of the day or night not filled with noise and
tumult. There is no particular time here destined
to business ; here they always traffic, because they
always drink, and without wine things fall to the
ground. When business terminates, then visiting
begins ; and when the latter fails, drums and trum-
pets, bombardings, rumours, shouts, tumults, and
every other kind of noise, supply the vacuum. Oh,
if I suffered all these torments for the love and
glory of God, I should be a martyr. Prepare your-
self for every fortune. It is the part only of a simple
woman to lament violently the death of a husband
who fears not to die. Let others honour me with
their tears, do you honour me by your fortitude.
I commend to you our children, who, if I die, will
have to find in you a father as well as a mother.
Support yourself with reflection and manly reso-
lution."

Guarini did not succeed in the main object of
the mission, but he preserved the credit of his
master uninjured, and Alfonso professed great ad-
miration of the talents by which his pride had been
thus kept from receiving any wound. But the poet
had too many enemies at court to allow of his
reaping the rewards he merited. During his jour-
neys, the most active measures were taken to ruin

348 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

his hopes of advancement, and he had not only to
contend with the violent fatigues to which he was
necessarily exposed, but with the harassing sus-
picion that, labouring as he was for his Prince, he
should be finally suffered to die neglected. Al-
lusion is probably made to these circumstances in
scene 1, act 5 of the Pastor Fido, where Guarini
is supposed to lament his lot under the character
of Carino.

Completely wearied, at length, with disappoint-
ment, and finding that, instead of improving his
income by living at court, he should be ruining the
moderate fortune he possessed, he resolved to re-
tire from Ferrara, and endeavour to content him-
self in the bosom of his family. In 1582, accord-
ingly, he requested his dismissal from the Duke,
and proceeded to his estate in the Polesine of Ro-
vigo, named La Guarina, after his great grand-
father, to whom it was granted by Duke Borso, in
reward of his services as ambassador to France.
But, owing to the situation of this estate, Guarini,
it appears, was almost continually engaged in some
law-suit to defend his right to possession ; and
this circumstance, with the pressure of numerous
debts, and a family of eight children, some of
whom regarded him with little affection, greatly

BATTISTA GUARINI. 349

contributed to prevent his enjoying the repose he
had hoped to find in the country. In a letter writ-
ten from Venice, where he was prosecuting his
process, and addressed to Cornelio Bentivoglio, who
had married his wife's sister, he describes his pre-
sent condition in the most melancholy language.
" They who complain of me," says he, " remember
not my complaints, or what I have so often said of
my hard fortune, caused, as is well known, not by
an indolent or vicious life, but by all the evils
with which Heaven and earth can overwhelm the
miserable father of a family, and especially by a
most laborious and fruitless servitude of fourteen
long years, through which my house has fallen into
confusion, and I have lost the means of paying my
debts, and providing for the necessities of a large
and badly conducted family." After having men-
tioned that he scarcely could consider himself a poet,
and that he had much more important occupations
to pursue than writing verses, he continues ; " To
settle controversies, to sustain actions, to look out
for money, to treat with creditors, to make bar-
gains, to form contracts, these are the objects
which now fill my mind. My companions are im-
posing lawyers, lying procurators, perilous tribu-
nals, importunate officials, perfidious messeti, co-

350 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

vetous men, credulous persons, suspicious spirits ;
offers which come and go ; hopes to-day flourish-
ing, and to-morrow withered; necessity always
green; accounts from home always troublesome;
wants always pressing, want of money, and still
greater want of friends and fidelity. Amid all
these distresses and miseries, does your Excellency
think that I can invite the Muses to me, or that,
if I did, they would inhabit a mind so agitated as
mine ? The Muses are young, gay, happy, nor do
they willingly remain where there is trouble ; and,
therefore, poetry is very like love, which is nothing
more than a kind of thoughtless thought (pen-
siro spensieratoj, an idle business, or, as is said,
a care without mind. Thus poetry, what is it
but a sensible madness, and a distraction of the
brain, which it renders so insensible, that it often
happens that they who have brains forget they
have any, and they who have none, think they have
them in abundance. From which most grievous
misfortune I will guard myself with all my strength."
In the same strain he observes, that Augustus and
Maecenas, and other patrons of poets, bestowed
greater gifts on them than on men of science and
learning, not because they held them in higher
esteem, but because, while the latter every day

