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Title: The Book of the Courtier
Author: Opdycke, Leonard Eckstein, Castiglione, Baldesar
Language: English
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COURTIER ***
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Transcriber’s Note:
This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_. Supercripted
characters are prefixed with ‘^’.
The notes were printed as endnotes organized by chapters.
Minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected. Please
see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details regarding
the handling of any textual issues encountered during its preparation.
THE BOOK OF THE COURTIER
BY COUNT BALDESAR
CASTIGLIONE
[Illustration:
BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE
COUNT OF NOVILLARA
1478-1529
]
Reduced from Braun’s photograph (no. 11.505) of the portrait in the
Louvre, painted in 1516 by Raphael (1483-1520). The original
belonged to Charles I of England, after whose death it was bought by
a Dutch collector and copied by Rubens. Later it became the property
of Cardinal Mazarin, from whose heirs it was acquired for Louis XIV
of France.
The medallion on the title-page is from a photograph, specially made by
Mansell, of a cast, kindly furnished by T. Whitcombe Greene, Esq.,
of an anonymous medal in his collection at Chandler’s Ford,
Hampshire. See the late Alfred Armand’s _Les Médailleurs Italiens_,
ii, 100, no. 10.
THE BOOK OF THE COURTIER
BY COUNT BALDESAR
CASTIGLIONE
(1528)
[Illustration]
TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN AND ANNOTATED
BY LEONARD ECKSTEIN OPDYCKE
WITH SEVENTY-ONE PORTRAITS AND FIFTEEN AUTOGRAPHS
LONDON
DUCKWORTH & CO.
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
1902
[Illustration: THE DE VINNE PRESS]
Copyright 1901, by
LEONARD ECKSTEIN OPDYCKE
THE BOOK OF THE COURTIER was written, partly at Urbino and partly at
Rome, between the years 1508 and 1516, and was first printed at the
Aldine Press, Venice, in the month of April, 1528.
There have since been published more than one hundred and forty
editions, a list of which will be found at page 417 of this volume.
The first Spanish version, by JUAN BOSCAN ALMOGAVER, was issued at
Barcelona in 1534; the first French version, by JACQUES COLIN, was
issued at Paris in 1537; the first English version, by THOMAS HOBY,
was issued at London in 1561; the first Latin version, by HIERONYMUS
TURLER, was issued at Wittenberg in 1561; the first German version,
by LORENZ KRATZER, was issued at Munich in 1566.
The present edition consists of five hundred numbered copies, of
which this is No.
TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE
The popularity long enjoyed by this old book, the place that it holds in
Italian literature, and the fact that it is almost inaccessible to
English readers, seem to furnish sufficient reason for a new
translation.
The art of the Italian Renaissance delights us by its delicate and
gentle beauty, and yet we know that life during this period was often
gross and violent. To understand this, we must remember that art is more
the expression of the ideal than of the actual, and that men’s ideals
are loftier than their practice. Castiglione gives utterance to the
finest aspirations of his time. His pages will lack interest only when
mankind ceases to be interesting to man, and will reward study so long
as the past shall continue to instruct the present and the future.
The few deviations that the present translator has ventured to make from
the letter of the Italian text are merely verbal, and were deemed
needful to render its meaning clear. The notes that he offers are
intended to explain obscure passages and to relieve the reader from the
tedium of searching in books of reference. Perhaps no one will regard it
as inopportune to be reminded of what all may have known but few are
able to remember with precision. Students who may wish to learn from
what Greek and Latin sources Castiglione derived material are referred
to Professor Vittorio Cian’s admirable edition.
The translator desires to express his thanks for the friendly
encouragement that he has received from Miss Grace Norton, at whose
suggestion his task was undertaken. He is indebted to Dr. Luigi Roversi
and Signor Leopoldo Jung for their patient aid, and to Signor Alessandro
Luzio and many other scholars, in Italy and elsewhere, for the kindness
with which they have helped him to gather portraits and bibliographical
data. He gratefully acknowledges, also, his frequent use of Professor
Cian’s erudite labours, of John Addington Symonds’s RENAISSANCE IN
ITALY, and of James Dennistoun’s MEMOIRS OF THE DUKES OF URBINO.
CONTENTS
(The Arabic numerals given below refer to the numbered paragraphs
into which it has long been customary to divide the work)
Page
LIST OF PLATES xi
INTERLOCUTORS xiv
THE AUTHOR’S DEDICATORY LETTER 1
Reasons for writing the book, and for at first delaying and
afterwards hastening its publication. Lament at the recent
death of several persons mentioned in the book. Answer to three
objections: that the book was not written in the language of
Boccaccio; that, as it is impossible to find a perfect
Courtier, it was superfluous to describe one; and that the
author presumed to paint his own portrait.
THE FIRST BOOK OF THE COURTIER 7
1: The book written at the instance of Alfonso Ariosto and in
dialogue form, in order to record certain discussions held at
the court of Urbino. 2-3: Description and praise of Urbino and
its lords; Duke Federico and his son Guidobaldo. 4-5: The
Urbino court and the persons taking part in the discussions. 6:
Circumstances that led to the discussions; visit of Pope Julius
II. 7-11: Various games proposed. 12: Game finally chosen: to
describe a perfect Courtier. 13-6: Canossa begins the
discussion by enumerating some of the conditions essential to
the Courtier,—especially gentle birth. 17-8: Arms the true
profession of the Courtier, who must, however, avoid arrogance
and boasting. 19-22: Physical qualities and martial exercises.
23: Short bantering digression. 24-6: Grace. 27-8: Affectation.
29-39: Literary and conversational style. 40: Women’s
affectations. 41: Moral qualities. 42-6: Literary
accomplishments; arms vs. letters. 47-8: Music. 49: Painting.
50-3: Painting vs. sculpture. 54-6: Arrival of the youthful
Francesco Maria della Rovere; the evening’s entertainment ends
with dancing.
THE SECOND BOOK OF THE COURTIER 75
1-4: Reasons why the aged are wont to laud the past and to
decry the present; defence of the present against such
aspersions; praise of the court of Urbino. 5-6 Federico Fregoso
begins the discussion on the way and time of employing the
qualities and accomplishments described by Canossa: utility of
such discussion. 7-8: General rules: to avoid affectation, to
speak and act discreetly and opportunely, to aim at honour and
praise in martial exercises, war, and public contests, 9-10:
Other physical exercises. 11: Dancing and masquerading. 12-3:
Music of various kinds, when to be practised. 14: Aged
Courtiers not to engage publicly in music and dancing. 15-6:
Duty of aged and youthful Courtiers to moderate the faults
peculiar to their years. 17-25: Conversation, especially with
superiors; how to win favours worthily. 26-8: Dress and
ornament; lamentable lack of fashions peculiarly Italian.
29-30: Choice and treatment of friends. 31: Games of cards and
chess. 32-5: Influence of preconceived opinions and first
impressions; advantage of being preceded by good reputation.
36: Danger of going beyond bounds in the effort to be amusing.
37: French and Spanish manners. 38: Tact, modesty, kindness,
readiness; taking advantage of opportunities; confession of
ignorance. 39-41: Self-depreciation, deceit, moderation. 42-83:
Pleasantries and witticisms expounded by Bibbiena. 84-97:
Practical jokes; to be used discreetly, particularly where
women are concerned; use of trickery and artifice in love;
dignity and nobility of women. 98-100: Giuliano de’Medici
chosen to describe the perfect Court Lady.
THE THIRD BOOK OF THE COURTIER 171
1: Excellence of the court of Urbino to be estimated in much
the same way in which Pythagoras calculated the stature of
Hercules. 2-3: Bantering preliminaries to the discussion on the
Court Lady. 4: Qualities common to the Courtier and to the
Court Lady. 5-6: The Court Lady to be affable, modest and
decorous; to follow a middle course between prudishness and
over-freedom; to avoid scandal-mongering; her conversation to
have variety. 7-9: Physical and mental exercises of the Court
Lady; her dress. 10-8: Women’s importance; certain aspersions
refuted. 19-20: Examples of saintly women contrasted with
hypocritical friars. 21-7: Examples of women famous for virtue,
manly courage, constancy in love, pudicity. 28-33: Examples of
women who in ancient times did good service to the world in
letters, in the sciences, in public life, in war. 34-6: More
recent examples of women noted for their virtue. 37-49:
Chastity and continence. 50: Dangers to which womanly virtue is
exposed. 51-2: Further praise of women. 53-5: The Court Lady’s
demeanour in love talk. 56-9: Her conduct in love. 60-73: The
way to win and keep a woman’s love; its effects and signs;
secrecy in love. 74-5: Pallavicino’s aspersions against women.
76-7: Ottaviano Fregoso is deputed to expound the other
qualities that add to the Courtier’s perfections.
THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE COURTIER 243
1-2: Eulogy of several other interlocutors whose death had
recently occurred. 3-6: Ottaviano Fregoso resumes the
interrupted discussion, considers the Courtier’s relations with
his prince, and urges the duty of employing his qualities and
accomplishments so that his prince may be led to seek good and
shun evil. 7-10: Princes’ need to know the truth, their
difficulty in finding it, and the Courtier’s duty to encourage
them in the path of virtue. 11-2: Virtue not wholly innate, but
susceptible of cultivation. 13-6: Ignorance the source of
nearly all human errour. 17-8: Temperance the perfect virtue,
because it is the fountain of virtues. 19-24: Monarchy vs.
commonwealth. 25-6: Whether a contemplative or an active life
is more befitting a prince. 27-8: Peace the aim of war; the
virtues befitting each. 29: Right training of princes to begin
in habit and to be confirmed by reason. 30: Humourous
digression. 31: _Governo misto_. 32-5: Attributes of a good
prince: justice, devoutness, love of his subjects, and mild
sway. 36-9: Grand public works; the Crusades; eulogy of several
young princes. 40: Princes must avoid certain extremes. 41:
Princes must attend to details personally. 42: Eulogy of the
youthful Federico Gonzaga. 43-8: Arguments supporting the
theory that the Courtier’s highest aim is the instruction of
his prince. 49-52: Whether the Courtier ought to be in love;
Bembo appointed to discourse on love and beauty. 53-4: Evils
and perils of sensual love. 55-6: Digression concerning the
love of old men. 57-60: True beauty, the reflection of
goodness. 61-4: In what manner the unyouthful Courtier ought to
love; rational love contrasted with sensual love. 65-7:
Contemplation of abstract beauty. 68-9: Contemplation of divine
beauty. 70-1: Bembo’s invocation to the Holy Spirit. 72:
Instances in which a vision of divine beauty has been granted
to mortals. 73: Termination of the discussion at dawn.
PRELIMINARY NOTES,—Life of the Author, etc. 313
NOTES TO THE DEDICATORY LETTER 317
NOTES TO THE FIRST BOOK OF THE COURTIER 325
NOTES TO THE SECOND BOOK OF THE COURTIER 355
NOTES TO THE THIRD BOOK OF THE COURTIER 387
NOTES TO THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE COURTIER 407
LIST OF EDITIONS OF THE BOOK OF THE COURTIER 417
INDEX 423
LIST OF PLATES
1 BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE, Count of Novillara; Raphael; Frontispiece
2 BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE; anonymous medal; Title-page
Facing page
3 FRANCESCO MARIA DELLA ROVERE, Duke of Urbino; 1
Titian;
4 GUIDOBALDO DI MONTEFELTRO, Duke of Urbino; 9
Giovanni Santi (?);
5 EMILIA PIA; medal by Giancristoforo Romano (?); 11
6 ELISABETTA GONZAGA, Duchess of Urbino; Mantegna 12
(?);
7 BERNARDO ACCOLTI, the “Unico Aretino;” Vasari; 16
8 COUNT LUDOVICO DA CANOSSA; anonymous; 20
9 CARDINAL IPPOLITO D’ESTE; anonymous medal; 22
10 GALEAZZO SANSEVERINO; anonymous; 34
11 ANGELO AMBROGINI, “Poliziano;” Ghirlandajo; 51
12 MONSEIGNEUR D’ANGOULÊME, Francis I of France; 57
anonymous medal;
13 MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI; Daniele da Volterra (?); 67
14 BORSO D’ESTE, Duke of Ferrara; Francesco Cossa; 77
15 AUTOGRAPHS; 89
16 AUTOGRAPHS; 96
17 GIACOPO SANNAZARO; Vasari; 113
18 LEONARDO DA VINCI; autograph drawing; 117
19 BERNARDO DOVIZI DA BIBBIENA; Raphael (?); 123
20 POPE ALEXANDER VI; Pinturicchio; 126
21 ERCOLE D’ESTE, Duke of Ferrara; anonymous relief; 129
22 GALEOTTO MARZI DA NARNI; anonymous medal; 136
23 TOMMASO INGHIRAMI, “Fedra;” Raphael (?); 138
24 PRINCE DJEM; Pinturicchio; 141
25 AGOSTINO BEVAZZANO; Raphael; 144
26 OTTAVIANO UBALDINI; Melozzo da Forli; 147
27 RAPHAEL; Sebastiano del Piombo; 149
28 FRANCESCO ALIDOSI, Cardinal of Pavia; anonymous 151
relief;
29 POPE LEO X; Raphael; 152
30 AUTOGRAPHS; 169
31 GIULIANO DE’ MEDICI, “My lord Magnifico;” 175
Alessandro Allori;
32 ISABELLA THE CATHOLIC; Miguel Zittoz (?); 203
33 ISABELLA D’ESTE, Marchioness of Mantua; Titian; 204
34 LUDOVICO GONZAGA, Bishop of Mantua; Mantegna; 215
35 FERDINAND THE CATHOLIC; Miguel Zittoz (?); 219
36 ELEANORA GONZAGA, Duchess of Urbino; Titian; 244
37 POPE JULIUS II; Raphael; 274
38 PRINCE HENRY OF WALES, Henry VIII; anonymous; 276
39 FEDERICO GONZAGA, Marquess and Duke of Mantua; 279
anonymous medal;
40 CARDINAL PIETRO BEMBO; medal by Benvenuto Cellini 288
(?);
41 BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE, Count of Novillara; 313
anonymous;
42 CASTIGLIONE’S TOMB, near Mantua; Giulio Romano; 314
43 VITTORIA COLONNA, Marchioness of Pescara; 320
anonymous medal;
44 FEDERICO GONZAGA, Marquess of Mantua; Mantegna; 322
45 FEDERICO DI MONTEFELTRO, Duke of Urbino; Mino da 325
Fiesole (?);
46 ALFONSO II OF NAPLES; medal by Guazzalotti; 327
47 FERDINAND II OF NAPLES; anonymous bronze bust; 328
48 GIACOMO SADOLETO; Vasari; 331
49 LOUIS XII OF FRANCE; anonymous pen-drawing; 332
50 MATTHIAS CORVINUS OF HUNGARY; anonymous medal; 336
51 ANDREA MANTEGNA; anonymous bronze relief; 341
52 LORENZO DE’ MEDICI, “the Magnificent;” medal by 345
Pollaiuolo;
53 BEATRICE D’ESTE, Duchess of Milan; Piero della 352
Francesca (?);
54 FILIPPO MARIA VISCONTI, Duke of Milan; Pisanello; 355
55 NICCOLÒ PICCININO; Pisanello; 356
56 MAXIMILIAN I OF GERMANY; Ambrogio da Predis; 359
57 CHARLES VIII OF FRANCE; anonymous bust; 360
58 POPE NICHOLAS V; medal by Guazzalotti; 362
59 GIROLAMO DONATO; anonymous relief; 365
60 GIOVANNI CALFURNIO; anonymous relief; 366
61 CONSALVO DE CORDOBA, “the Great Captain;” medal by 368
Annibal;
62 COSIMO DE’ MEDICI, “Pater Patriæ;” medal by 370
Niccolò Fiorentino;
63 BAJAZET II OF TURKEY; anonymous print; 372
64 ALFONSO I OF NAPLES; Pisanello; 375
65 CESARE BORGIA, Duke of Valentinois; Beccaruzzi 377
(?);
66 LUDOVICO SFORZA, Duke of Milan; Cristoforo Solari; 381
67 ANNE OF BRITTANY; medal by Jean Perreal; 393
68 MARGARITA OF AUSTRIA; anonymous; 395
69 BEATRICE OF ARAGON, Queen of Hungary; anonymous 397
bust;
70 ISABELLA OF ARAGON, Duchess of Milan; medal by 398
Giancristoforo Romano;
71 FEDERICO III OF NAPLES; anonymous medal; 400
72 ELEANORA OF ARAGON, Duchess of Ferrara; anonymous 402
relief;
73 GIANFRANCESCO GONZAGA, Marquess of Mantua; 409
Francesco Bonsignori (?);
74 HENRY VII OF ENGLAND; anonymous; 412
75 DON CARLOS, Prince of Spain; Bernhard Strigel (?); 414
76 REVERSE OF MEDAL ON TITLE-PAGE; End piece
INTERLOCUTORS
ELISABETTA GONZAGA, wife of Guidobaldo di Montefeltro, Duke of Urbino.
Aged 46.
EMILIA PIA, friend and companion of the Duchess, and widow of the
Duke’s half-brother. Aged about 30.
MARGARITA GONZAGA, young niece and companion of the Duchess.
COSTANZA FREGOSA, young half-niece of the Duke.
FRANCESCO MARIA DELLA ROVERE, nephew and adopted heir of the Duke. Aged
17.
Count LUDOVICO DA CANOSSA, a kinsman of the author, afterwards made
Bishop of Bayeux. aged 31.
FEDERICO FREGOSO, half-nephew of the Duke, afterwards made a cardinal.
Aged 27.
GIULIANO DE’ MEDICI, an exile from Florence, known at Urbino as “My
lord Magnifico,” and afterwards made Duke of Nemours. Aged 29.
BERNARDO DOVIZI, better known as BIBBIENA, an adherent of the Medici,
afterwards made a cardinal. Aged 37.
OTTAVIANO FREGOSO, elder brother of Costanza and Federico, afterwards
Doge of Genoa.
PIETRO BEMBO, a Venetian scholar and poet, afterwards made a cardinal.
Aged 37.
CESARE GONZAGA, a kinsman of the Duchess, and cousin as well as close
friend of the author. Aged about 32.
BERNARDO ACCOLTI, better known as the UNICO ARETINO, a courtier-poet
and popular extemporizer. Aged about 42.
Count GASPAR PALLAVICINO. Aged 21.
GIANCRISTOFORO ROMANO, a sculptor, medallist, etc. Aged about 42.
COLLO VINCENZO CALMETA, a courtier-poet.
LUDOVICO PIO, a brave young soldier, and kinsman of Emilia Pia.
SIGISMONDO MORELLO DA ORTONA, an elderly courtier.
Fra SERAFINO, a jester.
Time: March 1507.
Place: The Palace of Urbino.
[Illustration:
FRANCESCO MARIA DELLA ROVERE.
DUKE OF URBINO
1490-1538
]
Reduced from Braun’s photograph (no. 40.605) of the portrait, in the
Uffizi Gallery at Florence, by Titian (1477-1576).
TO THE REVEREND AND ILLUSTRIOUS
LORD DOM MIGUEL DE SILVA,[1]
BISHOP OF VISEU
1.—When my lord Guidobaldo di Montefeltro,[2] Duke of Urbino, passed
from this life, I, together with several other cavaliers who had served
him, remained in the service of Duke Francesco Maria della Rovere,[3]
his heir and successor in the State. And as the recollection of Duke
Guido’s character was fresh in my mind, and the delight I had during
those years in the kind companionship of the notable persons who at that
time frequented the Court of Urbino, I was moved by their memory to
write these books of the Courtier, which I did in a few days,[4]
purposing in time to correct those errours that arose from the wish to
pay this debt speedily. But for many years past fortune has burdened me
with toil so constant that I never could find leisure to make the book
such as would content even my poor judgment.
Now being in Spain,[5] and learning from Italy that my lady Vittoria
della Colonna, Marchioness of Pescara,[6] to whom I gave a copy of the
book, had against her word caused a large part of it to be transcribed,
I could not but feel some annoyance, fearing the many inconveniences
that may befall in such cases. Still, I relied upon the wit and good
sense of this lady (whose character I have always held in veneration as
a thing divine) to prevent any mischief coming to me from having obeyed
her wishes. Finally I was informed that this part of the book was in the
hands of many people at Naples; and as men are always eager for anything
new, it seemed likely that someone might try to have it printed.[7]
Alarmed at this peril, then, I resolved to revise the book at once so
far as I had time, with intent to publish it; for I thought better to
let it be seen imperfectly corrected by my own hand than grievously
mutilated by the hand of others.
And so, to carry out this plan, I began to read the book again; and
touched at the very outset by the title, I was saddened not a little,
and far more so as I went on, by the thought that most of the personages
introduced in the discussion were already dead; for besides those
mentioned in the proem of the last Book, messer Alfonso Ariosto[8] (to
whom the work is dedicated) is also dead, a gracious youth, considerate,
of the highest breeding, and apt in everything proper to a man who lives
at court. Likewise Duke Giuliano de’ Medici,[9] whose kindness and noble
courtesy deserved to be enjoyed longer by the world. Messer
Bernardo,[10] Cardinal of Santa Maria in Portico, who for his keen and
playful readiness of wit was most delightful to all that knew him, he,
too, is dead. Dead also is my lord Ottaviano Fregoso,[11] a man very
rare in our times: magnanimous, devout, full of kindness, talent, good
sense, and courtesy, a true lover of honour and merit, and so worthy of
praise that his very enemies were ever forced to praise him; and the
misadventures that he bore so bravely were enough to prove that fortune
is still, as always, adverse to merit. And of those mentioned in my book
many more besides are dead, to whom nature seemed to promise very long
life.