BATTISTA GUARINI. 351

increased in sense and capability of providing for
themselves, the former lost more and more of their
brains by their constant attention to dreams and
chimeras, and therefore became poor, and had
need of support, and some reward for the loss of
their senses, which they suffered by making poetry.
" But to return to myself," he continues ; " I am
now in my forty-fourth year, am the father of
eight children, two of which are able to judge of
my negligence. I have marriageable daughters ; I
have the burden of many debts ; I have no time
for idleness ; I should be a madman did I not
strive to bring into port what little I have saved
from shipwreck."*

But, notwithstanding the pleasure Guarini ap-
pears to have taken in ridiculing poets, and the
affectation of which he was certainly guilty in pre-
tending to have no ambition to be ranked among
the bards of his country, there is every reason to
believe that he was in no slight degree jealous of
those who enjoyed distinguished reputation. His
conduct in correcting Tasso's works, when the
afflicted author was prevented from attending to
their revision himself, merits the highest admira-
tion ; and, were there nothing else recorded of him

* Lettere.

352 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

deserving praise, this one circumstance in his life
would give him a claim to our commiseration in all
the disappointments and troubles of his own career.
But, though he felt and acted so generously to-
wards the unfortunate Tasso, he was not the less
jealous of his fame, and it is generally believed that
his idea of writing the " Pastor Fido" sprang from
the feeling of rivalry which was inspired by the ap-
plauses of the " Amirita."

However this may be, Guarini devoted some
part of the leisure he enjoyed at his estate, and in
Padua, where he spent the winter months, in the
composition and correction of his celebrated drama,
and found, it is probable, in this employment,
which he professed to treat with such contempt,
more satisfaction, and a better medicine for his
harassed mind, than he could ever discover in
the pursuits on which he dilates with such rhe-
torical gravity. But he was not suffered to en-
joy the pleasures of retirement, or try the effects
of literary relaxation for any length of time. Al-
fonso, knowing his talents as a man of business,
recalled him to court, after he had been absent
about three years, and made him Secretary of State.

Guarini, in missions to Umbria and Milan,
evinced the same zeal and ability in the service of

BATTISTA GUARINI. 353

his Prince as formerly; but he had scarcely re-
sumed his public avocations, when circumstances
of a private nature again put a stop to his career.
In the letter quoted above, we find him observing,
that two of his children were sufficiently old to form
a judgment respecting his conduct. It is not im-
possible that he meant it to be understood, from
this expression, that they had actually constituted
themselves his censors ; but whether this was the
case or not, his treatment of his eldest son was not
calculated to preserve either his authority or con-
duct from being questioned. The young man, it
appears, had lately married a lady named Virginia
Palmiroli ; but, owing either to his want of reve-
nues, or some other cause of a similar kind, he con-
tinued to reside with his wife in the mansion of his
father. So far, however, was Guarini from con-
tributing to render this arrangement advantageous,
that he treated his son with a haughtiness and as-
perity that rendered the condition of the latter in-
supportable. Irritated, at length, beyond endur-
ance, he left the house and determined to apply
for relief to a court of justice, which he conceived
would oblige his father to give up the property
belonging to him and his wife which in his rage he
retained. The dispute between the father and son

354 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

was accordingly brought to trial, and, to the vexa-
tion of the former, a verdict was pronounced
against him.

It is impossible to decide at this distance of
time what were the real merits of this extraor-
dinary case, but there can be no doubt that Gua-
rini acted with little regard to his dignity, when
he condescended to seize the property of his son
and daughter to satisfy his claims upon them for
expenses attending their nuptials. He, however,
conceived himself treated with the greatest in-
justice by the judge who had presided at the trial,
and who, it is said, was his personal enemy. There
was therefore, perhaps, more reason on his side
than is suspected, and we should probably be
guilty of much injustice did we condemn him on
the little information we possess on the subject.
So convinced was he himself that he had not been
treated with proper fairness, that he attributed the
decision against him in a great measure to the
secret interference of the Duke ; and under this
impression, he addressed a letter to him full of
bitter complaint and remonstrance. This unfor*
tunate affair brought back all the feelings of dis-
content which had occupied Guarini's mind on so
many previous occasions : he now considered him-

BATTISTA GUARINI. 355

self treated not merely with neglect, but with the
most flagrant ingratitude, and if he before felt that
his services, so long and faithfully persevered in,
were inadequately rewarded, he now looked upon
the Duke as guilty of inflicting on him the worst
and most unmerited injuries. Considering, there-
fore, that he had no longer any reason to waste
his strength, or employ his talents in the service
of Alfonso, he firmly requested his dismissal from
office, resolving to quit a court, without farther
delay, where for more than twenty years he had
been continually struggling against the cabals of
personal enemies, and employing the best energies
of his mind to promote the honour of a Prince
who regarded him only as a mere instrument to
effect his purposes.