But what should not be told without tears is that my lady Duchess,[12]
too, is dead. And if my heart mourns the loss of so many friends and
patrons, who have left me in this life as in a solitude full of sorrows,
it is meet that I grieve more bitterly for the death of my lady Duchess
than of all the others; for she was more precious than they, and I more
bound to her than to all the others. Not to delay, then, the tribute
that I owe the memory of so excellent a Lady and of the others who are
no more, and moved also by the danger to my book, I have had it printed
and published in such state as the shortness of time permitted.
And since you had no knowledge in their lifetime either of my lady
Duchess or of the others who are dead (except Duke Giuliano and the
Cardinal of Santa Maria in Portico), in order to give you that knowledge
after their death as far as I can, I send you this book as a picture of
the Court of Urbino, not by the hand of Raphael[98] or Michelangelo,[99]
but of a humble painter, who knows only how to trace the chief lines,
and cannot adorn truth with bright colouring, or by perspective art make
that which is not seem to be. And although I tried to show forth in
their discourse the qualities and character of my personages, I own I
failed to express or even to suggest the excellences of my lady Duchess,
not only because my style is inadequate to describe them, but because my
intelligence fails even to conceive of them;[13] and if I be censured
for this or any other matter worthy of censure (for I well know that my
book contains many such), I shall not gainsay the truth.
2.—But as men sometimes so delight in finding fault that they reprehend
even that which does not merit reprehension, to such as blame me because
I did not imitate Boccaccio[14] or conform to the usages of present
Tuscan speech, I shall not refrain from saying that while, for his time,
Boccaccio had a charming faculty and often wrote with care and
diligence, yet he wrote far better when he followed only the guidance of
his natural wit and instinct, without further thought or care to polish
his writings, than when he strove industriously and laboriously to be
more refined and correct. For this reason even his followers declare
that he greatly erred in judgment concerning his own works, holding
cheap what did him honour[15] and prizing what was worthless. Therefore,
if I had imitated that manner of writing which in Boccaccio is censured
by those who elsewise praise him, I should not have been able to escape
those same aspersions that were cast on him in this regard; and I should
have more deserved them, because he committed his faults thinking he was
doing well, while I should have known I was doing ill. Again, if I had
imitated the style now admired by many but less esteemed by him, it
seemed to me that by such imitation I should show myself at variance
with him whom I was imitating, a thing I deemed unseemly. And again, if
this consideration had not moved me, I was not able to imitate him in my
subject-matter, for he never wrote anything at all in the manner of
these books of the Courtier; and I thought I ought not to imitate him in
language, because the power and true law of good speech consist rather
in usage than in aught else, and it is always a bad habit to employ
words not in use. Therefore it was not meet for me to borrow many of
Boccaccio’s words that were used in his day, but are not now used even
by the Tuscans themselves.
Nor was I willing to limit myself to the Tuscan usage of to-day, because
intercourse between different nations has always had the effect to
transport, as it were like merchandise, new forms of speech from one to
the other; and these endure or fail according as custom accepts or
rejects them. Besides being attested by the ancients, this is clearly
seen in Boccaccio, who used so many French, Spanish, and Provençal words
(some of them perhaps not very intelligible to modern Tuscans) that if
they were all omitted his work would be far shorter.
And since, in my opinion, we ought not to despise the idiom of the other
noble cities of Italy, whither men resort who are wise, witty, and
eloquent, wont to discourse on weighty matters of statecraft, letters,
war, and commerce, I think that, of the words used in the speech of
these places, I could fitly use in writing such as are graceful in
themselves, elegant to pronounce, and commonly deemed good and
expressive, although they might not be Tuscan or even of Italian origin.
Moreover, in Tuscany, many words are used which are plainly corruptions
of the Latin, but which in Lombardy and other parts of Italy have
remained pure and unchanged, and are so generally employed by everyone
that they are accepted by the gentle and easily understood by the
vulgar. Hence I think I did not err if in writing I used some of these
words, or preferred what is whole and true speech of my own country
rather than what is corrupt and mutilated from abroad.
Neither do I regard as sound the maxim laid down by many, that our
common speech is the more beautiful the less it is like Latin; nor do I
understand why one fashion of speech should be accorded so much greater
authority than another, that, if the Tuscan tongue can ennoble debased
and mutilated Latin words and lend them such grace that, mutilated as
they are, they may be used by anyone without reproach (which is not
denied), the Lombard or any other tongue may not support these same
Latin words, pure, whole, precise, and quite unchanged, so that they be
tolerable. And truly, just as to undertake, in spite of usage, to coin
new words or to preserve old ones may be called bold presumption, so
also, besides being difficult, it seems almost impious to undertake,
against the force of that same usage, to suppress and bury alive, as it
were, words that have already endured for many centuries, protected by
the shield of custom against the envy of time, and have maintained their
dignity and splendour through the changes in language, in buildings, in
habits and in customs, wrought by the wars and disasters of Italy.
Hence if in writing I have chosen not to use those words of Boccaccio
that are no longer used in Tuscany, nor to conform to the rule of those
who deem it not permissible to use any words that the Tuscans of to-day
do not use, I seem to myself excusable. And I think that both in the
matter and in the language of my book (so far as one language can aid
another), I have followed authors as worthy of praise as is Boccaccio.
Nor do I believe that it ought to be counted against me as a fault that
I have elected to make myself known rather as a Lombard speaking
Lombard, than as a non-Tuscan speaking Tuscan too precisely, in order
that I might not resemble Theophrastus, who was detected as non-Athenian
by a simple old woman, because he spoke the Athenian dialect with excess
of care.[16]
But as this subject is sufficiently treated of in my first Book,[17] I
shall say no more, except that, to prevent all possible discussion, I
grant my critics that I do not know this Tuscan dialect of theirs, which
is so difficult and recondite. And I declare that I have written in my
own dialect, just as I speak and for those who speak as I do; and in
this I think I have wronged no man, because it seems to me that no one
is forbidden to write and speak in his own language; nor is anyone bound
to read or listen to what does not please him. Therefore if these folk
do not care to read my Courtier, I shall not hold myself in the least
wronged by them.
3.—Others say that since it is so very hard and well nigh impossible to
find a man as perfect as I wish the Courtier to be, it was superfluous
to write of him, because it is folly to teach what cannot be learned. To
these I make answer that I am content to have erred in company with
Plato, Xenophon and Marcus Tullius, leaving on one side all discussion
about the Intelligible World and Ideals; among which, just as are
included (according to those authors) the ideal of the perfect State, of
the perfect King and of the perfect Orator,[18] so also is the ideal of
the perfect Courtier. And if in my style I have failed to approach the
image of this ideal, it will be so much the easier for courtiers to
approach in deeds the aim and goal that I have set them by my writing;
and even if they fail to attain the perfection, such as it is, that I
have tried to express, he that approaches nearest to it will be the most
perfect; just as when many archers shoot at a target and none hit the
very mark, surely he that comes nearest to it is better than the rest.
Still others say that I thought to paint my own portrait, as if I were
convinced that I possessed all the qualities that I attribute to the
Courtier.[19] To these I shall not indeed deny having essayed everything
that I should wish the Courtier to know; and I think that a man, however
learned, who did not know something of the matters treated of in the
book, could not well have written of them; but I am not so lacking in
self-discernment as to fancy that I know everything I have the wit to
desire.
My defence then against these and perhaps many other accusations, I
leave for the present to the verdict of public opinion; for while the
many may not perfectly understand, yet oftener than not they scent by
natural instinct the savour of good and bad, and without being able to
explain why, they relish one thing and like it, and reject another and
hate it. Therefore if my book wins general favour, I shall think it must
be good and ought to live;[20] but if it fails to please, I shall think
it must be bad and soon to be forgot. And if my censors be not satisfied
with the common verdict of opinion, let them rest content with that of
time, which in the end reveals the hidden defects of everything, and
being father of truth and judge without passion, ever passes on men’s
writings just sentence of life or death.
BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE.
THE FIRST BOOK OF THE COURTIER
BY COUNT BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE
TO MESSER ALFONSO ARIOSTO
1.—Within myself I have long doubted, dearest messer Alfonso, which of
two things were the harder for me: to deny you what you have often
begged of me so urgently, or to do it. For while it seemed to me very
hard to deny anything (and especially a thing in the highest degree
laudable) to one whom I love most dearly and by whom I feel myself to be
most dearly loved, yet to set about an enterprise that I was not sure of
being able to finish, seemed to me ill befitting a man who esteems just
censure as it ought to be esteemed. At last, after much thought, I am
resolved to try in this matter how much aid my assiduity may gain from
that affection and intense desire to please, which in other things are
so wont to stimulate the industry of man.
You ask me then to write what is to my thinking the form of
Courtiership[21] most befitting a gentleman who lives at the court of
princes, by which he may have the ability and knowledge perfectly to
serve them in every reasonable thing, winning from them favour, and
praise from other men; in short, what manner of man he ought to be who
may deserve to be called a perfect Courtier without flaw. Wherefore,
considering your request, I say that had it not seemed to me more
blameworthy to be reputed somewhat unamiable by you than too conceited
by everyone else, I should have avoided this task, for fear of being
held over bold by all who know how hard a thing it is, from among such a
variety of customs as are in use at the courts of Christendom, to choose
the perfect form and as it were the flower of Courtiership. For custom
often makes the same thing pleasing and displeasing to us; whence it
sometimes follows that customs, habits, ceremonies and fashions that
once were prized, become vulgar, and contrariwise the vulgar become
prized. Thus it is clearly seen that use rather than reason has power to
introduce new things among us, and to do away with the old; and he will
often err who seeks to determine which are perfect. Therefore being
conscious of this and many other difficulties in the subject set before
me to write of, I am constrained to offer some apology, and to testify
that this errour (if errour it may indeed be called) is common to us
both, to the end that if I be blamed for it, the blame maybe shared by
you also; for your offence in setting me a task beyond my powers should
not be deemed less than mine in having accepted it.
So now let us make a beginning of our subject, and if possible let us
form such a Courtier that any prince worthy to be served by him,
although of but small estate,[22] might still be called a very great
lord.
In these books we shall follow no fixed order or rule of distinct
precepts, such as are usually employed in teaching anything whatever;
but after the fashion of many ancient writers, we shall revive a
pleasant memory and rehearse certain discussions that were held between
men singularly competent in such matters; and although I had no part in
them personally, being in England at the time they took place,[23] yet
having received them soon after my return, from one who faithfully
reported them to me, I will try to recall them as accurately as my
memory will permit, so that you may know what was thought and believed
on this subject by men who are worthy of highest praise, and to whose
judgment implicit faith may be given in all things. Nor will it be amiss
to tell the cause of these discussions, so that we may reach in orderly
manner the end to which our discourse tends.
[Illustration:
GUIDOBALDO DI MONTEFELTRO
DUKE OF URBINO
1472-1508
]
From Alinari’s photograph (no. 7351) of the portrait, in the Colonna
Gallery at Rome, variously attributed to Raphael’s father, Giovanni
Santi (1440?-1494), and (by Morelli) to Melozzo degli Ambrosi da
Forli (1438-1494). Schmarzow’s iconographical identification of this
portrait (formerly supposed to represent Raphael as a boy) is
confirmed by its close resemblance to the young duke’s features as
shown on coins issued in the early years of his reign.
2.—On the slopes of the Apennines towards the Adriatic sea, almost in
the centre of Italy, there lies (as everyone knows) the little city of
Urbino. Although amid mountains, and less pleasing ones than perhaps
some others that we see in many places, it has yet enjoyed such favour
of heaven that the country round about is very fertile and rich in
crops; so that besides the wholesomeness of the air, there is great
abundance of everything needful for human life. But among the greatest
blessings that can be attributed to it, this I believe to be the chief,
that for a long time it has ever been ruled by the best of lords;[24]
although in the calamities of the universal wars of Italy, it was for a
season deprived of them.[25] But without seeking further, we can give
good proof of this by the glorious memory of Duke Federico,[26] who in
his day was the light of Italy; nor is there lack of credible and
abundant witnesses, who are still living, to his prudence, humanity,
justice, liberality, unconquered courage,—and to his military
discipline, which is conspicuously attested by his numerous victories,
his capture of impregnable places, the sudden swiftness of his
expeditions, the frequency with which he put to flight large and
formidable armies by means of a very small force, and by his loss of no
single battle whatever;[27] so that we may not unreasonably compare him
to many famous men of old.
Among his other praiseworthy deeds, he built on the rugged site of
Urbino a palace regarded by many as the most beautiful to be found in
all Italy; and he so well furnished it with everything suitable that it
seemed not a palace but a city in the form of a palace; and not merely
with what is ordinarily used,—such as silver vases, hangings of richest
cloth-of-gold and silk, and other similar things,—but for ornament he
added countless antique statues in marble and bronze, pictures most
choice, and musical instruments of every sort, nor would he admit
anything there that was not very rare and excellent. Then at very great
cost he collected a goodly number of most excellent and rare books in
Greek, Latin and Hebrew, all of which he adorned with gold and with
silver, esteeming this to be the chiefest excellence of his great
palace.[28]
3.—Following then the course of nature, and already sixty-five years
old,[29] he died gloriously, as he had lived; and he left as his
successor a motherless little boy of ten years, his only son Guidobaldo.
Heir to the State, he seemed to be heir also to all his father’s
virtues, and soon his noble nature gave such promise as seemed not
permissible to hope for from mortal man; so that men esteemed none among
the notable deeds of Duke Federico to be greater than to have begotten
such a son. But envious of so much virtue, fortune thwarted this
glorious beginning with all her power; so that before Duke Guido reached
the age of twenty years, he fell ill of the gout,[30] which grew upon
him with grievous pain, and in a short space of time so crippled all his
members that he could neither stand upon his feet nor move; and thus one
of the fairest and most promising forms in the world was distorted and
spoiled in tender youth.
And not content even with this, fortune was so contrary to him in all
his purposes, that he could seldom carry into effect anything that he
desired; and although he was very wise of counsel and unconquered in
spirit, it seemed that what he undertook, both in war and in everything
else whether small or great, always ended ill for him. And proof of this
is found in his many and diverse calamities, which he ever bore with
such strength of mind, that his spirit was never vanquished by fortune;
nay, scorning her assaults with unbroken courage, he lived in illness as
if in health and in adversity as if fortunate, with perfect dignity and
universal esteem; so that although he was thus infirm of body, he fought
with most honourable rank in the service of their Serene Highnesses the
Kings of Naples, Alfonso[31] and Ferdinand the Younger;[32] later with
Pope Alexander VI,[33] and with the Venetian and Florentine signories.
Upon the accession of Julius II[34] to the pontificate, he was made
Captain of the Church; at which time, following his accustomed habit,
above all else he took care to fill his household with very noble and
valiant gentlemen, with whom he lived most familiarly, delighting in
their intercourse: wherein the pleasure he gave to others was not less
than that he received from others, he being well versed in both the
[learned][35] languages, and uniting affability and pleasantness[36] to
a knowledge of things without number. And besides this, the greatness of
his spirit so set him on, that although he could not practise in person
the exercises of chivalry, as he once had done, yet he took the utmost
pleasure in witnessing them in others; and by his words, now correcting
now praising every man according to desert, he clearly showed his
judgment in those matters; wherefore, in jousts and tournaments, in
riding, in the handling of every sort of weapon, as well as in pastimes,
games, music,—in short, in all the exercises proper to noble
cavaliers,—everyone strove so to show himself, as to merit being deemed
worthy of such noble fellowship.
[Illustration:
EMILIA PIA
Died 1528
]
Enlarged from a photograph, specially made by Mansell, of a cast, kindly
furnished by T. Whitcombe Greene, Esq., of a medal in his collection
at Chandler’s Ford, Hampshire, possibly the work of Giancristoforo
Romano (1465?-1512). See Armand’s _Les Médailleurs Italiens_, iii,
202.
4.—Thus all the hours of the day were assigned to honourable and
pleasant exercises as well for the body as for the mind; but since my
lord Duke was always wont by reason of his infirmity to retire to sleep
very early after supper, everyone usually betook himself at that hour to
the presence of my lady Duchess, Elisabetta Gonzaga; where also was ever
to be found my lady Emilia Pia,[37] who was endowed with such lively wit
and judgment that, as you know, it seemed as if she were the Mistress of
us all, and as if everyone gained wisdom and worth from her. Here then,
gentle discussions and innocent pleasantries were heard, and on the face
of everyone a jocund gaiety was seen depicted, so that the house could
truly be called the very abode of mirth: nor ever elsewhere, I think,
was so relished, as once was here, how great sweetness may flow from
dear and cherished companionship; for not to speak of the honour it was
to each of us to serve such a lord as he of whom I have just spoken,
there was born in the hearts of all a supreme contentment every time we
came into the presence of my lady Duchess; and it seemed as if this were
a chain that held us all linked in love, so that never was concord of
will or cordial love between brothers greater than that which here was
between us all.
The same was it among the ladies, with whom there was intercourse most
free and honourable; for everyone was permitted to talk, sit, jest and
laugh with whom he pleased; but such was the reverence paid to the wish
of my lady Duchess, that this same liberty was a very great check;[38]
nor was there anyone who did not esteem it the utmost pleasure he could
have in the world, to please her, and the utmost pain to displease her.
And thus, most decorous manners were here joined with greatest liberty,
and games and laughter in her presence were seasoned not only with witty
jests, but with gracious and sober dignity; for that modesty and
loftiness which governed all the acts, words and gestures of my lady
Duchess, bantering and laughing, were such that she would have been
known for a lady of noblest rank by anyone who saw her even but once.
And impressing herself thus upon those about her, she seemed to attune
us all to her own quality and tone; accordingly every man strove to
follow this pattern, taking as it were a rule of beautiful behaviour
from the presence of so great and virtuous a lady; whose highest
qualities I do not now purpose to recount, they not being my theme and
being well known to all the world, and far more because I could not
express them with either tongue or pen; and those that perhaps might
have been somewhat hid, fortune, as if wondering at such rare virtue,
chose to reveal through many adversities and stings of calamity, so as
to give proof that in the tender breast of woman, in company with
singular beauty, there may abide prudence and strength of soul, and all
those virtues that even among stern men are very rare.[39]
5.—But leaving this aside, I say that the custom of all the gentlemen of
the house was to betake themselves straightway after supper to my lady
Duchess; where, among the other pleasant pastimes and music and dancing
that continually were practised, sometimes neat questions were proposed,
sometimes ingenious games were devised at the choice of one or another,
in which under various disguises the company disclosed their thoughts
figuratively to whom they liked best. Sometimes other discussions arose
about different matters, or biting retorts passed lightly back and
forth. Often “devices” (_imprese_), as we now call them, were
displayed;[40] in discussing which there was wonderful diversion, the
house being (as I have said) full of very noble talents; among whom (as
you know) the most famous were my lord Ottaviano Fregoso, his brother
messer Federico,[41] the Magnifico Giuliano de’ Medici, messer Pietro
Bembo,[42] messer Cesare Gonzaga,[43] Count Ludovico da Canossa,[44] my
lord Gaspar Pallavicino,[45] my lord Ludovico Pio,[46] my lord Morello
da Ortona,[47] Pietro da Napoli, messer Roberto da Bari,[48] and
countless other very noble cavaliers. Moreover there were many, who,
although usually they did not dwell there constantly, yet spent most of
the time there: like messer Bernardo Bibbiena, the Unico Aretino,[49]
Giancristoforo Romano,[50] Pietro Monte,[51] Terpandro,[52] messer
Niccolò Frisio;[53] so that there always flocked thither poets,
musicians and all sorts of agreeable[54] men, and in every walk the most
excellent that were to be found in Italy.
[Illustration:
ELISABETTA GONZAGA
DUCHESS OF URBINO
1471-1526
]
Reduced from Braun’s photograph (no. 41.121) of the portrait in the
Uffizi Gallery at Florence, variously ascribed to Andrea Mantegna
(1431-1506), to Lorenzo Costa (1460-1535), and to Francesco
Bonsignori (1455-1519).
6.—Now Pope Julius II, having by his presence and the aid of the French
brought Bologna under subjection to the apostolic see in the year 1506,
and being on his way back to Rome, passed through Urbino; where he was
received with all possible honour and with as magnificent and splendid
state as could have been prepared in any other noble city of Italy: so
that besides the pope, all the lord cardinals and other courtiers were
most highly gratified. And some there were, attracted by the charm of
this society, who tarried at Urbino many days after the departure of the
pope and his court; during which time not only were the ordinary
pastimes and diversions continued in the usual manner, but every man
strove to contribute something new, and especially in the games, to
which almost every evening was devoted. And the order of them was such
that immediately after reaching the presence of my lady Duchess,
everyone sat down in a circle as he pleased or as chance decided; and in
sitting they were arranged alternately, a man and a woman, as long as
there were women, for nearly always the number of men was by far the
greater; then they were governed as seemed best to my lady Duchess, who
for the most part left this charge to my lady Emilia.
So, the day after the pope’s departure,[55] the company being assembled
at the wonted hour and place, after much pleasant talk, my lady Duchess
desired my lady Emilia to begin the games; and she, after having for a
time refused the task, spoke thus:
“My Lady, since it pleases you that I shall be the one to begin the
games this evening, not being able in reason to fail to obey you, I will
propose a game in which I think I ought to have little blame and less
labour; and this shall be for everyone to propose after his liking a
game that has never been given; and then we will choose the one that
seems best worthy to be played in this company.”