Alfonso was by no means pleased at the reso-
lution of his Secretary, and even thought himself
treated with ingratitude ; but Guarini had deter-
mined upon the course he was to take, and suspect-
ing from the known disposition of the Duke* that
his liberty might be endangered if he delayed his
departure, he hastened from the city as privately as
possible, and proceeded to the Court of the Duke
of Savoy. That Prince willingly took him into his

* Sup. al Gio, vol. ii. p. 169.

356 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

service, and found him so much occupation, that
in writing to a friend, he says he was so constantly
employed, that " wanting to write a letter, he had
not time to do it." From Savoy, however, he was
obliged to retreat after a brief stay, alarmed, it is
supposed, by the machinations of Alfonso, who
was known to have a particular dislike to any of
his former ministers being in the employ of other
potentates. Padua was his next retreat, and there,
in December 1590, he had the misfortune to lose
his wife, who seems to have retained his affections
throughout the long and unsettled career he had
passed since their marriage. A new set of feelings
now took possession of his mind. Hitherto he had
seen no other means of escaping from the persecu-
tions of fortune, but by seeking shelter in Padua or
La Guarina ; but now he might flee for protection
to the Church, and his wife was scarcely buried
when he resolved to hasten to Rome, and assume
the ecclesiastical habit. How admirably does a
passage in one of his letters show the state of his
mind, when breaking from the load of its grief, it
caught, with the eagerness of childhood, at the
first novelty that rose in his thoughts. " This is
so sudden a change and transformation of my life,"
says he, " that I am induced to believe it has not

BATTISTA GUARINI. 357

occurred, as indeed nothing can, without the inter-
vention of God, who thus summons me to another
vocation." The idea, however, of taking orders
vanished with the return of his good spirits, and
he allowed all thoughts of the kind to be dissipated
by an invitation sent him from the Duke of Man-
tua, to accept an appointment in the Archducal
Court at Inspruch. But Alfonso, though five years
had now passed since their dispute, had not for-
gotten his resentful feelings, and Guarini again
contemplated a flight to Rome, whither he pro-
ceeded, but not, as it appears, with any present
idea of entering the Church.

During all the time that the unfortunate father
was thus wandering from court to court, his son
Alexander enjoyed the protection of Alfonso, and
was rising rapidly in rank and influence. Trusting
to his favourable situation, and retaining no anger
towards his parent, the young man ventured to be-
seech Alfonso that he would allow his father to settle
himself peaceably in the service of some prince ; but
the Duke haughtily denied the request, and after-
wards said to the Duchess of Urbino that the son
imitated the father, and cared little for his favour.
Alessandro, however, was not to be thus hastily
repulsed, and repeating his application, he sue-

358 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

ceeded in obtaining both his own and his father's
restoration to the Duke's good opinion. The let-
ters which Guarini wrote to Alessandro while this
affair was pending, breathe doubt and suspicion in
every line, and he cautions his son against snares
and spies with all the anxiety of a man who had
lived the best part of his days among enemies,
and who knew that whoever pursued the same
kind of life must encounter an equal number.

Guarini returned to Ferrara with great satis-
faction, but old sources of family dispute were
again laid open, and Alessandro had to regret that
the efforts he had made to obtain his return were
only productive of bitter contentions. The return
of our poet took place in 1595, and the Duke died
in 1597 ; between those periods no event occurred
worth recording, but in May 1598, his daughter
Anna fell a victim to the jealousy of her husband,
and her murder, and the neglect he suffered at
Ferrara, induced him to proceed to Florence, where
he was honourably received by the Grand-duke Fer-
dinand. For some time every thing remained to the
poet's satisfaction, but unfortunately his youngest
son Guarino, whom he had sent to Pisa to complete
his education, formed a connexion with a lady of
the place, who was young and beautiful, but poor

BATTISTA GUARINI. 359

and a widow. To increase the evil, the time they
fixed for their nuptials was when Ferdinand and
Guarini were spending some days in Pisa ; and
the latter was no sooner made acquainted with
the event, than, unable to control his anger, he
charged the Duke with having encouraged his
son to marry against his will, and immediately left
his service. Nor did his anger cease with its first
explosion. His son, it appears, was quickly re-
duced to a very necessitous condition, and when
his brother used all his influence to obtain him
some assistance, the enraged father replied that
he was not bound to support his son's wife ; that
as he had chosen to take her, he might look to
her poverty, and that he would be too happy did
he receive any good when he had done nothing
but evil. A resentment still more implacable ap-
pears in his answer to the letter in which Ales-
sandro informed him of the death of his brother
Girolamo, who had also married badly, and gave
an account of the measures he had pursued to
insure him a becoming burial. " You acted per-
fectly right," replied Guarini, " in that which
respects the soul of the deceased, but I cannot
praise you for what you have done for his remains.
Such honours become the worthy only, and he was

360 LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

the enemy of his father, and dishonoured his fa-
mily. This is not right in the sight of Heaven.
As he did not think that I, his father, merited
obedience, I do not think that he ought to have
honour from me ; Justice would have changed her
nature, did the base receive the respect due only
to the good."

On leaving Florence, Guarini hastened to Ur-
bino, which he left dissatisfied, and then returned
to Ferrara. He was then sent by the citizens as
their representative to the Roman Pontiff. The
reception, however, which he met with on this
occasion, though flattering, perhaps, in some re-
spects, was not without its annoyances in others.
The fame of his Pastor Fido was spread far and
near, and there were few persons who had not
read or heard it recited. Supposing, therefore,
that its scenes really contained any thing highly
prejudicial to public morals, the author might na-
turally look for a reproof from grave, virtuous, and
austere-minded churchmen ; but too many in-
stances existed of the most charitable forbear-
ance in matters of this sort on the part of the
Church, to suffer any fears to arise in Guarini's
mind respecting his poem, and it was, therefore,
with no little surprise that he heard the Cardinal

BA.TTISTA GUARINI. 361

Bentivoglio declare that his pestilent work had done
more mischief in the world than Luther and all the
impious heretics put together.

Nothing is known respecting his life after this
journey to Rome, which took place in 1605, except
that he returned toFerrara, and again and again
quarrelled with Alessandro, but was as often recon-
ciled to him, acceding in some degree to his inter-
cessions in favour of his brother, who, it may be as
well to mention here, lost his wife not long after
the death of his father, and repaired, it is said, the
fault of his youth by marrying Julia Ariosto, a
lady in every way worthy of being allied with the
Guarini. It; appears, however, that the poet was
engaged to the last day of his life in law-suits,
mention being made of another journey to Rome
undertaken on this account, and of more than one
for the same purpose to Venice, in which city he
died in the month of October 16] 2.

Both the good and the evil qualities of Guarini's
heart are so strikingly displayed in the events of
his life, that little skill is required to draw the
outline of his character. He was proud and am-
bitious, but his attachment to his master converted
his pride and ambition into supports of his loyalty.
The warmth of affection which he manifested for

VOL. II. R

362' LIVES OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

his wife, and his anxiety respecting the welfare of
his children, afford proofs that he was not desti-
tute of domestic virtues; but the violence of his
resentments, his slavish pursuit of promotion, and
his ill conduct for a long time to the unfortunate
Tasso, prevent our regarding his name with that
feeling of personal affection which attaches to the
recollection of many other poets.

The Pastor Fido, on which the present literary
reputation of Guarini solely rests, has enjoyed
from its first appearance an extraordinary degree
of applause. Its fable is more complicated than
that of most pastoral dramas ; many of its scenes
affect us with stronger feelings than are awakened
by other compositions of the kind ; and the spirit
and pathos of the dialogue are frequently varied
by the most sparkling descriptions. But, not-
withstanding these merits, it fails in that exqui-
site spirit of pure poetry which breathes in the
Aminta, forcing upon us the feeling that the
author was a man who had other thoughts and
cares than he who was only a poet. Guarini has
been deservedly censured for the licentious tone
of some of his verses, and Apostolo Zeno has not
been sparing in his reproofs.* In the lifetime of

* Galleria di Minerva.

BATTISTA GUARINI. 363

the author, the Pastor Fido had many critics, and
to the objections of the principal one, Doctor Boni-
facio, Guarini returned a formal defence. In one
part of this apology, he says of his drama, " Is it
not a spectacle for great princes and for queens ?
Is it not represented in all the chief cities of Italy ?
Has it not been printed twenty-eight times in Ve-
nice alone, though it has not been written more
than twenty years? Has it not been translated
into five foreign languages?" This statement of
Guarini has been confirmed by other writers, who
say, that before his death it had been printed forty
times, and was translated into the languages of In-
dia and Persia.

END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

LONDON :
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PQ Stebbing, Henry

4057 Lives of the Italian

38 poets

1831

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