And so saying, she turned to my lord Gaspar Pallavicino, requiring him
to tell his choice; and he at once replied:
“It is for you, my Lady, first to tell your own.”
“But I have already told it,” said my lady Emilia; “now do you, my lady
Duchess, bid him be obedient.”[56]
Then my lady Duchess said, smiling:
“To the end that everyone may be bound to obey you, I make you my deputy
and give you all my authority.”
7.—“It is a remarkable thing,” replied my lord Gaspar, “that women
should always be allowed this exemption from toil, and it certainly
would not be unreasonable to wish in some way to learn the reason why;
but not to be the first to disobey, I will leave this for another time,
and will tell what is required of me;” and he began: “It seems to me
that in love, as in everything else, our minds judge diversely; and thus
it often happens that what is very delightful to one man, is very
hateful to another; but none the less we all are ever alike in this,
that every man holds his beloved very dear; so that the over fondness of
lovers often cheats their judgment to such a degree, that they esteem
the person whom they love to be the only one in the world adorned with
every excellent virtue and wholly without defect; but since human nature
does not admit such complete perfection, and since there is no one to be
found who does not lack something, it cannot be said that such men do
not cheat themselves, and that the lover does not become blind
concerning the beloved. I would therefore that this evening our game
might be that each of us should tell what virtue above others he would
have the person whom he loves adorned with; and then, as all must have
some blemish, what fault he would have in her; in order that we may see
who can find the most praiseworthy and useful virtues, and the most
excusable faults and least harmful to lover and beloved.”
My lord Gaspar having spoken thus, my lady Emilia made sign to madonna
Costanza Fregosa[57] to follow after, because she sat next in order, and
she was preparing to speak; but my lady Duchess said quickly:
“Since my lady Emilia will not make the effort to invent a game, it were
only fair that the other ladies share this ease and that they too be
exempt from such exertion for this evening, especially as there are here
so many men that there is no danger of lack of games.”
“So be it,” replied my lady Emilia; and imposing silence on madonna
Costanza, she turned to messer Cesare Gonzaga, who sat next, and bade
him speak; and he began thus:
8.—“Whoso will carefully consider all our actions, will ever find
various defects in them; the reason whereof is that nature, variable in
this as in other things, has given to one man the light of reason in one
thing, to another man in another thing; and so it happens that, the one
knowing what the other does not know and being ignorant of what the
other understands, each readily perceives his neighbour’s fault and not
his own, and we all seem to ourselves very wise and perhaps most of all
in that wherein we most are foolish. Thus we have seen it happen in this
house that many, at first accounted very wise, were in course of time
recognized as very foolish, which came about from nothing else but our
own watchfulness. For, as they say that in Apulia musical instruments
are used for those bitten by the tarantula,[58] and various tunes are
tried until the humour that causes the malady (through a certain
affinity it has for some one of those tunes) is suddenly stirred by the
sound, and so excites the sick man that he is restored to health by
virtue of that excitement: so when we have perceived a hidden touch of
folly, we have stimulated it so artfully and with such various
persuasions and diverse means, that at length we have learned whither it
tended; then, the humour once recognized, so well have we excited it
that it has always reached the perfection of open folly. Thus one man
has waxed foolish over poetry, another over music, another over love,
another over dancing, another over inventing mimes,[59] another over
riding, another over fencing,—each according to the native quality of
his metal; whence, as you know, great amusement has been derived. I hold
it then as certain that there is some grain of folly in each of us,
which being quickened can multiply almost infinitely.
“Therefore I would that this evening our game might be a discussion upon
this subject, and that each one tell with what kind of folly, and about
what thing, he thinks I should make a fool of myself if I had to make a
fool of myself openly, judging of this outburst by the sparks of folly
that are daily seen to issue from me. Let the same be told of all the
rest, keeping to the order of our games, and let each one try to found
his opinion upon some actual sign and argument. And thus we shall each
derive from our game the advantage of learning our defects, and so shall
be better able to guard against them; and if the vein of folly that is
discovered proves so rich that it seems incurable, we will assist it,
and according to fra Mariano’s[60] teaching, we shall have saved a soul,
which will be no small gain.”
There was much laughter at this game, nor were there any who could keep
from talking; one said, “I should make a fool of myself over thinking;”
another, “Over looking;” another said, “I have already made a fool of
myself over loving;” and the like.
9.—Then fra Serafino[61] said, laughing after his manner:
“That would take too long; but if you want a fine game, let everyone
give his opinion why it is that nearly all women hold rats in hatred,
and are fond of snakes; and you will see that no one will guess the
reason except myself, who learned this secret in a strange way.” And he
began to tell his stories; but my lady Emilia bade him be silent, and
passing over the lady who sat next, made sign to the Unico Aretino whose
turn it was; and he, without waiting for further command, said:
“I would I were a judge with power to search the heart of evil-doers by
every sort of torture; and this that I might fathom the deceits of an
ingrate with angel eyes and serpent heart, who never lets her tongue
reveal her soul, and with deceitful pity feigned has no thought but of
dissecting hearts. Nor is there in sandy Libya to be found a serpent so
venomous and eager for human blood as is this false one; who not only in
the sweetness of her voice and honeyed words, but in her eyes, her
smiles, her aspect and in all her ways, is a very siren.
“But since I am not suffered, as I would I were, to use chains, rope and
fire to learn a certain truth, I fain would learn it by a game,—which is
this: let each one tell what he believes to be the meaning of that
letter S which my lady Duchess wears upon her brow;[62] for, although
this too is surely an artful veil to aid deceit, perchance there will be
given it some interpretation unthought of by her perhaps, and it will be
found that fortune, compassionate spectatress of men’s martyrdoms, has
led her against her will to disclose by this small token her secret wish
to slay and bury alive in calamity everyone who beholds her or serves
her.”
[Illustration:
BERNARDO ACCOLTI
THE UNICO ARETINO
1465?-1535
]
Head enlarged from a photograph, specially made by Alinari, of a part of
the fresco, “Leo X’s Entry into Florence,” in the Palazzo Vecchio at
Florence, by Giorgio Vasari (1511-1574). See Milanesi’s edition of
Vasari’s _Opere_, viii, 142.
My lady Duchess laughed, and the Unico, seeing that she wished to defend
herself against this imputation, said:
“Nay, my Lady, do not speak, for it is not now your turn to speak.”
My lady Emilia then turned and said:
“Sir Unico, there is no one of us here who does not yield to you in
everything, but above all in knowledge of my lady Duchess’s mind; and
since you know it better than the others (thanks to your divine genius),
you love it better than the others, who like those weak-sighted birds
that fix not their eyes upon the sun’s orb, cannot so justly know how
perfect it is; wherefore every effort to clear this doubt would be vain,
save your own judgment. To you alone then be left this task, as to him
who alone can perform it.”
The Unico remained silent for a while, then being urged to speak, at
last recited a sonnet upon the aforesaid subject, declaring what that
letter S meant; which was by many believed to be done impromptu, but as
it was more ingenious and finished than seemed to accord with the
shortness of the time, it was thought rather to have been prepared.[62]
10.—Then having bestowed a merry plaudit in praise of the sonnet, and
talked of it awhile, my lord Ottaviano Fregoso, whose turn it was,
smilingly began as follows:
“My Lords, if I were to affirm that I had never felt the passion of
love, I am sure that my lady Duchess and my lady Emilia would feign to
believe it even though they believed it not, and would say that it was
because I mistrusted ever being able to prevail upon any woman to love
me; whereof indeed I have not made trial hitherto with such persistence
as reasonably to despair of being able sometime to succeed. But yet I
have not refrained because I rate myself so high, or women so low, that
I do not deem many of them worthy to be loved and served by me; but made
timourous rather by the continual laments of some lovers, who—pallid,
gloomy and taciturn—seem always to wear their unhappiness depicted in
their eyes; and if they speak, they accompany every word with triple
sighs, and discourse of nothing but tears, torments, despairings and
longings for death; so that if an amourous spark has sometimes kindled
in my heart, I have at once striven with all my might to quench it, not
from any hate I bear to women as these ladies think, but for my own
good.
“I have also known some others quite different from these dolourous
souls,—lovers who not only give thanks and praise for the kind looks,
tender words and gentle bearing of their mistresses, but flavour all
evils with sweetness, so that they call their ladies’ warrings, anger
and disdain, most sweet. Wherefore such as these seem to me far more
than happy. For if they find such sweetness in lovers’ quarrels, which
those others deem far more bitter than death, I think that in loving
endearments they must enjoy that supreme beatitude which we vainly seek
in this world. So I would that this evening our game might be, that each
man tell, if she whom he loves must needs be angry with him, by what
cause he would have her anger roused. Because if there be any here who
have enjoyed this sweet anger, I am sure that out of courtesy they will
choose one of those causes that make it so sweet; and perhaps I shall
take courage to advance a little farther in love, hoping that I too may
find this sweetness where some find bitterness; and then these ladies
will be no longer able to cast shame upon me because I do not love.”
11.—This game found much favour and everyone made ready to speak upon
the subject, but as my lady Emilia made no further mention of it, messer
Pietro Bembo, who sat next in order, spoke thus:
“My Lords, no small uncertainty has been awakened in my mind by the game
proposed by my lord Ottaviano in his discourse about love’s anger: the
which, however varied it be, has in my case always been most bitter, nor
do I believe that any seasoning could be learned from me that would
avail to sweeten it; but perhaps it is more or less bitter according to
the cause from which it springs.[63] For I remember once to have seen
the lady whom I served wrought up against me, either by some idle
suspicion that she had herself conceived as to my loyalty, or by some
other false notion awakened in her by what others had said to my injury;
insomuch that I believed no pain could equal mine, and it seemed to me
that the greatest suffering I felt was to endure that which I had not
deserved, and to have this affliction come upon me not from my fault but
from her lack of love. At other times I saw her angered by some errour
of mine, and knew her ire to proceed from my fault; and then I deemed
that my former woe was very light compared with that which now I felt;
and it seemed to me that to have displeased, and through my own guilt,
the person whom alone I desired and so zealously strove to please, was
the greatest torment and above all others. I would therefore that our
game might be that each man tell, if she whom he loves must needs be
angry with him, from which of the two he would have her anger spring,
from her or from himself; so that we may know which is the greater
suffering, to give displeasure to her who is loved, or to receive it
from her who is loved.”
12.—Everyone waited for my lady Emilia to reply; but she, saying nothing
more to Bembo, turned and made sign to messer Federico Fregoso that he
should tell his game; and he at once began as follows:
“My Lady, I would it were permitted me, as it sometimes is, to assent to
another’s proposal; since for my part I would readily approve any of the
games proposed by these gentlemen, for I really think that all of them
would be amusing. But not to break our rule, I say that anyone who
wished to praise our court,—laying aside the merit of our lady Duchess,
which with her divine virtue would suffice to lift from earth to heaven
the meanest souls that are in the world,—might well say without
suspicion of flattery, that in all Italy it would perhaps be hard to
find so many cavaliers so singularly admirable and so excellent in
divers other matters besides the chief concerns of chivalry, as are now
to be found here: wherefore if anywhere there be men who deserve to be
called good Courtiers and who are able to judge of what pertains to the
perfection of Courtiership, it is reasonable to believe that they are
here. So, to repress the many fools who by impudence and folly think to
win the name of good Courtier, I would that this evening’s game might
be, that we select some one of the company and give him the task of
portraying a perfect Courtier, explaining all the conditions and special
qualities requisite in one who deserves this title; and as to those
things that shall not appear sound, let everyone be allowed to
contradict, as in the schools of the philosophers it is allowed to
contradict anyone who proposes a thesis.”
Messer Federico was continuing his discourse still further, when my lady
Emilia interrupted him and said:
“This, if it pleases my lady Duchess, shall for the present be our
game.”
My lady Duchess answered:
“It does please me.”
Then nearly all those present began to say, both to my lady Duchess and
among themselves, that this was the finest game that could possibly be;
and without waiting for each other’s answer, they entreated my lady
Emilia to decide who should begin. She turned to my lady Duchess and
said:
“Command, my Lady, him who it best pleases you should have this task;
for I do not wish, by selecting one rather than another, to seem to
decide whom I think more competent in this matter than the rest, and so
do wrong to anyone.”
My lady Duchess replied:
“Nay, make this choice yourself, and take heed lest by not obeying you
give an example to the others, so that they too prove disobedient in
their turn.”
13.—At this my lady Emilia laughed and said to Count Ludovico da
Canossa:
“Then not to lose more time, you, Count, shall be the one to take this
enterprise after the manner that messer Federico has described; not
indeed because we account you so good a Courtier that you know what
befits one, but because, if you say everything wrong as we hope you
will, the game will be more lively, for everyone will then have
something to answer you; while if someone else had this task who knew
more than you, it would be impossible to contradict him in anything,
because he would tell the truth, and so the game would be tedious.”
The Count answered quickly:
“Whoever told the truth, my Lady, would run no risk of lacking
contradiction, so long as you were present;” and after some laughter at
this retort, he continued: “But truly I would fain escape this burden,
it seeming to me too heavy, and I being conscious that what you said in
jest is very true; that is, that I do not know what befits a good
Courtier: and I do not seek to prove this with further argument,
because, as I do not practise the rules of Courtiership, one may judge
that I do not know them; and I think my blame may be the less, for sure
it is worse not to wish to do well than not to know how. Yet, since it
so happens that you are pleased to have me bear this burden, I neither
can nor will refuse it, in order not to contravene our rule and your
judgment, which I rate far higher than my own.”
[Illustration:
COUNT LUDOVICO DA CANOSSA
1476-1532
]
Reduced from a photograph, specially made through the courtesy of the
Bishop of Bayeux, of an anonymous portrait in his possession. The
sadly injured condition of the original rendered it necessary to
retouch the negative, in which process recourse was had to a small
photograph, kindly furnished by the Marquess Ottavio di Canossa, of
his copy of the Bayeux portrait.
Then messer Cesare Gonzaga said:
“As the early evening is now spent and many other kinds of entertainment
are ready, perhaps it will be well to put off this discussion until
to-morrow and give the Count time to think of what he has to say; for it
is difficult indeed to speak unprepared on such a subject.”
The Count replied:
“I do not wish to be like the fellow who, when stripped to his shirt,
vaulted less well than he had done in his doublet; hence it seems to me
good fortune that the hour is late, for I shall be obliged by the
shortness of the time to say but little, and my not having taken thought
will excuse me, so that I shall be allowed to say without blame whatever
first comes to my lips.
“Therefore, not to carry this burden of duty longer on my shoulders, I
say that in everything it is so hard to know the true perfection as to
be well nigh impossible; and this because of the variety of opinions.
Thus there are many that will like a man who speaks much, and will call
him pleasing; some will prefer modesty; some others, an active and
restless man; still others, one who shows calmness and deliberation in
everything; and so every man praises or decries according to his mind,
always clothing vice with the name of its kindred virtue, or virtue with
the name of its kindred vice; for example, calling an impudent man
frank, a modest man dull, an ignorant man good, a knave discreet; and so
in all things else. Yet I believe that there exists in everything its
own perfection, although concealed; and that this can be determined
through rational discussion by any having knowledge of the thing in
hand. And since, as I have said, the truth often lies concealed, and I
do not profess to have this knowledge, I can only praise the kind of
Courtier that I most esteem, and approve him who seems to me nearest
right, according to my poor judgment; the which you will follow if you
find it good, or you will hold to your own if it differs from mine. Nor
shall I at all insist that mine is better than yours; not only because
you may think one thing and I another, but I myself may sometimes think
one thing, and sometimes another.
14.—“I wish, then, that this Courtier of ours should be nobly born and
of gentle race; because it is far less unseemly for one of ignoble birth
to fail in worthy deeds, than for one of noble birth, who, if he strays
from the path of his predecessors, stains his family name, and not only
fails to achieve but loses what has been achieved already; for noble
birth is like a bright lamp that manifests and makes visible good and
evil deeds, and kindles and stimulates to virtue both by fear of shame
and by hope of praise. And since this splendour of nobility does not
illumine the deeds of the humbly born, they lack that stimulus and fear
of shame, nor do they feel any obligation to advance beyond what their
predecessors have done; while to the nobly born it seems a reproach not
to reach at least the goal set them by their ancestors. And thus it
nearly always happens that both in the profession of arms and in other
worthy pursuits the most famous men have been of noble birth, because
nature has implanted in everything that hidden seed which gives a
certain force and quality of its own essence to all things that are
derived from it, and makes them like itself: as we see not only in the
breeds of horses and of other animals, but also in trees, the shoots of
which nearly always resemble the trunk; and if they sometimes
degenerate, it arises from poor cultivation. And so it is with men, who
if rightly trained are nearly always like those from whom they spring,
and often better; but if there be no one to give them proper care, they
become like savages and never reach perfection.
“It is true that, by favour of the stars or of nature, some men are
endowed at birth with such graces that they seem not to have been born,
but rather as if some god had formed them with his very hands and
adorned them with every excellence of mind and body. So too there are
many men so foolish and rude that one cannot but think that nature
brought them into the world out of contempt or mockery. Just as these
can usually accomplish little even with constant diligence and good
training, so with slight pains those others reach the highest summit of
excellence. And to give you an instance: you see my lord Don Ippolito
d’Este,[64] Cardinal of Ferrara, who has enjoyed such fortune from his
birth, that his person, his aspect, his words and all his movements are
so disposed and imbued with this grace, that—although he is young—he
exhibits among the most aged prelates such weight of character that he
seems fitter to teach than to be taught; likewise in conversation with
men and women of every rank, in games, in pleasantry and in banter, he
has a certain sweetness and manners so gracious, that whoso speaks with
him or even sees him, must needs remain attached to him forever.
[Illustration:
IPPOLITO D’ESTE
1479-1520
]
Enlarged from a cast, courteously furnished by the Austrian authorities,
of an anonymous medal in the Imperial Museum at Vienna. See Armand’s
_Les Médailleurs Italiens_, iii, 169, G.
“But to return to our subject: I say that there is a middle state
between perfect grace on the one hand and senseless folly on the other;
and those who are not thus perfectly endowed by nature, with study and
toil can in great part polish and amend their natural defects. Besides
his noble birth, then, I would have the Courtier favoured in this regard
also, and endowed by nature not only with talent and beauty of person
and feature, but with a certain grace and (as we say) air that shall
make him at first sight pleasing and agreeable to all who see him; and I
would have this an ornament that should dispose and unite all his
actions, and in his outward aspect give promise of whatever is worthy
the society and favour of every great lord.”
15.—Here, without waiting longer, my lord Gaspar Pallavicino said:
“In order that our game may have the form prescribed, and that we may
not seem to slight the privilege given us to contradict, I say that this
nobility of birth does not appear to me so essential in the Courtier;
and if I thought I were saying what was new to any of us, I should cite
instances of many men born of the noblest blood who have been full of
vices; and on the other hand, of many men among the humbly born who by
their virtue have made their posterity illustrious. And if what you just
said be true, namely that there is in everything this occult influence
of the original seed, then we should all be in the same case, because we
had the same origin, nor would any man be more noble than another. But
as to our differences and grades of eminence and obscurity, I believe
there are many other causes: among which I rate fortune to be chief; for
we see her holding sway in all mundane affairs, often amusing herself by
lifting to heaven whom she pleases (although wholly without merit), and
burying in the depths those most worthy to be exalted.
“I quite agree with what you say as to the good fortune of those endowed
from birth with advantages of mind and body: but this is seen as well
among the humbly born as among the nobly born, since nature has no such
subtle distinctions as these; and often, as I said, the highest gifts of
nature are found among the most obscure. Therefore, since this nobility
of birth is won neither by talent nor by strength nor by craft, and is
rather the merit of our predecessors than our own, it seems to me too
extravagant to maintain that if our Courtier’s parents be humbly born,
all his good qualities are spoiled, and that all those other
qualifications that you mentioned do not avail to raise him to the
summit of perfection; I mean talent, beauty of feature, comeliness of
person, and that grace which makes him always charming to everyone at
first sight.”
16.—Then Count Ludovico replied:
“I do not deny that the same virtues may rule the low-born and the
noble: but (not to repeat what we have said already or the many other
arguments that could be adduced in praise of noble birth, which is
honoured always and by everyone, it being reasonable that good should
beget good), since we have to form a Courtier without flaw and endowed
with every praiseworthy quality, it seems to me necessary to make him
nobly born, as well for many other reasons as for universal opinion,
which is at once disposed in favour of noble birth. For if there be two
Courtiers who have as yet given no impression of themselves by good or
evil acts, as soon as the one is known to have been born a gentleman and
the other not, he who is low-born will be far less esteemed by everyone
than he who is high-born, and will need much effort and time to make
upon men’s minds that good impression which the other will have achieved
in a moment and merely by being a gentleman. And how important these
impressions are, everyone can easily understand: for in our own case we
have seen men present themselves in this house, who, being silly and
awkward in the extreme, yet had throughout Italy the reputation of very
great Courtiers; and although they were detected and recognized at last,
still they imposed upon us for many days, and maintained in our minds
that opinion of them which they first found impressed there, although
they conducted themselves after the slightness of their worth. We have
seen others, held at first in small esteem, then admirably successful at
the last.
“And of these mistakes there are various causes: and among others, the
regard of princes, who in their wish to perform miracles sometimes
undertake to bestow favour on a man who seems to them to merit
disfavour. And often too they are themselves deceived; but since they
always have a host of imitators, their favour begets very great fame,
which chiefly guides our judgments: and if we find anything that seems
contrary to common opinion, we suspect that it is we ourselves who are
wrong, and always seek for something hidden: because it seems that these
universal opinions must after all be founded on fact and spring from
rational causes; and because our minds are very prone to love and hate,
as is seen in battle-shows and games and every other sort of contest,
wherein the spectators without apparent cause become partisans of one
side, with eager wish that it may win and the other lose. In our opinion
of men’s character also, good or evil fame sways our minds to one of
these two passions from the start; and thus it happens that we usually
judge with love or hate. You see then how important this first
impression is, and how he ought to strive to make a good one at the
outset, who thinks to hold the rank and name of good Courtier.
17.—“But to come to some details, I am of opinion that the principal and
true profession of the Courtier ought to be that of arms; which I would
have him follow actively above all else, and be known among others as
bold and strong, and loyal to whomsoever he serves. And he will win a
reputation for these good qualities by exercising them at all times and
in all places, since one may never fail in this without severest
censure. And just as among women, their fair fame once sullied never
recovers its first lustre, so the reputation of a gentleman who bears
arms, if once it be in the least tarnished with cowardice or other
disgrace, remains forever infamous before the world and full of
ignominy. Therefore the more our Courtier excels in this art, the more
he will be worthy of praise; and yet I do not deem essential in him that
perfect knowledge of things and those other qualities that befit a
commander; since this would be too wide a sea, let us be content, as we
have said, with perfect loyalty and unconquered courage, and that he be
always seen to possess them. For the courageous are often recognized
even more in small things than in great; and frequently in perils of
importance and where there are many spectators, some men are to be
found, who, although their hearts be dead within them, yet, moved by
shame or by the presence of others, press forward almost with their eyes
shut, and do their duty God knows how. While on occasions of little
moment, when they think they can avoid putting themselves in danger
without being detected, they are glad to keep safe. But those who, even
when they do not expect to be observed or seen or recognized by anyone,
show their ardour and neglect nothing, however paltry, that may be laid
to their charge,—they have that strength of mind which we seek in our
Courtier.
“Not that we would have him look so fierce, or go about blustering, or
say that he has taken his cuirass to wife, or threaten with those grim
scowls that we have often seen in Berto;[65] because to such men as
this, one might justly say that which a brave lady jestingly said in
gentle company to one whom I will not name at present;[66] who, being
invited by her out of compliment to dance, refused not only that, but to
listen to the music, and many other entertainments proposed to
him,—saying always that such silly trifles were not his business; so
that at last the lady said, ‘What is your business, then?’ He replied
with a sour look, ‘To fight.’ Then the lady at once said, ‘Now that you
are in no war and out of fighting trim, I should think it were a good
thing to have yourself well oiled, and to stow yourself with all your
battle harness in a closet until you be needed, lest you grow more rusty
than you are;’ and so, amid much laughter from the bystanders, she left
the discomfited fellow to his silly presumption.
“Therefore let the man we are seeking, be very bold, stern, and always
among the first, where the enemy are to be seen; and in every other
place, gentle, modest, reserved, above all things avoiding ostentation
and that impudent self-praise by which men ever excite hatred and
disgust in all who hear them.”
18.—Then my lord Gaspar replied:
“As for me, I have known few men excellent in anything whatever, who do
not praise themselves; and it seems to me that this may well be
permitted them; for when anyone who feels himself to be of worth, sees
that he is not known to the ignorant by his works, he is offended that
his worth should lie buried, and needs must in some way hold it up to
view, in order that he may not be cheated of the fame that is the true
reward of worthy effort. Thus among the ancient authors, whoever carries
weight seldom fails to praise himself. They indeed are insufferable who
do this without desert, but such we do not presume our Courtier to be.”
The Count then said:
“If you heard what I said, it was impudent and indiscriminate
self-praise that I censured: and as you say, we surely ought not to form
a bad opinion of a brave man who praises himself modestly, nay we ought
rather to regard such praise as better evidence than if it came from the
mouth of others. I say, however, that he, who in praising himself runs
into no errour and incurs no annoyance or envy at the hands of those
that hear him, is a very discreet man indeed and merits praise from
others in addition to that which he bestows upon himself; because it is
a very difficult matter.”
Then my lord Gaspar said:
“You must teach us that.”
The Count replied:
“Among the ancient authors there is no lack of those who have taught it;
but to my thinking, the whole art consists in saying things in such a
way that they shall not seem to be said to that end, but let fall so
naturally that it was impossible not to say them, and while seeming
always to avoid self-praise, yet to achieve it; but not after the manner
of those boasters, who open their mouths and let the words come forth
haphazard. Like one of our friends a few days ago, who, being quite run
through the thigh with a spear at Pisa, said he thought it was a fly
that had stung him; and another man said he kept no mirrour in his room
because, when angry, he became so terrible to look at, that the sight of
himself would have frightened him too much.”
Everyone laughed at this, but messer Cesare Gonzaga added:
“Why do you laugh? Do you not know that Alexander the Great, on hearing
the opinion of a philosopher[67] to be that there was an infinite number
of worlds, began to weep, and being asked why he wept, replied, ‘Because
I have not yet conquered one of them;’ as if he would fain have
vanquished all? Does not this seem to you a greater boast than that
about the fly-sting?”
Then the Count said:
“Yes, and Alexander was a greater man than he who made the other speech.
But extraordinary men are surely to be pardoned when they assume much;
for he who has great things to do must needs have daring to do them, and
confidence in himself, and must not be abject or mean in spirit, yet
very modest in speech, showing less confidence in himself than he has,
lest his self-confidence lead to rashness.”
19.—The Count now paused a little, and messer Bernardo Bibbiena said,
laughing:
“I remember what you said earlier, that this Courtier of ours must be
endowed by nature with beauty of countenance and person, and with a
grace that shall make him so agreeable. Grace and beauty of countenance
I think I certainly possess, and this is the reason why so many ladies
are ardently in love with me, as you know; but I am rather doubtful as
to the beauty of my person, especially as regards these legs of mine,
which seem to me decidedly less well proportioned than I should wish: as
to my bust and other members however, I am quite content. Pray, now,
describe a little more in particular the sort of body that the Courtier
is to have, so that I may dismiss this doubt and set my mind at rest.”
After some laughter at this, the Count continued:
“Of a certainty that grace of countenance can be truly said to be yours,
nor need I cite further example than this to show what manner of thing
it is, for we unquestionably perceive your aspect to be most agreeable
and pleasing to everyone, albeit the lineaments of it are not very
delicate. Still it is of a manly cast and at the same time full of
grace; and this characteristic is to be found in many different types of
countenance. And of such sort I would have our Courtier’s aspect; not so
soft and effeminate as is sought by many, who not only curl their hair
and pluck their brows, but gloss their faces with all those arts
employed by the most wanton and unchaste women in the world; and in
their walk, posture and every act, they seem so limp and languid that
their limbs are like to fall apart; and they pronounce their words so
mournfully that they appear about to expire upon the spot: and the more
they find themselves with men of rank, the more they affect such tricks.
Since nature has not made them women, as they seem to wish to appear and
be, they should be treated not as good women but as public harlots, and
driven not merely from the courts of great lords but from the society of
honest men.
20.—“Then coming to the bodily frame, I say it is enough if this be
neither extremely short nor tall, for both of these conditions excite a
certain contemptuous surprise, and men of either sort are gazed upon in
much the same way that we gaze on monsters. Yet if we must offend in one
of the two extremes, it is preferable to fall a little short of the just
measure of height than to exceed it, for besides often being dull of
intellect, men thus huge of body are also unfit for every exercise of
agility, which thing I should much wish in the Courtier. And so I would
have him well built and shapely of limb, and would have him show
strength and lightness and suppleness, and know all bodily exercises
that befit a man of war: whereof I think the first should be to handle
every sort of weapon well on foot and on horse, to understand the
advantages of each, and especially to be familiar with those weapons
that are ordinarily used among gentlemen; for besides the use of them in
war, where such subtlety in contrivance is perhaps not needful, there
frequently arise differences between one gentleman and another, which
afterwards result in duels often fought with such weapons as happen at
the moment to be within reach: thus knowledge of this kind is a very
safe thing. Nor am I one of those who say that skill is forgotten in the
hour of need; for he whose skill forsakes him at such a time, indeed
gives token that he has already lost heart and head through fear.
21.—“Moreover I deem it very important to know how to wrestle, for it is
a great help in the use of all kinds of weapons on foot. Then, both for
his own sake and for that of his friends, he must understand the
quarrels and differences that may arise, and must be quick to seize an
advantage, always showing courage and prudence in all things.[68] Nor
should he be too ready to fight except when honour demands it; for
besides the great danger that the uncertainty of fate entails, he who
rushes into such affairs recklessly and without urgent cause, merits the
severest censure even though he be successful. But when he finds himself
so far engaged that he cannot withdraw without reproach, he ought to be
most deliberate, both in the preliminaries to the duel and in the duel
itself, and always show readiness and daring. Nor must he act like some,
who fritter the affair away in disputes and controversies, and who,
having the choice of weapons, select those that neither cut nor pierce,
and arm themselves as if they were expecting a cannonade; and thinking
it enough not to be defeated, stand ever on the defensive and
retreat,—showing therein their utter cowardice. And thus they make
themselves a laughing-stock for boys, like those two men of Ancona who
fought at Perugia not long since, and made everyone laugh who saw them.”
“And who were they?” asked my lord Gaspar Pallavicino.
“Two cousins,” replied messer Cesare.
Then the Count said:
“In their fighting they were as like as two brothers;” and soon
continued: “Even in time of peace weapons are often used in various
exercises, and gentlemen appear in public shows before the people and
ladies and great lords. For this reason I would have our Courtier a
perfect horseman in every kind of seat; and besides understanding horses
and what pertains to riding, I would have him use all possible care and
diligence to lift himself a little beyond the rest in everything, so
that he may be ever recognized as eminent above all others. And as we
read of Alcibiades that he surpassed all the nations with whom he lived,
each in their particular province, so I would have this Courtier of ours
excel all others, and each in that which is most their profession. And
as it is the especial pride of the Italians to ride well with the rein,
to govern wild horses with consummate skill, and to play at tilting and
jousting,—in these things let him be among the best of the Italians. In
tourneys and in the arts of defence and attack, let him shine among the
best in France.[69] In stick-throwing, bull-fighting, and in casting
spears and darts, let him excel among the Spaniards. But above
everything he should temper all his movements with a certain good
judgment and grace, if he wishes to merit that universal favour which is
so greatly prized.
22.—“There are also many other exercises, which although not immediately
dependent upon arms, yet are closely connected therewith, and greatly
foster manly sturdiness; and one of the chief among these seems to me to
be the chase, because it bears a certain likeness to war: and truly it
is an amusement for great lords and befitting a man at court, and
furthermore it is seen to have been much cultivated among the ancients.
It is fitting also to know how to swim, to leap, to run, to throw
stones, for besides the use that may be made of this in war, a man often
has occasion to show what he can do in such matters; whence good esteem
is to be won, especially with the multitude, who must be taken into
account withal. Another admirable exercise, and one very befitting a man
at court, is the game of tennis, in which are well shown the disposition
of the body, the quickness and suppleness of every member, and all those
qualities that are seen in nearly every other exercise. Nor less highly
do I esteem vaulting on horse, which although it be fatiguing and
difficult, makes a man very light and dexterous more than any other
thing; and besides its utility, if this lightness is accompanied by
grace, it is to my thinking a finer show than any of the others.[70]
“Our Courtier having once become more than fairly expert in these
exercises, I think he should leave the others on one side: such as
turning summersaults, rope-walking, and the like, which savour of the
mountebank and little befit a gentleman.
“But since one cannot devote himself to such fatiguing exercises
continually, and since repetition becomes very tiresome and abates the
admiration felt for what is rare, we must always diversify our life with
various occupations. For this reason I would have our Courtier sometimes
descend to quieter and more tranquil exercises, and in order to escape
envy and to entertain himself agreeably with everyone, let him do
whatever others do, yet never departing from praiseworthy deeds, and
governing himself with that good judgment which will keep him from all
folly; but let him laugh, jest, banter, frolic and dance, yet in such
fashion that he shall always appear genial and discreet, and that
everything he may do or say shall be stamped with grace.”
23.—Then messer Cesare Gonzaga said:
“We certainly ought on no account to hinder the course of this
discussion; but if I were to keep silence, I should be neglectful both
of the right I have to speak and of my desire to know one thing: and let
me be pardoned if I ask a question instead of contradicting; for this I
think may be permitted me, after the precedent of messer Bernardo here,
who in his over desire to be held comely, broke the rules of our game by
asking a question instead of contradicting.”
Then my lady Duchess said:
“You see how one errour begets many. Therefore he who transgresses and
sets a bad example, like messer Bernardo, deserves to be punished not
only for his own transgression but also for the others’.”
Then messer Cesare replied:
“In that case, my Lady, I shall be exempt from penalty, since messer
Bernardo is to be punished for his own fault as well as mine.”
“Nay,” said my lady Duchess, “you both ought to have double punishment:
he for his own transgression and for leading you to transgress; you for
your own transgression and for imitating him.”
“My Lady,” replied messer Cesare, “as yet I have not transgressed; so,
to leave all this punishment to messer Bernardo alone, I will keep
silence.”
And indeed he remained silent; when my lady Emilia laughed and said:
“Say whatever you like, for under leave of my lady Duchess I pardon him
that has transgressed and him that shall transgress, in so small a
degree.”
“I consent,” continued my lady Duchess. “But take care lest perchance
you fall into the mistake of thinking to gain more by being merciful
than by being just; for to pardon him too easily that has transgressed
is to wrong him that transgresses not. Yet I would not have my severity
reproach your indulgence, and thus be the cause of our not hearing this
question of messer Cesare.”
And so, being given the signal by my lady Duchess and by my lady Emilia,
he at once said:
24.—“If I remember rightly, Sir Count, I think you have repeated several
times this evening that the Courtier must accompany his actions,
gestures, habits, in short his every movement, with grace; and this you
seem to regard as an universal seasoning, without which all other
properties and good qualities are of little worth. And indeed I think
that in this everyone would allow himself to be persuaded easily, since
from the very force of the word, it may be said that he who has grace
finds grace.[71] But since you said that this is oftentimes the gift of
nature and of heaven and, even when not thus perfect, can with care and
pains be made much greater,—those men who are born so fortunate and so
rich in this treasure as are some we see, seem to me in this to have
little need of other master; because that benign favour of heaven almost
in despite of themselves leads them higher than they will, and makes
them not only pleasing but admirable to all the world. Therefore I do
not discuss this, it not being in our power to acquire it of ourselves.
But they who have received from nature only so much, that they are
capable of becoming graceful by pains, industry and care,—I long to know
by what art, by what training, by what method, they can acquire this
grace, as well in bodily exercises (in which you esteem it to be so
necessary) as also in everything else that they may do or say.
Therefore, since by much praise of this quality you have aroused in all
of us, I think, an ardent thirst to pursue it, you are further bound, by
the charge that my lady Emilia laid upon you, to satisfy that thirst by
teaching us how to attain it.”
25.—“I am not bound,” said the Count, “to teach you how to become
graceful, or anything else; but only to show you what manner of man a
perfect Courtier ought to be. Nor would I in any case undertake the task
of teaching you this perfection; especially having said a little while
ago that the Courtier must know how to wrestle, vault, and do many other
things, which I am sure you all know quite as well as if I, who have
never learned them, were to teach you. For just as a good soldier knows
how to tell the smith what fashion, shape and quality his armour ought
to have, but cannot show how it is to be made or forged or tempered; so
I perhaps may be able to tell you what manner of man a perfect Courtier
ought to be, but cannot teach you what you must do to become one.
“Yet to comply with your request as far as is within my power,—although
it is almost a proverb that grace is not to be learned,—I say that
whoever would acquire grace in bodily exercises (assuming first that he
be by nature not incapable), ought to begin early and learn the
rudiments from the best masters. And how important this seemed to King
Philip of Macedon, may be seen from the fact that he chose Aristotle,
the famous philosopher and perhaps the greatest that has ever been in
the world, to teach his son Alexander the first elements of letters. And
of the men whom we know at the present day, consider how well and how
gracefully my lord Galeazzo Sanseverino,[72] Grand Equerry of France,
performs all bodily exercises; and this because in addition to the
natural aptitude of person that he possesses, he has taken the utmost
pains to study with good masters, and always to have about him men who
excel and to select from each the best of what they know: for just as in
wrestling, vaulting and in the use of many sorts of weapons, he has
taken for his guide our friend messer Pietro Monte, who (as you know) is
the true and only master of every form of trained strength and
agility,—so in riding, jousting and all else, he has ever had before his
eyes the most proficient men that were known in those matters.
[Illustration:
GALEAZZO SANSEVERINO
Married 1489
]
Reduced from Anderson’s photograph (no. 11129) of an anonymous and
unfinished portrait in the Ambrosiana Gallery at Milan. By some
critics attributed to Leonardo da Vinci, and by others to his pupil
Ambrogio da Predis, the picture was by Morelli regarded as having
nothing to do with either painter. It was formerly supposed to be a
portrait of Ludovico Sforza, Duke of Milan; for iconographical
identification, see Paul Müller-Walde’s article in the _Jahrbuch der
Königlich Preussischen Kunstsammlungen_ for 1897, p. 110.
26.—“Therefore he who wishes to be a good pupil, besides performing his
tasks well, must put forth every effort to resemble his master, and, if
it were possible, to transform himself into his master. And when he
feels that he has made some progress, it will be very profitable to
observe different men of the same calling, and governing himself with
that good judgment which must ever be his guide, to go about selecting
now this thing from one and that thing from another. And as the bee in
the green meadows is ever wont to rob the flowers among the grass, so
our Courtier must steal this grace from all who seem to possess it,
taking from each that part which shall most be worthy praise; and not
act like a friend of ours whom you all know, who thought he greatly
resembled King Ferdinand the Younger[32] of Aragon, and made it his care
to imitate the latter in nothing but a certain trick of continually
raising the head and twisting one side of the mouth, which the king had
contracted from some infirmity. And there are many such, who think they
gain a point if only they be like a great man in some thing; and
frequently they devote themselves to that which is his only fault.
“But having before now often considered whence this grace springs,
laying aside those men who have it by nature, I find one universal rule
concerning it, which seems to me worth more in this matter than any
other in all things human that are done or said: and that is to avoid
affectation to the uttermost and as it were a very sharp and dangerous
rock; and, to use possibly a new word, to practise in everything a
certain nonchalance[73] that shall conceal design and show that what is
done and said is done without effort and almost without thought. From
this I believe grace is in large measure derived, because everyone knows
the difficulty of those things that are rare and well done, and
therefore facility in them excites the highest admiration; while on the
other hand, to strive and as the saying is to drag by the hair, is
extremely ungraceful, and makes us esteem everything slightly, however
great it be.
“Accordingly we may affirm that to be true art which does not appear to
be art; nor to anything must we give greater care than to conceal art,
for if it is discovered, it quite destroys our credit and brings us into
small esteem. And I remember having once read that there were several
very excellent orators of antiquity, who among their other devices
strove to make everyone believe that they had no knowledge of letters;
and hiding their knowledge they pretended that their orations were
composed very simply and as if springing rather from nature and truth
than from study and art; the which, if it had been detected, would have
made men wary of being duped by it.
“Thus you see how the exhibition of art and study so intense destroys
the grace in everything. Which of you is there who does not laugh when
our friend messer Pierpaolo dances in his peculiar way, with those
capers of his,—legs stiff to the toe and head motionless, as if he were
a stick, and with such intentness that he actually seems to be counting
the steps? What eye so blind as not to see in this the ungracefulness of
affectation,—and in many men and women who are here present, the grace
of that nonchalant ease (for in the case of bodily movements many call
it thus), showing by word or laugh or gesture that they have no care and
are thinking more of everything else than of that, to make the onlooker
think they can hardly go amiss?”
27.—Messer Bernardo Bibbiena here said, without waiting:
“Now at last our friend messer Roberto[48] has found someone to praise
the manner of his dancing, as all the rest of you seem to value it
lightly; because if this merit consists in nonchalance, and in appearing
to take no heed and to be thinking more of everything else than of what
you are doing, messer Roberto in dancing has no peer on earth; for to
show plainly that he is not thinking about it, he often lets the cloak
drop from his shoulders and the slippers from his feet, and still goes
on dancing without picking up either the one or the other.”
Then the Count replied:
“Since you insist on my talking, I will speak further of our faults. Do
you not perceive that what you call nonchalance in messer Roberto, is
really affectation? For it is clearly seen that he is striving with all
his might to seem to be taking no thought, and this is taking too much
thought; and since it passes the true limits of moderation, his
nonchalance is affected and unbecoming; and it is a thing that works
precisely the reverse of the effect intended, that is the concealment of
art. Thus in nonchalance (which is praiseworthy in itself), I do not
think that it is less a vice of affectation to let the clothes fall from
one’s back, than in care of dress (which also is praiseworthy in itself)
to hold the head stiff for fear of disarranging one’s locks, or to carry
a mirrour in the peak of one’s cap and a comb in one’s sleeve, and to
have a valet follow one about the streets with sponge and brush: for
such care in dress and such nonchalance both touch upon excess, which is
always offensive and contrary to that pure and charming simplicity which
is so pleasing to the human mind.
“You see how ungraceful a rider is who strives to sit bolt upright in
the saddle after the manner we are wont to call Venetian,[74]—as
compared with another who seems not to be thinking about it, and sits
his horse as free and steady as if he were afoot. How much more pleasing
and how much more praised is a gentleman who carries arms, if he be
modest, speak little and boast little, than another who is forever
sounding his own praises, and with blasphemy and bluster seems to be
hurling defiance at the world! This too is naught but affectation of
wishing to appear bold. And so it is with every exercise, nay with
everything that can be done or said in the world.”
28.—Then my lord Magnifico[9] said:
“This is true also with music, wherein it is a very great fault to place
two perfect consonances one after the other, so that our very sense of
hearing abhors it and often enjoys a second or seventh, which in itself
is a harsh and intolerable discord. And the reason is that repetition of
perfect consonances begets satiety and exhibits a too affected harmony;
which is avoided by introducing imperfect consonances, and thus a kind
of contrast is given, whereby our ears are held more in suspense, and
more eagerly await and enjoy the perfect consonances, and sometimes
delight in that discord of the second or seventh, as in something
unpremeditated.”
“You see then,” replied the Count, “the harmful effect of affectation in
this as in other things. It is said also to have been proverbial among
some very excellent painters of antiquity, that over diligence is
harmful, and Protogenes is said to have been censured by Apelles because
he did not know when to take his hand from the tablet.”[75]
Then messer Cesare said:
“Methinks our friend fra Serafino has this same fault, of not knowing
when to take his hands from the table, at least until all the food has
been taken from it too.”[76]
The Count laughed, and continued:
“Apelles meant that in his painting Protogenes did not know when he had
finished, which was the same thing as reproving him for being affected
in his work. Thus this excellence, which is the opposite of affectation
and which for the present we call nonchalance, besides being the true
fountain from which grace springs, carries with it another ornament,
which, in accompanying any human action whatever and however trifling it
be, not only at once reveals the knowledge of him who performs it, but
often leads us to rate his knowledge as much greater than in fact it is;
because it impresses upon the minds of the bystanders the idea that he
who does well so easily, knows much more than he does, and that if he
were to use care and effort in what he did, he could do it far better.
“And to multiply like examples, here is a man who handles weapons,
either about to throw a dart or holding a sword in his hand or other
weapon; if he nimbly and without thinking puts himself in an attitude of
readiness, with such ease that his body and all his members seem to fall
into that posture naturally and quite without effort,—although he do no
more, he will prove himself to everyone to be perfect in that exercise.
Likewise in dancing, a single step, a single movement of the person that
is graceful and not forced, soon shows the knowledge of the dancer. A
musician who in singing utters a single note ending with sweet tone in a
little group of four notes with such ease as to seem spontaneous, shows
by that single touch that he can do much more than he is doing. Often
too in painting, a single line not laboured, a single brush-stroke
easily drawn, so that it seems as if the hand moves unbidden to its aim
according to the painter’s wish, without being guided by care or any
skill, clearly reveals the excellence of the craftsman, which every man
appreciates according to his capacity for judging. And the same is true
of nearly everything else.
“Our Courtier then will be esteemed excellent and will attain grace in
everything, particularly in speaking, if he avoids affectation; into
which fault many fall, and often more than others, some of us Lombards;
who, if they have been a year away from home, on their return at once
begin to speak Roman, sometimes Spanish or French, and God knows how.
And all this comes from over zeal to appear widely informed; in such
fashion do men devote care and assiduity to acquiring a very odious
fault. And truly it would be no light task for me, if I were to try in
these discussions of ours to use those antique Tuscan words that are
quite rejected by the usage of the Tuscans of to-day; and besides I
think everyone would laugh at me.”
29.—Then messer Federico said:
“Of course in discussing among ourselves as we now are doing, perhaps it
would be amiss to use those antique Tuscan words, since (as you say)
they would be fatiguing to him who uttered them and to him who listened
to them, and by many would not be understood without difficulty. But if
one were writing, I should certainly think he would be wrong not to use
them, because they add much grace and authority to writing, and from
them there results a style more grave and full of majesty than from
modern words.”
“I do not know,” replied the Count, “that writings can gain grace and
authority from those words that ought to be avoided, not merely in such
talk as we are now engaged in (which you yourself admit), but also under
every other circumstance that can be imagined. For if any man of good
judgment should chance to make a speech on serious matters before the
very senate of Florence, which is the capital of Tuscany, or even to
converse privately with a person of weight in that city about important
business, or with his closest friend about affairs of pleasure, with
ladies or gentlemen about love, or joking or jesting at feasts, games,
and where you will,—or whatever the time, place or matter,—I am sure he
would avoid using those antique Tuscan words; and if he did use them,
besides exciting ridicule, he would give no little annoyance to everyone
who listened to him.
“It seems to me then a very strange thing to use as good in writing
those words that are avoided as faulty in every sort of speaking, and to
insist that what is never proper in speaking, is the most proper style
that can be used in writing. For in my opinion writing is really nothing
but a form of speech, which still remains after we have spoken, as it
were an image or rather the life of our words: and thus in speech, which
is lost as soon as the sound has gone forth, some things are bearable
perhaps that are not in writing, because writing preserves the words and
subjects them to the judgment of the reader and gives time to consider
them advisedly. Hence in writing it is reasonable to take greater pains
to make it more refined and correct; not however in such wise that the
written words may be unlike the spoken, but that, in writing, choice be
made of the most beautiful that are used in speaking. And if that were
allowed in writing which is not allowed in speaking, I think a very
great inconvenience would arise: which is that greater license could be
taken in that respect wherein greater care ought to be taken; and the
industry bestowed on writing would work harm instead of good.
“Therefore it is certain that what is proper in writing, is proper also
in speaking, and that manner of speaking is most beautiful which is like
beautiful writing. Moreover I think it is far more necessary to be
understood in writing than in speaking, because those who write are not
always present before those who read, as those who speak are present
before those who hear.[77] But I should praise him, who besides avoiding
many antique Tuscan words, acquired facility, both writing and speaking,
in the use of those that are to-day familiar in Tuscany and in the other
parts of Italy, and that have comeliness of sound. And I think that
whoever imposes other rule upon himself, is not very sure of escaping
that affectation which is so much censured and of which we were speaking
earlier.”
30.—Then messer Federico said:
“Sir Count, I cannot gainsay you that writing is a kind of speech.
Indeed, I say that if words that are spoken have any obscurity in them,
the meaning does not penetrate the mind of him who hears, and passing
without being understood, comes to naught: which does not occur in
writing, because if the words that the writer uses carry with them a
little, I will not say difficulty, but subtlety that is recondite and
thus not so familiar as are the words that are commonly used in
speaking,—they give a certain greater authority to the writing, and
cause the reader to proceed more cautiously and collectedly, to consider
more, and to enjoy the genius and learning of him who writes; and by
judiciously exerting himself a little, he tastes that delight which is
found in the pursuit of difficult things. And if the ignorance of him
who reads is so great that he cannot overcome those difficulties, it is
not the fault of the writer, nor on this account ought that style to be
deemed unbeautiful.
“Therefore in writing, I believe it is proper to use Tuscan words used
only by the ancient Tuscans, because that is great proof and tested by
time, that they are good and effective to express the sense in which
they are used. And besides this, they have that grace and venerableness
which age lends not only to words, but to buildings, to statues, to
pictures, and to everything that is able to attain it, and often merely
by their splendour and dignity they make diction beautiful, by virtue
whereof (and of grace) every theme, however mean it be, can be so
adorned as to merit very high praise. But this custom of yours, by which
you set such store, seems to me very dangerous, and often it may be bad;
and if some fault of speech is found widely prevalent among the ignorant
many, methinks it ought not on this account to be taken as a rule and
followed by other men. Moreover customs are very diverse, nor is there a
noble city of Italy that has not a different manner of speaking from all
the others. But as you do not limit yourself to declaring which is the
best, a man might as well adopt the Bergamasque as the Florentine, and
according to you it would be no errour.[78]
“Therefore I think that whoever wishes to avoid all doubt and be quite
safe, must needs select as model someone who by consent of all is rated
good, and must take him as a constant guide and shield against any
possible adverse critic. And this model (in the vernacular, I mean) I do
not think should be other than Petrarch[79] and Boccaccio; and whoever
departs from these two, gropes like one who walks in the dark without a
light and thus often mistakes the road. But we are so daring that we do
not deign to do that which the good writers of old did,—that is, devote
themselves to imitation, without which I think a man cannot write
well.[80] And methinks good proof of this is shown us by Virgil, who by
his genius and judgment so divine took from all posterity the hope of
ever being able to imitate him well, yet fain would imitate Homer.”
31.—Then my lord Gaspar Pallavicino said:
“This discussion about writing is certainly well worth listening to:
still it would be more to our purpose if you were to teach us in what
manner the Courtier ought to speak, for I think he has greater need of
it and more often has occasion to employ speaking than writing.”
The Magnifico replied:
“Nay, for a Courtier so excellent and so perfect there is no doubt but
it is necessary to know both the one and the other, and that without
these two accomplishments perhaps all the rest would not be very worthy
of praise. So if the Count wishes to perform his duty, he will teach the
Courtier not only how to speak, but also how to write well.”
Then the Count said:
“My lord Magnifico, that task I will on no account accept; for great
folly would be mine to pretend to teach others that which I do not
myself know, and (even if I did know it) to think myself able to do in
only a few words that which with so much care and pains has hardly been
done by most learned men,—to whose works I should refer our Courtier, if
I were indeed bound to teach him how to write and speak.”
Messer Cesare said:
“My lord Magnifico means speaking and writing the vernacular [Italian],
and not Latin; so those works by learned men are not to our purpose. But
in this matter there is need for you to tell us what you know about it,
because for the rest we will hold you excused.”
The Count replied:
“I have told you that already; but as we are speaking of the Tuscan
tongue, perhaps it would be, more than any other man’s, my lord
Magnifico’s office to give an opinion on it.”
The Magnifico said:
“I cannot and in reason ought not to contradict any man who says that
the Tuscan tongue is more beautiful than the others.[81] It is very true
that in Petrarch and in Boccaccio are found many words that are now
discarded by the custom of to-day; and these I for my part would never
use either in speaking or in writing; and I believe that they
themselves, if they had survived until now, would no longer use those
words.”
Then messer Federico said:
“Indeed they would. And you Tuscan gentlemen ought to keep up your
mother tongue, and not suffer it to decay, as you do,—so that now one
may say that there is less knowledge of it in Florence than in many
other parts of Italy.”
Then messer Bernardo said:
“These words that are no longer used in Florence have survived among the
country folk, and are rejected by the gentle as corrupt and spoiled with
age.”
32.—Then my lady Duchess said:
“Let us not wander from our main purpose, but have Count Ludovico teach
the Courtier how to speak and write well, whether it be in the Tuscan or
any other dialect.”
“My Lady,” replied the Count, “I have already told what I know about it;
and I hold that the same rules which serve to teach the one, serve also
to teach the other. But since you require it of me, I will make such
response as I may to messer Federico, who has a different opinion from
mine; and perhaps I shall have need to discuss the matter somewhat more
diffusely than is right. However, it shall be all I can tell.
“And first I say that in my judgment this language of ours, which we
call vulgar, is still tender and new, although it be already long in
use. For since Italy was not only vexed and ravaged but long inhabited
by the barbarians, the Latin language was corrupted and spoiled by
contact with those nations, and from that corruption other languages
were born: and like rivers that from the crest of the Apennines separate
and flow down into the two seas, so also these languages divided, and
some of them tinged with Latinity reached by diverse paths, one this
country and one that; and one of them remained in Italy tinged with
barbarism. Thus our language was long unformed and various, from having
had no one to bestow care upon it or write in it or try to give it
splendour or grace: but afterwards it was somewhat more cultivated in
Tuscany than in the other parts of Italy. And so its flower seems to
have remained there even from those early times, because that nation
more than the others preserved a sweet accent and a proper grammatical
order, and have had three noble writers[82] who expressed their thoughts
ingeniously and in those words and terms that the custom of their times
permitted: wherein I think Petrarch succeeded more happily than the
others in amourous subjects.
“Afterwards from time to time, not only in Tuscany but in all Italy,
among noble men and those well versed in courts and arms and letters,
there arose some desire to speak and write more elegantly than had been
done in that rude and uncultivated age, when the blaze of the calamities
inflicted by the barbarians was not yet quenched. Many words were laid
aside, as well in the city of Florence itself and in all Tuscany as in
the rest of Italy, and instead of them others were taken up; and herein
there thus occurred that change which takes place in all human affairs
and has always happened in the case of the other languages also. For if
those earliest writings in ancient Latin had survived until now, we
should see that Evander and Turnus[83] and the other Latins of that age
spoke differently from the last Roman kings and the first consuls. See
how the verses that the Salian priests chaunted were hardly understood
by posterity;[84] but being established in that form by the first
founders, out of religious reverence they were not changed. Likewise the
orators and poets continued one after another to lay aside many words
used by their predecessors: thus Antonius, Crassus, Hortensius and
Cicero avoided many of Cato’s words, and Virgil avoided many of
Ennius’s;[85] and the others did the same. For although they had
reverence for antiquity, yet they did not esteem it so highly as to
consent to be bound by it in the way you would have us bound by it now.
Nay they criticised it where they saw fit, as did Horace, who says that
his forefathers lauded Plautus foolishly, and thinks he has a right to
gather in new words.[86] And in sundry places Cicero reprehends many of
his predecessors, and slightingly affirms that Sergius Galba’s orations
had an antique flavour,[87] and says that Ennius himself disprized his
predecessors in certain things: so that if we would imitate the
ancients, in doing so we shall not imitate them. And Virgil, who (you
say) imitated Homer, did not imitate him in language.
33.—“Therefore I for my part should always avoid using these antique
words, save however in certain places, and seldom even there; and it
seems to me that whoever uses them otherwise makes a mistake, not less
than he who, in order to imitate the ancients, should wish to feed on
acorns when wheat had been discovered in plenty. And since you say that
by their mere splendour of antiquity, antique words so adorn every
subject, however mean it be, that they can make it worthy of much
praise,—I say that I do not set such store, not only by these antique
words but even by good ones, as to think that they ought in reason to be
prized without the pith of beautiful thoughts; for to divide thought
from words is to divide soul from body, which can be done in neither
case without destruction.
“So I think that what is chiefly important and necessary for the
Courtier, in order to speak and write well, is knowledge; for he who is
ignorant and has nothing in his mind that merits being heard, can
neither say it nor write it.
“Next he must arrange in good order what he has to say or write; then
express it well in words, which (if I do not err) ought to be precise,
choice, rich and rightly formed, but above all, in use even among the
masses; because such words as these make the grandeur and pomp of
speech, if the speaker has good sense and carefulness, and knows how to
choose the words most expressive of his meaning, and to exalt them, to
mould them like wax to his will, and to arrange them in such position
and order that they shall at a glance show and make known their dignity
and splendour, like pictures placed in good and proper light.
“And this I say as well of writing as of speaking: in which however some
things are required that are not needful in writing,—such as a good
voice, not too thin and soft like a woman’s, nor yet so stern and rough
as to smack of the rustic’s,—but sonorous, clear, sweet and well
sounding, with distinct enunciation, and with proper bearing and
gestures; which I think consist in certain movements of the whole body,
not affected or violent, but tempered by a calm face and with a play of
the eyes that shall give an effect of grace, accord with the words, and
as far as possible express also, together with the gestures, the
speaker’s intent and feeling.
“But all these things would be vain and of small moment, if the thoughts
expressed by the words were not beautiful, ingenious, acute, elegant and
grave,—according to the need.”
34.—Then my lord Morello said:
“If this Courtier speaks with so much elegance and grace, I doubt if
anyone will be found among us who will understand him.”
“Nay, he will be understood by everyone,” replied the Count, “because
facility is no impediment to elegance.
“Nor would I have him speak always of grave matters, but of amusing
things, of games, jests and waggery, according to the occasion; but
sensibly of everything, and with readiness and lucid fullness; and in no
place let him show vanity or childish folly. And again when he is
speaking on an obscure or difficult subject, I would have him carefully
explain his meaning with precision of both word and thought, and make
every ambiguity clear and plain with a certain touch of unpedantic care.
Likewise, where there is occasion, let him know how to speak with
dignity and force, to arouse those emotions that are part of our nature,
and to kindle them or to move them according to the need. Sometimes,
with that simple candour that makes it seem as if nature herself were
speaking, let him know how to soften them, and as it were to intoxicate
them with sweetness, and so easily withal that the listener shall think
that with very little effort he too could reach that excellence, and
when he tries, shall find himself very far behind.
“In such fashion would I have our Courtier speak and write; and not only
choose rich and elegant words from every part of Italy, but I should
even praise him for sometimes using some of those French and Spanish
terms that are already accepted by our custom.[88] Thus it would not
displease me if on occasion he were to say, _primor_ (excellence); or
_acertare_ (to succeed), _aventurare_ (to run a risk successfully); or
_ripassare una persona con ragionamento_, meaning to sound a person and
to talk with him in order to gain perfect knowledge of him; or _un
cavalier senza rimproccio_ (a cavalier without reproach), _attilato_
(elegant), _creato d’un principe_ (a prince’s creature), and other like
terms, provided he might hope to be understood.[89]
“Sometimes I would have him use a few words in a sense other than that
proper to them, to transpose them aptly, and as it were to graft them,
like the branch of a tree, upon a more appropriate trunk,—so as to make
them more attractive and beautiful, and as it were to bring things
within the range of our vision, and within hand-touch as we say, to the
delight of him who hears or reads. Nor would I have him scruple to form
new words and in new figures of speech, deriving them tastefully from
the Latins, as of old the Latins derived them from the Greeks.
35.—“Now if among the lettered men of good talent and judgment who
to-day are found in our midst, there were a few who would take care to
write in this language (as I have described) things worthy of being
read, we should soon see it studied and abounding in beautiful terms and
figures, and capable of being written in as well as is any other
whatsoever; and if it were not pure old Tuscan, it would be
Italian,—universal, copious and varied, and in a way like a delightful
garden full of various flowers and fruits. Nor would this be a novel
thing; for from the four dialects that the Greek writers had in use,[90]
they culled words, forms and figures from each as they saw fit, and
thence they brought forth another dialect which was called ‘common,’ and
later they called all five by the single name Greek. And although the
Attic dialect was more elegant, pure and copious than the others, good
writers who were not Athenians by birth did not so affect it as to be
unrecognizable by their style and by the perfume (as it were) and
essence of their native speech. Nor yet were they disprized for this; on
the contrary those who tried to seem too Athenian, were censured for it.
Among the Latin writers too, many non-Romans were highly esteemed in
their day, although there was not found in them that typical purity of
the Roman tongue which men of other race can rarely acquire. Thus Titus
Livius was not at all discarded, although someone professed to have
detected a Paduan flavour in him;[91] nor was Virgil, albeit reproached
with not speaking Roman. Moreover, as you know, many writers of
barbarian race were read and esteemed at Rome.
“We, on the contrary, much more strict than the ancients, needlessly
impose certain new laws upon ourselves, and with the beaten highways
before our eyes, we seek to go along the by-paths; for in our own
language,—of which, as of all others, the office is to express thought
well and clearly,—we delight ourselves with obscurity; and calling it
the vulgar tongue, we try in speaking it to use words that are
understood neither by the vulgar nor yet by the gentle and lettered, and
are no longer used in any place; unmindful that all the good writers of
old disapproved words discarded by custom. Which to my thinking, you do
not rightly understand; since you say that if some fault of speech is
widely prevalent among the ignorant, it ought not for that reason to be
called custom or accepted as a rule of speech, and from what I have
heard you sometimes say, you would have us use _Campidoglio_ in place of
_Capitolio_; _Girolamo_ for _Hieronymo_; _aldace_ for _audace_; and
_padrone_ for _patrone_, and other words corrupt and spoiled like these;
because they are found written thus by some ignorant old Tuscan, and
because the Tuscan country folk speak thus to-day.[92]
“Hence I believe that good custom in speech springs from men who have
talent and who have gained good judgment from study and experience, and
who therefore agree and consent to accept the words that to them seem
good, which are recognized by a certain innate judgment and not by any
art or rule. Do you not know that figures of speech, which give so much
grace and splendour to an oration, are all infringements of grammatical
rules, yet accepted and confirmed by usage, because, although unable to
offer other reason, they give pleasure and seem to carry suavity and
sweetness to our very sense of hearing? And this I believe to be good
custom,—of which the Romans, the Neapolitans, the Lombards and the rest,
may be as capable as the Tuscans are.
36.—“It is very true that in every language certain things are always
good, such as ease, good order, richness, beautiful sentences,
harmonious periods; and on the contrary affectation and other things
opposed to these, are bad. But among words there are some that remain
good for a time, then grow antiquated and wholly lose their grace;
others gain strength and come to be esteemed. For as the seasons of the
year despoil the earth of flowers and fruits and then clothe it anew
with others, so time causes those primal words to decay, and use makes
others to be born again and gives them grace and dignity, until they in
their turn meet their death, consumed by the envious gnawing of time;
for in the end both we and all our concerns are mortal. Consider that we
no longer have any knowledge of the Oscan tongue.[93] The Provençal,
although it may be said to have been but lately celebrated by noble
writers, is not now understood by the inhabitants of that country. Hence
I think, as my lord Magnifico has well said, that if Petrarch and
Boccaccio were alive at this time, they would not use many words that we
find in their writings: therefore it does not seem to me well for us to
copy these words. I applaud very highly those who know how to imitate
that which ought to be imitated, but I do not at all believe that it is
impossible to write well without imitating,—and particularly in this
language of ours, wherein we may be aided by usage: which I should not
dare say of Latin.”
37.—The messer Federico said:
“Why would you have usage more esteemed in the vernacular than in
Latin?”
“Nay,” replied the Count, “I esteem usage as mistress of both the one
and the other. But since those men to whom the Latin tongue was as
natural as the vernacular now is to us, are no longer on earth, we must
needs learn from their writings that which they learned from usage. Nor
does ancient speech mean anything more than ancient usage of speech, and
it would be a silly business to like ancient speech for no other reason
than a wish to speak as men used to speak rather than as they now
speak.”
“Then,” replied messer Federico, “the ancients did not imitate?”
“I believe,” said the Count, “that many of them did, but not in
everything. And if Virgil had imitated Hesiod in everything, he would
not have surpassed his master; nor Cicero, Crassus; nor Ennius, his
predecessors. You know Homer is so ancient that many believe he is the
first heroic poet in time as he is also in excellence of diction: and
whom would you think he imitated?”
“Some other poet,” replied messer Federico, “more ancient than he, of
whom we have no knowledge because of excessive antiquity.”
“Then whom,” said the Count, “would you say Petrarch and Boccaccio
imitated, who were on earth only three days since, one may say?”
“I know not,” replied messer Federico; “but we may believe that even
their minds were directed to imitation, although we do not know of
whom.”
The Count replied:
“We may believe that they who were imitated, surpassed those who
imitated them; and if they were admirable, it would be too great a
marvel that their name and fame should be so soon extinguished. But I
believe that their real master was aptitude and their own native
judgment; and at this there is no one who ought to wonder, since nearly
always the summit of every excellence may be approached by diverse
roads. Nor is there anything that has not in it many things of the same
sort which are dissimilar and yet intrinsically deserving of equal
praise.
“Consider music, the harmonies of which are now grave and slow, now very
fast and of novel moods and means; yet all give pleasure, albeit for
different reasons: as is seen in Bidon’s[94] manner of singing, which is
so skilful, ready, vehement, fervid, and of such varied melodies, that
the listener’s spirits are moved and inflamed, and thus entranced seem
to be lifted up to heaven. Nor does our friend Marchetto Cara[95] move
us less by his singing, but with a gentler harmony; because he softens
and penetrates our souls by placid means and full of plaintive
sweetness, gently stirring them to sweet emotion.
“Again, various things give equal pleasure to our eyes, so that we can
with difficulty decide which are more pleasing to them. You know that in
painting Leonardo da Vinci,[96] Mantegna,[97] Raphael,[98] Michelangelo,
[99] Giorgio da Castelfranco,[100] are very excellent, yet they are all
unlike in their work; so that no one of them seems to lack anything in
his own manner, since each is known as most perfect in his style.
[Illustration:
ANGELO AMBROGINI
POLIZIANO
1454-1494
]
Reduced from Anderson’s photograph (no. 8148) of a part of the fresco,
“Zacharias in the Temple,” in the Church of Santa Maria Novella at
Florence, by Domenico Bigordi, better known as Ghirlandajo,
(1449-1494).
“It is the same with many Greek and Latin poets, who, although different
in their writing, are equal in their fame. The orators, too, have always
had so much diversity among themselves, that almost every age has
produced and prized a type of orator peculiar to its own time; and these
have been different not only from their predecessors and successors, but
from one another: as it is written of Isocrates, Lysias, Æschines,[101]
and many others among the Greeks,—all excellent, yet each resembling no
one but himself. So, among the Latins, Carbo, Lælius, Scipio Africanus,
Galba, Sulpicius, Cotta, Gracchus, Marcus Antonius, Crassus,[102] and so
many others that it would be tedious to name them,—all good and very
different one from another; so that if a man were able to consider all
the orators that have been in the world, he would find as many kinds of
oratory as of orators. I think I remember too that Cicero in a certain
place[103] makes Marcus Antonius say to Sulpicius that there are many
who imitate no man and yet arrive at the highest pitch of excellence;
and he speaks of certain ones who had introduced a new form and figure
of speech, beautiful but not usual among the orators of that time,
wherein they imitated no one but themselves. For that reason he affirms
also that masters ought to consider the pupils’ nature, and taking this
as guide ought to direct and aid them to the path towards which their
aptitude and natural disposition incline them. Hence I believe, dear
messer Federico, that if a man has no innate affinity for any particular
author, it is not well to force him to imitate, because the vigour[104]
of his faculty languishes and is impeded when turned from the channel in
which it would have made progress had that channel not been barred.
“Therefore I do not see how it can be well, instead of enriching this
language of ours and giving it spirit and grandeur and light, to make it
poor, thin, humble and obscure, and to try to restrict it in such narrow
bounds that everyone shall be forced to imitate Petrarch and Boccaccio
alone; and how, in respect of language, we ought not also to give
credence to Poliziano,[105] to Lorenzo de’ Medici,[106] to Francesco
Diacceto,[107] and to some others who are also Tuscans and perhaps of no
less learning and judgment than were Petrarch and Boccaccio. And great
pity would it be indeed to set a limit, and not to surpass that which
almost the earliest writers achieved, and to deny that so many men of
such noble genius can ever find more than one beautiful form of
expression in this language which is proper and natural to them. But
to-day there are certain scrupulous souls, who so frighten the listener
with the cult and ineffable mysteries of this Tuscan tongue of theirs,
as to put even many a noble and learned man in such fear, that he dare
not open his mouth and confesses that he does not know how to speak the
very language which he learned in swaddling clothes from his nurse.
“However I think we have said only too much of this; so now let us go on
with our discussion about the Courtier.”
38.—Then messer Federico replied:
“I should first like to say one thing more, which is that I do not deny
men’s opinions and aptitudes to be different among themselves. Nor do I
believe that it would be well for a naturally vehement and excitable man
to set himself to write of placid themes, or for another, being severe
and grave, to write jests; for in this matter it seems to me reasonable
that everyone should adapt himself to his own proper instinct. And I
think Cicero was speaking of this when he said that masters ought to
have regard to their pupils’ nature, in order not to act like bad
husbandmen, who will sometimes sow grain in land that is fruitful only
for the vine.
“Still I cannot get it into my head why, in the case of a particular
language,—which is not proper to all men equally, like speech and
thought and many other functions, but an invention of limited use,—it is
not more rational to imitate those who speak better, than to speak at
random; or why, just as in Latin we ought to try to approach the
language of Virgil and Cicero rather than that of Silius or Cornelius
Tacitus,[108] it is not better in the vernacular also to imitate the
language of Petrarch and Boccaccio than any other’s; yet to express our
thoughts in it well, and thus to give heed to our own natural instinct,
as Cicero teaches. And in this way it will be found that the difference
which you say there is among good orators, consists in sense and not in
language.”
Then the Count said:
“I fear we shall be entering on a wide sea, and shall be leaving our
first subject of the Courtier. However, I ask you in what consists the
excellence of this language?”
Messer Federico replied:
“In preserving strictly its proprieties, in giving it that sense, and in
using that style and those rhythms, which have been used by all who have
written well.”
“I should like to know,” said the Count, “whether this style and these
rhythms of which you speak, arise from the thought or from the words.”
“From the words,” replied messer Federico.
“Then,” said the Count, “do not the words of Silius and Cornelius
Tacitus seem to you the same that Virgil and Cicero use? and employed in
the same sense?”
“Certainly they are the same,” replied messer Federico, “but some of
them wrongly applied and turned awry.”
The Count replied:
“And if from a book of Cornelius and from one of Silius, all those words
were removed that are used in a sense different from that of Virgil and
Cicero, which would be very few,—would you not then say that Cornelius
was the equal of Cicero in language, and Silius of Virgil, and that it
would be well to imitate their manner of speech?”
39.—Then my lady Emilia said:
“Methinks this debate of yours is far too long and tedious; therefore it
were well to postpone it to another time.”
Messer Federico was about to reply none the less, but my lady Emilia
always interrupted him. At last the Count said:
“Many men like to pass judgment upon style and to talk about rhythms and
imitation; but they cannot make it at all clear to me what manner of
thing style or rhythm is, or in what imitation consists, or why things
taken from Homer or from someone else are so becoming in Virgil that
they seem illumined rather than imitated. Perhaps this is because I am
not capable of understanding them; but since a good sign that a man
knows a thing, is his ability to teach it, I suspect that they too
understand it but little, and that they praise both Virgil and Cicero
because they hear such praise from many, not because they perceive the
difference that exists between these two and others: for in truth it
does not consist in preserving two or three or ten words used in a way
different from the others.
“In Sallust, Cæsar, Varro[109] and the other good writers, some terms
are found used differently from the way Cicero uses them; and yet both
ways are proper, for the excellence and force of a language lie in no
such trifling matter: as Demosthenes well said to Æschines, who
tauntingly asked him whether certain words that he had used (although
not Attic) were prodigies or portents; and Demosthenes laughed and
replied that the fortunes of Greece did not hang on such a trifle. So I
too should care little if I were reproved by a Tuscan for having said
_satisfatto_ rather than _sodisfatto_, _honorevole_ for _horrevole_,
_causa_ for _cagione_, _populo_ for _popolo_, and the like.”
Then messer Federico rose to his feet and said:
“Hear me these few words, I pray.”
“The pain of my displeasure,” replied my lady Emilia, laughing, “be upon
him who speaks more of this matter now, for I wish to postpone it to
another evening. But do you, Count, go on with the discussion about the
Courtier,—and show us what a fine memory you have, which I think you
will do in no small measure, if you are able to take up the discussion
where you left it.”
40.—“My Lady,” replied the Count, “I fear the thread is broken; yet if I
am not wrong, methinks we were saying that the pest of affectation
imparts extreme ungracefulness to everything, while on the other hand
simplicity and nonchalance produce the height of grace: in praise of
which, and in blame of affectation, we might cite many other arguments;
but of these I wish to add only one, and no more. Women are always very
eager to be—and when they cannot be, at least to seem—beautiful. So
where nature is somewhat at fault in this regard, they try to piece it
out by artifice; whence arise that painting of the face with so much
care and sometimes pains, that plucking of the eyebrows and forehead,
and the use of all those devices and the endurance of that trouble,
which you ladies think to keep very secret from men, but which are all
well known.”
Here madonna Costanza Fregosa laughed and said:
“It would be far more courteous for you to keep to your discussion, and
tell us of what grace is born, and talk about Courtiership,—than to try
to unveil the weaknesses of women, which are not to the purpose.”
“Nay, much to the purpose,” replied the Count: “for these weaknesses of
yours I am speaking of, deprive you of grace because they spring from
nothing but affectation, wherein you openly make known to everyone your
over-eagerness to be beautiful.
“Do you not see how much more grace a lady has who paints (if at all) so
sparingly and so little, that whoever sees her is in doubt whether she
be painted or not; than another lady so plastered that she seems to have
put a mask upon her face and dares not laugh for fear of cracking it,
nor ever changes colour but when she dresses in the morning, and then
stands motionless all the rest of the day like a wooden image, showing
herself only by candle-light, like wily merchants who display their
cloths in a dark place? Again, how much more pleasing than all others is
one (I mean not ill-favoured) who is plainly seen to have nothing on her
face, although it be neither very white nor very red, but by nature a
little pale and sometimes tinged with an honest flush from shame or
other accident,—with hair artlessly unadorned and hardly confined, her
gestures simple and free, without showing care or wish to be beautiful!
This is that nonchalant simplicity most pleasing to the eyes and minds
of men, who are ever fearful of being deceived by art.
“Beautiful teeth are very charming in a woman, for since they are not so
much in view as the face is, but lie hidden most of the time, we may
believe that less care is taken to make them beautiful than with the
face. Yet if one were to laugh without cause and solely to display the
teeth, he would betray his art, and however beautiful they were, would
seem most ungraceful to all, like Catullus’s Egnatius.[110] It is the
same with the hands; which, if they are delicate and beautiful, and
occasionally left bare when there is need to use them, and not in order
to display their beauty, they leave a very great desire to see more of
them, and especially if covered with gloves again; for whoever covers
them seems to have little care or thought whether they be seen or not,
and to have them thus beautiful more by nature than by any effort or
pains.
“Have you ever noticed when a woman, in passing through the street to
church or elsewhere, thoughtlessly happens (either in frolic or from
other cause) to lift her dress high enough to show the foot and often a
little of the leg? Does this not seem to you full of grace, when you see
her tricked out with a touch of feminine daintiness in velvet shoes and
neat stockings? I for one delight in it and believe you all do, for
everyone is persuaded that elegance, in matters thus hidden and rarely
seen, is natural and instinctive to the lady rather than forced, and
that she does not think to win any praise by it.
41.—“In this way we avoid and hide affectation, and you can now see how
opposed and destructive it is to grace in every office as well of the
body as the mind: whereof we have thus far spoken little, and yet we
must not omit it, for since the mind is of far more worth than the body,
it deserves to be more cultivated and adorned. And as to what ought to
be done in the case of our Courtier, we will lay aside the precepts of
the many sage philosophers who write of this matter and define the
properties of the mind and discuss so subtly about their rank,—and
keeping to our subject, we will in a few words declare it to be enough
that he be (as we say) an honest and upright man; for in this are
included prudence, goodness, strength and temperance of mind, and all
the other qualities that are proper to a name so honoured. And I esteem
him alone to be a true moral philosopher, who wishes to be good; and in
this regard he needs few other precepts than that wish. And therefore
Socrates was right in saying that he thought his teachings bore good
fruit indeed whenever they incited anyone to understand and teach
virtue: for they who have reached the goal of desiring nothing more
ardently than to be good, easily acquire knowledge of everything needful
therefor; so we will discuss this no further.
42.—“Yet besides goodness, I think that letters are for everyone the
true and principal ornament of the mind: although the French recognize
only the nobility of arms and esteem all else as naught. Thus they not
only fail to prize but they abhor letters, and hold all men of letters
most base, and think they speak very basely of any man when they call
him a clerk.”
[Illustration:
MONSEIGNEUR D’ANGOULÊME
AFTERWARD FRANCIS I OF FRANCE
1494-1547
]
Enlarged from a negative, specially made by Alinari through the courtesy
of Professor I. B. Supino, of an anonymous medal in the National
Museum at Florence.
Then the Magnifico Giuliano replied:
“You say truly, that this fault has long been prevalent among the
French. But if kind fate decrees that Monseigneur d’Angoulême[111] shall
succeed to the crown, as is hoped, I think that just as the glory of
arms flourishes and shines in France, so too ought that of letters to
flourish in highest state; for it is not long since I, being at the
court, saw this prince, and it seemed to me that besides the grace of
his person and the beauty of his face, he had in his aspect such
loftiness, joined however with a certain gracious humanity, that the
realm of France must always seem small for him. I heard afterwards from
many gentlemen, both French and Italian, of his very noble manner of
life, of his loftiness of mind, of his valour and liberality. And among
other things I was told that he loved and esteemed letters especially
and held all men of letters in greatest honour; and he condemned the
French themselves for being so hostile to this profession, especially as
they have within their borders such a noble school as that of Paris,
frequented by all the world.”[112]
Then the Count said:
“It is a great marvel that in such tender youth, solely by natural
instinct and against the usage of his country, he has of himself chosen
so worthy a path. And as subjects always copy the customs of their
superiours, it may be that, as you say, the French will yet come to
esteem letters at their true worth: whereto they may easily be
persuaded, if they will but listen to reason; since nothing is by nature
more desirable for men, or more proper to them, than knowledge, which it
is great folly to say or believe is not always a good thing.
43.—“And if I were speaking with them, or with others who had an opinion
contrary to mine, I should strive to show them how useful and necessary
letters are to our life and dignity, having indeed been granted by God
to men as a crowning gift. Nor should I lack instances of many excellent
commanders of antiquity, who all added the ornament of letters to the
valour of their arms.
“Thus you know Alexander held Homer in such veneration that he always
kept the Iliad by his bedside; and he devoted the greatest attention not
only to these studies but to philosophical speculation under Aristotle’s
guidance. Alcibiades enlarged his natural aptitudes and made them
greater by means of letters and the teachings of Socrates. The care that
Cæsar gave to study is also attested by the surviving works that he
divinely wrote. It is said that Scipio Africanus always kept in his hand
the works of Xenophon, wherein the perfect king is portrayed under the
name of Cyrus. I could tell you of Lucullus, Sulla, Pompey, Brutus,[113]
and many other Romans and Greeks; but I will merely remind you that
Hannibal, the illustrious commander,—although fierce by nature and a
stranger to all humanity, faithless and a despiser of both men and
gods,—yet had knowledge of letters and was conversant with the Greek
language; and if I mistake not, I once read that he even left a book
composed by him in Greek.
“However it is superfluous to tell you this, for I well know that you
all see how wrong the French are in thinking that letters are injurious
to arms. You know that glory is the true stimulus to great and hazardous
deeds of war, and whoso is moved thereto by gain or other motive,
besides doing nothing good, deserves not to be called a gentleman, but a
base trafficker. And true glory is that which is preserved in the sacred
treasure-house of letters, as everyone may understand except those
unfortunates who have never enjoyed them.
“What soul is there so abject, timid and humble, that when he reads of
the deeds of Cæsar, Alexander, Scipio, Hannibal, and many others, is not
inflamed by an ardent desire to be like them, and does not make small
account of this frail two days’ life, in order to win the almost eternal
life of fame, which in spite of death makes him live in far greater
glory than before? But he who does not feel the delight of letters,
cannot either know how great is the glory they so long preserve, and
measures it by the life of one man or two, because his memory runs no
further. Hence he cannot esteem this short-lived glory so much as he
would that almost eternal glory if knowledge of it were unhappily not
denied him, and as he does not esteem it so much, we may reasonably
believe that he will not run such danger to pursue it as one who knew it
would.
“I should be far from willing to have an antagonist cite instances to
the contrary in refutation of my view, and urge upon me that with all
their knowledge of letters the Italians have for some time since shown
little martial valour,—which is alas only too true.[114] But it very
certainly might be said that the fault of a few has brought not only
grievous harm but eternal obloquy upon all the rest; and from them was
derived the true cause of our ruin and of the decadence if not the death
of valour in our souls: yet it would be far more shameful in us to
publish it, than for the French to be ignorant of letters. Therefore it
is better to pass over in silence that which cannot be recalled without
pain: and avoiding this subject (upon which I entered against my will)
to return to our Courtier.
44.—“I would have him more than passably accomplished in letters, at
least in those studies that are called the humanities, and conversant
not only with the Latin language but with the Greek, for the sake of the
many different things that have been admirably written therein.[115] Let
him be well versed in the poets, and not less in the orators and
historians, and also proficient in writing verse and prose, especially
in this vulgar tongue of ours;[116] for besides the enjoyment he will
find in it, he will by this means never lack agreeable entertainment
with ladies,[117] who are usually fond of such things. And if other
occupations or want of study prevent his reaching such perfection as to
render his writings worthy of great praise, let him be careful to
suppress them so that others may not laugh at him, and let him show them
only to a friend whom he can trust: because they will at least be of
this service to him, that the exercise will enable him to judge the work
of others. For it very rarely happens that a man who is not accustomed
to write, however learned he may be, can ever quite appreciate the toil
and industry of writers, or taste the sweetness and excellence of style,
and those latent niceties that are often found in the ancients.
“Moreover these studies will also make him fluent, and as Aristippus
said to the tyrant, confident and assured in speaking with
everyone.[118] Hence I would have our Courtier keep one precept fixed in
mind; which is that in this and everything else he should be always on
his guard, and diffident rather than forward, and that he should keep
from falsely persuading himself that he knows that which he does not
know. For by nature we all are fonder of praise than we ought to be, and
our ears love the melody of words that praise us more than any other
sweet song or sound; and thus, like sirens’ voices, they are often the
cause of shipwreck to him who does not close his ears to such deceptive
harmony. Among the ancient sages this danger was recognized, and books
were written showing in what way the true friend may be distinguished
from the flatterer.[119] But what does this avail, if there be many, nay
a host, of those who clearly perceive that they are flattered, yet love
him who flatters them, and hold him in hatred who tells them the truth?
And often when they find him who praises them too sparing in his words,
they even help him and say such things of themselves, that the flatterer
is put to shame, most impudent though he be.
“Let us leave these blind ones to their errour, and have our Courtier of
such good judgment that he will not take black for white, or have more
self-confidence than he clearly knows to be well founded; and especially
in those peculiarities which (if you remember) messer Cesare in his game
said we had often used as an instrument to bring men’s folly to light.
On the contrary, even if he well knows the praises bestowed upon him to
be true, let him not err by accepting them too openly or confirming them
without some protest; but rather let him as it were disclaim them
modestly, always showing and really esteeming arms as his chief
profession, and all other good accomplishments as an ornament thereto.
And particularly among soldiers let him not act like those who insist on
seeming soldiers in learning, and learned men among soldiers. In this
way, for the reasons we have alleged, he will avoid affectation, and
even the middling things that he does, shall seem very great.”
45.—Messer Pietro Bembo here replied:
“Count, I do not see why you insist that this Courtier, being lettered
and endowed with so many other admirable accomplishments, should hold
everything as an ornament of arms, and not arms and the rest as an
ornament of letters; which without other accompaniment are as superiour
in dignity to arms, as the mind is to the body, for the practice of them
properly pertains to the mind, as that of arms does to the body.”
Then the Count replied:
“Nay, the practice of arms pertains to both mind and body. But I would
not have you judge in such a cause, messer Pietro, for you would be too
much suspected of bias by one of the two sides: and as the controversy
has already been long waged by very wise men, there is no need to renew
it; but I regard it as settled in favour of arms, and would have our
Courtier so regard it too, since I may form him as I wish. And if you
are of contrary mind, wait till you hear of a contest wherein he who
defends the cause of arms is allowed to use arms, just as those who
defend letters make use of letters in their defence; for if everyone
avails himself of his proper weapons, you shall see that men of letters
will be worsted.”
“Ah,” said messer Pietro, “a while ago you blamed the French for prizing
letters little, and told what glorious lustre is shed on man by letters
and how they make him immortal; and now it seems you have changed your
mind. Do you not remember that
Before the famous tomb of brave Achilles
Thus spake the mighty Alexander, sighing:
‘O happy youth, who found so clear a trumpet,
And lofty bard to make thy deeds undying!’[120]
And if Alexander envied Achilles not for his deeds, but for the fortune
that had granted him the happiness of having his exploits celebrated by
Homer, we may conclude that Alexander esteemed Homer’s poems above
Achilles’s arms. For what other judge do you wait then, or for what
other sentence upon the dignity of arms and letters, than that
pronounced by one of the greatest commanders that have ever been?”
46.—Then the Count replied:
“I blame the French for thinking that letters are a hindrance to the
profession of arms, and I hold that learning is more proper to no one
than to a warrior; and in our Courtier I would have these two
accomplishments joined and each aided by the other, as is most proper:
nor do I think I have changed my mind in this. But as I said, I do not
wish to discuss which of the two is more worthy of praise. It is enough
that men of letters almost never select for praise any but great men and
glorious deeds, which in themselves merit praise for the mere essential
quality from which they spring; besides this they are very noble
material for writers: which is a great ornament, and in part the cause
of perpetuating writings, which perhaps would not be so much read and
appreciated if they lacked their noble theme, but vain and of little
moment.
“And if Alexander was envious that Achilles should be praised by Homer,
it does not therefore follow that he esteemed letters above arms;
wherein if he had felt himself as far behind Achilles as he deemed all
those who wrote of him were behind Homer, I am sure he would far rather
have desired fine acts on his part than fine speeches on the part of
others. Hence I believe that saying of his to have been a tacit eulogy
of himself, and that he was expressing a desire for what he thought he
did not possess (that is, the supreme excellence of a writer), and not
for what he believed he already had attained (that is, prowess in arms,
wherein he did not deem Achilles at all his superior). Thus he called
Achilles happy, as if hinting that although his own fame had hitherto
not been so celebrated in the world as Achilles’s, which was made bright
and illustrious by that poem so divine,—it was not because his valour
and merits were less or deserving of less praise, but because fortune
bestowed upon Achilles that miracle of nature as a glorious trumpet for
his achievements. Perhaps also he wished to incite some noble genius to
write about him, by showing that this must be as pleasing to him as were
his love and veneration for the sacred monuments of letters: whereof we
have spoken long enough for the present.”
“Nay, too long,” replied my lord Ludovico Pio; “for I believe that in
the whole world it would be impossible to find a receptacle large enough
to hold all the things you would have in our Courtier.”
Then the Count said:
“Wait a little, for there are many more that he must have.”
“In that case,” replied Pietro da Napoli, “Grasso de’ Medici would have
a great advantage over messer Pietro Bembo.”[121]
47.—Here everyone laughed, and the Count began anew and said:
“My lords, you must know that I am not content with the Courtier unless
he be also a musician and unless, besides understanding and being able
to read notes, he can play upon divers instruments. For if we consider
rightly, there is to be found no rest from toil or medicine for the
troubled spirit more becoming and praiseworthy in time of leisure, than
this; and especially in courts, where besides the relief from tedium
that music affords us all, many things are done to please the ladies,
whose tender and gentle spirit is easily penetrated by harmony and
filled with sweetness. Thus it is no marvel that in both ancient and
modern times they have always been inclined to favour musicians, and
have found refreshing spiritual food in music.”
Then my lord Gaspar said:
“I admit that music as well as many other vanities may be proper to
women and perhaps to some that have the semblance of men, but not to
those who really are men; for these ought not to enervate their mind
with delights and thus induce therein a fear of death.”
“Say not so,” replied the Count; “for I shall enter upon a vast sea in
praise of music. And I shall call to mind how it was always celebrated
and held sacred among the ancients, and how very sage philosophers were
of opinion that the world is composed of music, that the heavens make
harmony in their moving, and that the soul, being ordered in like
fashion, awakes and as it were revives its powers through music.
“Thus it is written that Alexander was sometimes excited by it so
passionately, that he was forced almost against his will to leave the
banquet table and rush to arms; and when the musician changed the temper
of the tune, he grew calm again, lay aside his arms, and returned to the
banquet table. Moreover I will tell you that grave Socrates learned to
play the cithern[122] at a very advanced age. And I remember having once
heard that Plato and Aristotle would have the man of culture a musician
also; and they show by a host of arguments that the power of music over
us is very great, and (for many reasons which would be too long to tell
now) that it must needs be taught from childhood, not so much for the
mere melody that we hear, but for the power it has to induce in us a
fresh and good habit of mind and an habitual tendency to virtue, which
renders the soul more capable of happiness, just as bodily exercise
renders the body more robust;[123] and that music is not only no
hindrance in the pursuits of peace and war, but is very helpful therein.
“Again, Lycurgus[124] approved of music in his harsh laws. And we read
that in their battles the very warlike Lacedemonians and Cretans used
the cithern and other dulcet instruments; that many very excellent
commanders of antiquity, like Epaminondas,[125] practised music; and
that those who were ignorant of it, like Themistocles,[126] were far
less esteemed. Have you not read that music was among the first
accomplishments which the worthy old Chiron taught Achilles in tender
youth,[127] whom he reared from the age of nurse and cradle? and that
the sage preceptor insisted that the hands which were to shed so much
Trojan blood, should be often busied with the cithern? Where is the
soldier who would be ashamed to imitate Achilles,—to say nothing of many
other famous commanders whom I could cite?
“Therefore seek not to deprive our Courtier of music, which not only
soothes men’s minds, but often tames wild beasts;[128] and he who enjoys
it not, may be sure that his spirit is ill attuned. See what power it
has, to make (as once it did) a fish submit to be ridden by a man upon
the boisterous sea.[129] We find it used in holy temples to render
praise and thanks to God; and we must believe that it is pleasing to Him
and that He has given it to us as most sweet alleviation for our
fatigues and troubles. Wherefore rough toilers of the field under a
burning sun often cheat their weariness with crude and rustic song. With
music the rude peasant lass, who is up before the day to spin or weave,
wards off her drowsiness and makes her toil a pleasure; music is very
cheering pastime for poor sailors after rain, wind and tempest: a solace
to tired pilgrims on their long and weary journeys, and often to
sorrowing captives in their chains and fetters. Thus, as stronger proof
that melody even if rude is very great relief from every human toil and
care, nature seems to have taught it to the nurse as chief remedy for
the continual wailing of frail children, who by the sound of her voice
are brought restful and placid sleep, forgetful of the tears so proper
to them and given us in that age by nature as a presage of our after
life.”
48.—As the Count now remained silent for a little, the Magnifico
Giuliano said:
“I do not at all agree with my lord Gaspar. Nay I think, for the reasons
you give and for many others, that music is not only an ornament but a
necessity to the Courtier. Yet I would have you declare in what way this
and the other accomplishments that you prescribe for him, are to be
practised, and at what time and in what manner.[130] For many things
that are praiseworthy in themselves often become very inappropriate when
practised out of season, and on the other hand, some that seem of little
moment are highly esteemed when made use of opportunely.”
49.—Then the Count said:
“Before we enter upon that subject, I wish to discuss another matter,
which I deem of great importance and therefore think our Courtier ought
by no means to omit: and this is to know how to draw and to have
acquaintance with the very art of painting.
“And do not marvel that I desire this art, which to-day may seem to
savour of the artisan and little to befit a gentleman; for I remember
having read that the ancients, especially throughout Greece, had their
boys of gentle birth study painting in school as an honourable and
necessary thing, and it was admitted to the first rank of liberal arts;
while by public edict they forbade that it be taught to slaves. Among
the Romans too, it was held in highest honour, and the very noble family
of the Fabii took their name from it; for the first Fabius was given the
name _Pictor_, because,—being indeed a most excellent painter, and so
devoted to painting that when he painted the walls of the temple of
Health,—he inscribed his own name thereon;[131] for although he was born
of a family thus renowned and honoured with so many consular titles,
triumphs and other dignities, and although he was a man of letters and
learned in the law, and numbered among the orators,—yet he thought to
add splendour and ornament to his fame by leaving a memorial that he had
been a painter. Nor is there lack of many other men of illustrious
family, celebrated in this art; which besides being very noble and
worthy in itself, is of great utility, and especially in war for drawing
places, sites, rivers, bridges, rocks, fortresses, and the like; since
however well we may keep them in memory (which is very difficult), we
cannot show them to others.
“And truly he who does not esteem this art, seems to me very
unreasonable; for this universal fabric that we see,—with the vast
heaven so richly adorned with shining stars, and in the midst the earth
girdled by the seas, varied with mountains, valleys and rivers, and
bedecked with so many divers trees, beautiful flowers and grasses,—may
be said to be a great and noble picture, composed by the hand of nature
and of God; and whoever is able to imitate it, seems to me deserving of
great praise: nor can it be imitated without knowledge of many things,
as he knows well who tries. Hence the ancients greatly prized both the
art and the artist, which thus attained the summit of highest
excellence; very sure proof of which may be found in the antique marble
and bronze statues that yet are seen.[132] And although painting is
different from sculpture, both the one and the other spring from the
same source, which is good design. Therefore, as the statues are divine,
so we may believe the pictures were also; the more indeed because they
are susceptible of greater skill.”
50.—Then my lady Emilia turned to Giancristoforo Romano, who was sitting
with the others there, and said:
“What think you of this opinion? Do you admit that painting is
susceptible of greater skill than sculpture?”[133]
Giancristoforo replied:
“I, my Lady, think that sculpture needs more pains, more skill, and is
of greater dignity than painting.”
The Count rejoined:
“In that statues are more enduring, perhaps we might say they are of
greater dignity; for being made as memorials, they fulfil better than
painting the purpose for which they are made. But besides serving as
memorials, both painting and sculpture serve also to beautify, and in
this respect painting is much superior; for if less diuturnal (so to
speak) than sculpture, yet it is of very long life, and is far more
charming so long as it endures.”
Then Giancristoforo replied:
“I really think that you are speaking against your convictions and that
you are doing so solely for the sake of your friend Raphael; and perhaps
too the excellence you find in his painting seems to you so consummate
that sculpture cannot rival it: but consider that this is praise of an
artist and not of his art.”
[Illustration:
MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI
1475-1564
]
Reduced from a photograph, specially made by Soame, of an anonymous and
hitherto unpublished bronze head at Oxford. From a death-mask,
Michelangelo’s pupil Daniele Ricciarelli da Volterra (1500-1566)
prepared a mould, of which this and the similar “Piot” head in the
Louvre are believed to be unchased castings. See C. Drury E.
Fortnum’s article “On the Bronze Portrait Busts of Michelangelo,”
etc., in the Archæological Journal.
Then he continued:
“It seems clear to me that both the one and the other are artificial
imitations of nature; but I do not see how you can say that truth, such
as nature makes it, is not better imitated in a marble or bronze
statue,—wherein the members are round, formed and measured, as nature
makes them,—than in a painting, where we see nothing but the surface and
those colours that cheat the eyes; nor will you tell me, surely, that
being is not nearer truth than seeming. Moreover I think sculpture is
more difficult, because if a slip is made, it cannot be corrected (since
marble cannot be patched again), but another statue must be made anew;
which does not happen with painting, for one may change a thousand
times, and add and take away, improving always.”
51.—The Count said, laughing:
“I am not speaking for Raphael’s sake; nor ought you to repute me so
ignorant as not to know the excellence of Michelangelo in sculpture,
your own, and others’. But I am speaking of the art, and not of the
artists.
“You say very truly that both the one and the other are imitations of
nature; but it is not true that painting seems, and sculpture is. For
while statues are round as in life and painting is seen only on the
surface, statues lack many things that paintings do not lack, and
especially light and shade. Thus flesh has one tone and marble another;
and this the painter imitates to the life by chiaroscuro, greater or
less according to the need,—which the sculptor cannot do. And although
the painter does not make his figure round, he presents the muscles and
members rounded in such fashion as so to join the parts which are not
seen, that we can discern very well that the painter knows and
understands these also. And in this, another and greater skill is needed
to represent those members that are foreshortened and grow smaller in
proportion to the distance by reason of perspective; which, by means of
measured lines, colours, lights and shades, shows you foreground and
distance all on the single surface of an upright wall, in such
proportion as he chooses.[134] Do you really think it of small moment to
imitate the natural colours, in representing flesh or stuffs or any
other coloured thing? The sculptor certainly cannot do this, or express
the grace of black eyes or blue, with the splendour of their amourous
beams. He cannot show the colour of fair hair, or the gleam of weapons,
or a dark night, or a storm at sea, or its lightnings and thunderbolts,
or the burning of a city, or the birth of rosy dawn with its rays of
gold and purple. In short, he cannot show sky, sea, earth, mountains,
woods, meadows, gardens, rivers, cities, or houses,—all of which the
painter shows.
52.—“Therefore painting seems to me nobler and more susceptible of
skill, than sculpture. And I think that it, like other things, reached
the summit of excellence among the ancients: which still is seen in the
few slight remains that are left, especially in the grottoes of
Rome;[135] but much more clearly may it be perceived in the ancient
authors, wherein is such honoured and frequent mention both of works and
of masters, and whereby we learn how highly they were always honoured by
great lords and by commonwealths.
“Thus we read that Alexander loved Apelles of Ephesus dearly,—so dearly,
that having caused the artist to paint a portrait of his favourite slave
undraped, and hearing that the worthy painter had become most ardently
enamoured of her by reason of her marvellous beauty, he gave her to
Apelles without hesitation:—munificence truly worthy of Alexander, to
sacrifice not only treasure and states but his very affections and
desires; and sign of exceeding love for Apelles, in order to please the
artist, not to hesitate at displeasing the woman he dearly loved, who
(we may believe) was sorely grieved to change so great a king for a
painter. Many other signs also are told of Alexander’s favour to
Apelles; but he very clearly showed how highly he esteemed the painter,
in commanding by public edict that none other should presume to paint
his portrait.
“Here I could tell you of the rivalries of many noble painters, which
filled nearly the whole world with praise and wonderment. I could tell
you with what solemnity ancient emperors adorned their triumphs with
pictures, and set them up in public places, and how dearly bought them;
and that there were some painters who gave their works as gifts,
esteeming gold and silver inadequate to pay for them; and how a painting
by Protogenes was prized so highly, that when Demetrius[136] laid siege
to Rhodes and could have gained an entrance by setting fire to the
quarter where he knew the painting was, he refrained from giving battle
so that it might not be burned, and thus did not capture the place; and
that Metrodorus,[137] a philosopher and very excellent painter, was sent
by the Athenians to Lucius Paulus[138] to teach his children and to
adorn the triumph that he was about to receive. Moreover many noble
authors have written about this art, which is a great sign of the esteem
in which it was held; but I do not wish to enlarge further upon it in
this discussion.
“So let it be enough to say that it is fitting for our Courtier to have
knowledge of painting also, as being honourable and useful and highly
prized in those times when men were of far greater worth than now they
are. And if he should never derive from it other use or pleasure than
the help it affords in judging the merit of statues ancient and modern,
of vases, buildings, medals, cameos, intaglios, and the like,—it also
enables him to appreciate the beauty of living bodies, not only as to
delicacy of face but as to symmetry of all the other parts, both in men
and in every other creature. Thus you see how a knowledge of painting is
a source of very great pleasure. And let those think of this, who so
delight in contemplating a woman’s beauty that they seem to be in
paradise, and yet cannot paint; which if they could do, they would have
much greater pleasure, because they would more perfectly appreciate that
beauty which engenders such satisfaction in their hearts.”
53.—Here messer Cesare Gonzaga laughed, and said:
“Certainly I am no painter; yet I am sure I have greater pleasure in
looking upon a woman than that admirable Apelles, whom you just
mentioned, would have if he were now come back to life.”
The Count replied:
“This pleasure of yours is not derived wholly from her beauty, but from
the affection that perhaps you bear her; and if you will say the truth,
the first time you saw that woman you did not feel a thousandth part of
the pleasure that you did afterwards, although her beauty was the same.
Thus you may see how much more affection had to do with your pleasure,
than beauty had.”
“I do not deny this,” said messer Cesare; “but just as my pleasure is
born of affection, so is affection born of beauty. Thus it may still be
said that beauty is the cause of my pleasure.”
The Count replied:
“Many other causes also inflame our minds, besides beauty: such as
manners, knowledge, speech, gesture, and a thousand other things which
in a way perhaps might also be called beauties; but above all, the
consciousness of being loved. So it is possible to love very ardently
even without that beauty you speak of; but the love that springs from
the outward bodily beauty which we see, will doubtless give far greater
pleasure to him who appreciates it more than to him who appreciates it
less. Therefore, to return to our subject, I think that Apelles enjoyed
the contemplation of Campaspe’s beauty far more than Alexander did:[139]
for we may easily believe that both men’s love sprang only from her
beauty; and perhaps it was partly on this account that Alexander
resolved to give her to him who seemed fitted to appreciate her most
perfectly.
“Have you not read that those five maidens of Crotona, whom the painter
Zeuxis chose above the others of that city for the purpose of forming
from them all a single type of surpassing beauty, were celebrated by
many poets as having been adjudged beautiful by one who must have been a
consummate judge of beauty?”[140]
54.—Messer Cesare here seemed ill satisfied and unwilling to admit for a
moment that anyone but himself could taste that pleasure which he felt
in contemplating a woman’s beauty, and he began to speak. But just then
a great tramping of feet was heard, and the sound of loud talking;
whereupon everyone turned, and a glare of torches was seen at the door
of the room, and soon there arrived, with a numerous and noble company,
my lord Prefect,[3] who returned from attending the pope part way on the
journey. At once on entering the palace he had asked what my lady
Duchess was doing, and had learned of what manner the game was that
evening, and the charge imposed on Count Ludovico to speak about
Courtiership. Therefore he came as fast as he could, so as to arrive in
season to hear something. Then, immediately after having made his
reverence to my lady Duchess and bidden the others to be seated (for
everyone had risen when he came in),—he too sat down in the circle with
some of his gentlemen; among whom were the Marquess Febus di Ceva and
his brother Gerardino,[141] messer Ettore Romano,[142] Vincenzo
Calmeta,[143] Orazio Florido,[144] and many others; and as everyone
remained silent, my lord Prefect said:
“Gentlemen, my coming here would be indeed a pity, if I were to
interrupt such a fine discussion as I think you were just now engaged
in; so do me not this wrong of depriving yourselves and me of such a
pleasure.”
Then Count Ludovico said:
“Nay, my Lord, I think we all must be far better pleased to be silent
than to speak; for this burden having fallen more to me than to the
others this evening, I have at last grown weary of speaking, and I think
all the others are weary of listening, for my talk has not been worthy
of this company or adequate to the lofty theme that I was charged with;
in which, having little satisfied myself, I think I have satisfied the
others still less. So you were fortunate, my Lord, to come in at the
end. And for the rest of the discussion, it would indeed be well to
appoint someone else to take my place, because whoever he may be, I know
he will fill it far better than I should even if I were willing to go
on, being now tired as I am.”
The Magnifico Giuliano replied:
55.—“I certainly shall not submit to be cheated of the promise that you
made me, and am sure my lord Prefect too will not be sorry to hear that
part of our discussion.”
“And what promise was it?” said the Count.
“To tell us in what way the Courtier must make use of those good
qualities that you have said befit him,” replied the Magnifico.
Although but a boy, my lord Prefect was wise and sensible beyond what
seemed natural to his tender years, and in his every movement he showed
a loftiness of mind and a certain vivacity of temper that gave true
presage of the high pitch of manliness that he was to attain. So he said
quickly:
“If all this is to be told, I think I have come just in time; for by
hearing in what way the Courtier must use his good qualities, I shall
hear also what they are, and thus shall come to learn everything that
has been said before. So do not refuse, Count, to fulfil the obligation
of which you have already performed a part.”
“I should not have so heavy an obligation to fulfil,” replied the Count,
“if the labour were more evenly divided; but the mistake was made of
giving the right of command to a too partial lady;” and then laughing he
turned to my lady Emilia, who quickly said:
“It is not you who ought to complain of my partiality; but since you do
so without reason, we will give someone else a share of this honour,
which you call labour;” and turning to messer Federico Fregoso, she
said: “You proposed the game of the Courtier, hence it is right that you
should bear some share in it; and this shall be to comply with my lord
Magnifico’s request, by declaring in what way, manner and time, the
Courtier ought to make use of his good qualities and practise those
things which the Count has said it is fitting he should know.”
Then messer Federico said:
“My Lady, in trying to separate the way and the time and the manner of
the Courtier’s good qualities and good practice, you try to separate
that which cannot be separated, because these are the very things that
make his qualities good, and his practice good. Therefore, since the
Count has spoken so much and so well, and has touched somewhat upon
these matters and arranged in his mind the rest of what he has to say,
it was only right that he should continue to the end.”
“Account yourself to be the Count,” said my lady Emilia, “and say what
you think he would say; and thus all will be right.”
56.—Then Calmeta said:
“My Lords, since the hour is late, and in order that messer Federico may
have no excuse for not telling what he knows, I think it would be well
to postpone the rest of the discussion until to-morrow, and let the
little time we have left, be spent in some other quiet diversion.”
As everyone approved, my lady Duchess desired madonna Margarita[145] and
madonna Costanza Fregosa[57] to dance. Whereupon Barletta,[146] a very
charming musician and excellent dancer, who always kept the whole court
in good humour, began to play upon his instruments; and joining hands,
the two ladies danced first a basset and then a _roegarze_,[147] with
consummate grace and to the great delight of those who saw them. Then
the night being already far spent, my lady Duchess rose to her feet, and
so everyone reverently took leave and retired to sleep.
THE SECOND BOOK OF THE COURTIER
BY COUNT BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE
TO MESSER ALFONSO ARIOSTO
1.—I have often considered not without wonder whence arises a fault,
which, as it is universally found among old people, may be believed to
be proper and natural to them. And this is, that they nearly all praise
bygone times and censure the present, inveighing against our acts and
ways and everything which they in their youth did not do; affirming too
that every good custom and good manner of living, every virtue, in short
every thing, is always going from bad to worse.
And verily it seems quite contrary to reason and worthy to be wondered
at, that ripe age, which in other matters is wont to make men’s judgment
more perfect with long experience, should in this matter so corrupt it
that they do not perceive that if the world were always growing worse,
and if fathers were generally better than children, we should long since
have reached that last grade of badness beyond which it is impossible to
grow worse. And yet we see that not only in our days but in bygone times
this failing has always been peculiar to old age, which is clearly
gathered from the works of many ancient authors, and especially of the
comic writers, who better than the others set forth the image of human
life.
Now the cause of this wrong judgment among old people I for my part take
to be, that the fleeting years despoil them of many good things, and
among others in great part rob the blood of vital spirits; whence the
complexion changes, and those organs become weak through which the soul
exerts its powers.[148] Thus in old age the sweet flowers of contentment
fall from our hearts, like leaves from a tree in autumn, and in place of
serene and sunny thoughts, comes cloudy and turbid sadness with its
train of thousand ills. So that not the body only but the mind also is
infirm; of bygone pleasures naught is left but a lingering memory and
the image of that precious time of tender youth, in which (when it is
with us) sky and earth and all things seem to us ever making merry and
laughing before our eyes, and the sweet springtide of happiness seems to
blossom in our thought, as in a delightful and lovely garden.
Therefore in the evening chill of life, when our sun begins to sink to
its setting and steals away those pleasures, we should fare better if in
losing them, we could lose the memory of them also, and as Themistocles
said, find an art that shall teach us to forget. For so deceitful are
our bodily senses, that they often cheat even the judgment of our minds.
Thus it seems to me that old people are in like case with those who keep
their eyes fixed upon the land as they leave port, and think their ship
is standing still and the shore recedes, although it is the other way.
For both the port and also time and its pleasures remain the same, and
one after another we take flight in the ship of mortality upon that
boisterous sea which absorbs and devours everything, and are never
suffered to touch shore again, but always tossed by adverse winds we are
wrecked upon some rock at last.
Since therefore the senile mind is an unfit subject for many pleasures,
it cannot enjoy them; and just as to men in fever, when the palate is
spoiled by corrupt vapours, all wines seem bitter, however precious and
delicate they be,—so old men, because of their infirmity (which yet does
not deprive them of appetite), find pleasures flat and cold and very
different from those which they remember tasting of old, although the
pleasures are intrinsically the same. Thus they feel themselves
despoiled, and they lament and call the present times bad, not
perceiving that the change lies in themselves and not in the times; and
on the other hand they call to mind their bygone pleasures, and bring
back the time when these were enjoyed and praise it as good, because it
seems to carry with it a savour of what they felt when it was present.
For in truth our minds hold all things hateful that have been with us in
our sorrows, and love those that have been with us in our joys.
[Illustration:
BORSO D’ESTE
DUKE OF FERRARA
1413-1471
]
Enlarged from Anderson’s photograph (no. 11375) of a part of the injured
fresco, “Triumph of Minerva,” in the Palazzo Schifanoia at Ferrara,
painted about 1468 by Francesco Cossa (1438?-1480?). See Gustave
Gruyer’s _L’Art Ferrarais_, ii, 581.
This is why it is sometimes highest bliss for a lover to look at a
window although closed, because he there had once the happiness to gaze
upon the lady of his love; and in the same way to look at a ring, a
letter, a garden or other place, or what you will, which seems to him a
conscious witness of his joys. And on the contrary, a gorgeous and
beautiful room will often be irksome to a man who has been prisoner or
has suffered some other sorrow there. And I once knew some who would not
drink from a cup like that from which in illness they had taken
medicine. For just as to the one the window or ring or letter recalls
the sweet memory that gives him such delight and seems part of his
bygone joy,—so to the other, the room or cup brings his illness or
imprisonment to mind. I believe that the same cause leads old people to
praise bygone times and to censure the present.
2.—Therefore as they speak of other things, so do they also of courts,
affirming those which they remember, to have been far more excellent and
full of eminent men than those which we see to-day. And as soon as such
discussions are started, they begin to extol with boundless praise the
courtiers of Duke Filippo or Duke Borso;[149] and they narrate the
sayings of Niccolò Piccinino;[150] and they remind us that there were no
murders in those days (or very few at most), no brawls, no ambushes, no
deceits, but a certain frank and kindly good will among all men, a loyal
confidence; and that in the courts of that time such good behaviour and
decorum prevailed, that courtiers were all like monks, and woe to him
who should have spoken insultingly to another, or so much as made a less
than decorous gesture to a woman. And on the other hand they say
everything is the reverse in these days, and that not only have
courtiers lost their fraternal love and gentle mode of life, but that
nothing prevails in courts but envy, malice, immorality and very
dissolute living, with every sort of vice,—the women lascivious without
shame, the men effeminate. They condemn our dress also as indecorous and
too womanish.
In short they censure an infinity of things, among which many indeed
merit censure, for it cannot be denied that there are many bad and
wicked men among us, or that this age of ours is much fuller of vice
than that which they praise.[151] Yet it seems to me that they ill
discern the cause of this difference, and that they are foolish. For
they would have the world contain all good and no evil, which is
impossible; because, since evil is opposed to good and good to evil, it
is almost necessary, by force of opposition and counterpoise as it were,
that the one should sustain and fortify the other, and that if either
wanes or waxes, so must the other also, since there is no contrary
without its contrary.
Who does not know that there would be no justice in the world, if there
were no wrongs? No courage, if there were no cowards? No continence, if
there were no incontinence? No health, if there were no infirmity? No
truth, if there were no lying? No good fortune, if there were no
misfortunes? Thus, according to Plato,[152] Socrates well says it is
surprising that Æsop did not write a fable showing that as God had never
been able to join pleasure and pain together, He joined them by their
extremities, so that the beginning of the one should be the end of the
other; for we see that no joy can give us pleasure, unless sorrow
precedes it. Who can hold rest dear, unless he has first felt the
hardship of fatigue? Who enjoys food, drink and sleep, unless he has
first endured hunger, thirst and wakefulness? Hence I believe that
sufferings and diseases were given man by nature not chiefly to make him
subject to them (since it does not seem fitting that she who is mother
of every good should give us such evils of her own determined purpose),
but as nature created health, joy and other blessings,—diseases, sorrows
and other ills followed after them as a consequence. In like manner, the
virtues having been bestowed upon the world by grace and gift of nature,
at once by force of that same bounden opposition, the vices became their
fellows by necessity; so that always as the one waxes or wanes, thus
likewise must needs the other wax or wane.
3.—So when our old men praise bygone courts for not containing such
vicious men as some that our courts contain, they do not perceive that
their courts did not contain such virtuous men as some that ours
contain; which is no marvel, for no evil is so bad as that which springs
from the corrupted seed of good, and hence, as nature now puts forth far
better wits than she did then, those who devote themselves to good, do
far better than was formerly done, and likewise those who devote
themselves to evil, do far worse. Therefore we must not on that account
say that those who refrained from evil because they did not know how to
do evil, deserved any praise for it; for although they did little harm,
they did the worst they could. And that the wits of those times were
generally inferior to those of our time, can be well enough perceived in
all that we see of those times, both in letters and in pictures,
statues, buildings, and every other thing.
These old men censure us also for many a thing that in itself is neither
good nor evil, simply because they did not do it. And they say it is not
seemly for young men to ride through the city on horse, still less in
pumps, to wear fur linings or long skirts in winter, or to wear a cap
before reaching at least the age of eighteen years, and the like;
wherein they certainly are wrong, for besides being convenient and
useful, these customs have been introduced by usage and meet universal
favour, just as formerly it was to go about in gala dress with open
breeches and polished pumps, and for greater elegance to carry a
sparrow-hawk on the wrist all day without reason, to dance without
touching the lady’s hand, and to follow many other fashions that now
would be as very clumsy as they then were highly prized.
Therefore let it be allowed us also to follow the custom of our time
without being slandered by these old men, who in their wish to praise
themselves, often say: “When I was twenty years old, I still slept with
my mother and sisters, nor did I for a long time afterwards know what
women are; while now, boys hardly have hair on their heads before they
know more tricks than grown men did in our time.” Nor do they perceive
that in saying this they acknowledge that our boys have more mind than
their old men had.
Let them cease then to censure our time as full of vices, for in
removing the vices they would remove the virtues too; and let them
remember that among the worthies of old, in the ages when there lived
those spirits who were glorious and truly divine in every virtue, and
those more than human minds,—there were also to be found many very bad
men; who (if they were living) would be as eminently bad among our bad
men, as the good men of that time would be eminently good. And of this,
all history gives ample proof.
4.—But I think these old men have now sufficient answer. So we will end
this homily, perhaps already too diffuse but not wholly irrelevant to
our subject; and as it is enough for us to have shown that the courts of
our time were worthy of no less praise than those which old men praise
so highly,—we will pursue the discussion about the Courtier, from which
we may easily understand what rank the court of Urbino held among other
courts, and of what quality were the Prince and Lady to whom such noble
spirits did service, and how fortunate they might hold themselves who
lived in such companionship.
5.—Now the following day having arrived, there were many and diverse
discussions among the cavaliers and ladies of the court concerning the
debate of the evening before; which in great part arose because my lord
Prefect, eager to know what had been said, questioned nearly everyone
about it, and (as is always wont to be the case) he received different
answers; for some praised one thing and some another, and among many too
there was disagreement as to the Count’s real opinion, since everyone’s
memory did not quite fully retain the things that were said.
Thus the matter was discussed nearly all day; and as soon as night set
in, my lord Prefect desired that food be served and took all the
gentlemen away to supper. When they had done eating, he repaired to the
room of my lady Duchess, who, on seeing such a numerous company and
earlier than the custom was, said:
“Methinks, messer Federico, it is a heavy burden that is placed upon
your shoulders, and great the expectation you must satisfy.”
Then without waiting for messer Federico to reply, the Unico Aretino
said:
“And what, forsooth, is this great burden? Who is so foolish that when
he knows how to do a thing, does not do it in proper season?”
So, discoursing of this, everyone sat down in the usual place and order,
with eager expectation for the debate appointed.
6.—Then messer Federico turned to the Unico, and said:
“So, my lord Unico, you do not think that a laborious part and a great
burden are imposed on me this evening, having to show in what way,
manner and time the Courtier ought to employ his good accomplishments
and practise those things that have been said to befit him?”
“It seems to me no great matter,” replied the Unico; “and I think it is
quite enough to say that the Courtier should have good judgment, as the
Count last evening rightly said he must; and this being so, I think that
without other precepts he ought to be able to use what he knows
seasonably and in a well bred way. To try to reduce this to more exact
rules would be too difficult and perhaps superfluous. For I know no man
so stupid as to wish to fence when others are intent on dancing; or to
go through the street dancing a morris-dance, however admirably he might
know how; or in trying to comfort a mother whose child has died, to
begin with pleasantries and witticism. Surely methinks no gentleman
would do this, who was not altogether a fool.”
Then messer Federico said:
“It seems to me, my lord Unico, that you run too much to extremes. For
one may sometimes be silly in a way that is not so easily seen, and
faults are not always of the same degree: and it may be that a man will
refrain from public and too patent folly,—such as that would be of which
you tell, to dance a morris-dance about the piazza,—and yet cannot
refrain from praising himself out of season, from displaying a tiresome
conceit, from occasionally saying something to cause laughter, which
falls cold and wholly flat from being said inopportunely. And these
faults are often covered by a kind of veil that does not suffer them to
be seen by him who commits them, unless he searches for them with care;
and although our eyes see little for many reasons, they most of all are
clouded by conceit, since everyone likes to make a show in that wherein
he believes himself proficient, whether his belief be true or false.
“Therefore it seems to me that the right course in this regard lies in a
certain prudent and judicious choice, and in discerning the more or less
which all things gain or lose by being done opportunely or out of
season. And although the Courtier may possess good enough judgment to
perceive these distinctions, yet I think it would surely be easier for
him to attain what he is seeking, if we were to broaden his mind by a
few precepts, and show him the way and as it were the foundations upon
which he must build,—than if he were to follow generalities only.
7.—“Last evening the Count spoke about Courtiership so fully and so
beautifully, that he has aroused in me no little fear and doubt whether
I shall be able to satisfy this noble company so well in what I have to
say, as he did in what it fell to him to say. Yet to make myself a
sharer in his fame as far as I can, and to be sure of avoiding this one
mistake at least, I shall contradict him in nothing.
“Accepting his opinions then, and among others his opinion as to the
Courtier’s noble birth, capacities, bodily form and grace of feature,—I
say that to win praise justly and good opinion from everyone and favour
from the princes whom he serves, I deem it necessary for the Courtier to
know how to dispose his whole life, and to make the most of his good
qualities in intercourse with all men everywhere, without exciting envy
thereby. And how difficult this in itself is, we may infer from the
fewness of those who are seen to reach the goal; for by nature we all
are more ready to censure mistakes than to praise things well done, and
many men, from a kind of innate malignity and although they clearly see
the good, seem to strive with every effort and pains to find either some
hidden fault in us or at least some semblance of fault.
“Thus it is needful for our Courtier to be cautious in his every action,
and always to mingle good sense with what he says or does. And let him
not only take care that his separate parts and qualities are excellent,
but let him order the tenour of his life in such fashion, that the whole
may be in keeping with these parts and be seen to be always and in
everything accordant with his own self and form one single body of all
these good qualities; so that his every act may be the result and
compound of all his faculties, as the Stoics say is the duty of him who
is wise.
“Still, although in every action one faculty is always chief, yet all
are so enlinked together, that they make for one end and may all further
and serve every purpose. Hence he must know how to make the most of
them, and by means of contrast and as it were foil to the one, he must
make the other more clearly seen;—like good painters, who display and
show forth the lights of projecting objects by the use of shadow, and
likewise deepen the shadows of flat objects by means of light, and so
assemble their divers colours that both the one and the other are better
displayed by reason of that diversity, and the placing of figures in
opposition one to another aids them to perform that office which is the
painter’s aim.
“Thus gentleness is very admirable in a man of noble birth who is
valiant and strong. And as his boldness seems greater when accompanied
by modesty, so his modesty is enhanced and set off by his boldness.[153]
Hence to speak little, to do much, and not to boast of praiseworthy
deeds but to conceal them tactfully,—enhances both these attributes in
the case of one who knows how to employ this method with discretion; and
so it is with all other good qualities.
“Therefore in what our Courtier does or says I would have him follow a
few universal rules, which I think comprise briefly all that I have to
say. And for the first and most important let him above all avoid
affectation, as the Count rightly advised last evening. Next let him
consider well what thing it is that he is doing or saying, the place
where he is doing it, in whose presence, the cause that impels him, his
age, his profession, the object he has in view, and the means that may
conduce thereto; and so, with these precautions let him apply himself
discreetly to whatever he has a mind to do or say.”
8.—After messer Federico had spoken thus, he seemed to pause a little.
Whereupon my lord Morello da Ortona at once said:
“These rules of yours teach little, it seems to me; and for my part I
know as much about it now, as I did before you propounded them. Still I
remember having heard them several times before also from the friars to
whom I made confession, and who called them ‘the circumstances,’ I
think.”
Then messer Federico laughed and said:
“If you remember rightly, the Count declared last evening that the
Courtier’s chief business should be that of arms, and spoke at length
about the way in which he ought to practise it; therefore we will not
repeat this. Yet among our rules we may also lay it down that when our
Courtier finds himself in a skirmish or action or battle, or in other
such affairs, he ought to arrange discreetly to withdraw from the crowd,
and to perform those glorious and brave deeds that he has to do, with as
little company as he can, and in sight of all the noblest and most
respected men in the army, and especially in the presence and (if it is
possible) before the very eyes of his king or of the prince whom he
serves; for in truth it is very proper to make the most of one’s good
deeds. And I think that just as it is wrong to seek false and unmerited
renown, so it is wrong also to defraud oneself of the honour that is
one’s due, and not to seek that praise which alone is the true reward of
worthy effort.
“And I remember having in my time known some men who were very stupid in
this regard, although valiant, and who put their lives as much in danger
to capture a flock of sheep, as to be the first to scale the walls of a
beleaguered town; which our Courtier will not do if he bears in mind the
motive that leads him into war, which should be honour only. And again
if he happens to be playing at arms in public shows,—such as jousts,
tourneys, stick-throwing, or any other bodily exercise,—mindful of the
place and presence in which he is, he will contrive to be not less
elegant and graceful than unerring with his weapons, and to feast the
spectators’ eyes with all those things which he thinks may give him an
added grace. He will take care that his horse is bravely caparisoned,
that his attire becomes him, that his mottoes are appropriate and his
devices clever, so that they may attract the eyes of the bystanders as
the loadstone attracts iron. He will never be among the last to show
themselves, knowing that the crowd and especially women gaze much more
attentively upon the first than upon the last; for their eyes and minds,
which at the start are eager for novelty and observe and are impressed
by every trifle, are afterwards not only sated by repetition but even
grow weary. Thus there was an excellent actor of ancient times, who for
this reason always wished to be the first to perform his part in the
play.
“So too, even in speaking of arms, our Courtier will have regard to the
profession of those with whom he converses, and will govern himself
accordingly,—speaking in one way with men and in another way with women.
And if he wishes to touch on something that is to his credit, he will do
so covertly, as if by chance in passing, and with the discreetness and
caution that Count Ludovico expounded to us yesterday.
9.—“Does it not seem to you now, my lord Morello, that our rules may
teach something? Does it not seem to you that our friend, of whom I was
telling you a few days since, quite forgot with whom and why he was
speaking, when to entertain a lady he had never seen before, he began
his talk by telling her that he had slain so many men, and that he was a
terrible fellow and knew how to handle a sword with both hands? Nor did
he leave her until he had tried to explain to her how certain blows of
the battle-axe ought to be parried when one is armed and how when
unarmed, and to show the different ways of grasping the handle; so that
the poor soul was on the rack, and thought the hour seemed a thousand
years before she could send him off, almost fearing that he would slay
her like the others. Such are the mistakes committed by those who pay no
regard to the ‘circumstances,’ of which you say you heard from the
friars.
“Next I say that of bodily exercises there are some that are almost
never practised except in public,—such as jousts, tourneys,
stick-throwing, and all the rest that have to do with arms. Hence when
our Courtier has to take part in these, he must first contrive to be so
well equipped in point of horses, weapons and dress, that he lacks
nothing. And if he does not feel himself well provided with everything,
let him on no account engage, for if he fails to do well, the excuse
cannot be made that these things are not his business. Then he must
carefully consider in whose presence he is seen and of what sort the
company is, for it would not be seemly for a gentleman to honour a
rustic festival with his presence, where the spectators and the company
are of low degree.”
10.—Then my lord Gaspar Pallavicino said:
“In our Lombard country we do not make these distinctions. On the
contrary, there are many young gentlemen who dance all day with peasants
in the sun on holidays, and play with them at throwing the bar,
wrestling, running and leaping. And I do not think it amiss, for there
the rivalry is not of birth, but of strength and agility, wherein
villagers are often quite a match for nobles; and this condescension
seems to have in it a pleasant touch of generosity.”
Messer Federico replied:
“This dancing of yours in the sun pleases me not in any way, nor do I
see what gain there is in it. But in my opinion whoever cares to wrestle
or run or leap with peasants, ought to do so as a matter of practice and
out of courtesy as we say, not in rivalry with them. And a man ought to
be almost sure of winning; else let him not engage, because it is too
unseemly and shameful a thing, and beneath his dignity, to see a
gentleman vanquished by a peasant, and especially at wrestling. Hence I
think it is well to abstain, at least in the presence of many, for the
gain of beating is very small and the loss of being beaten is very
great.
“The game of tennis also is nearly always played in public, and is one
of those sports to which a crowd lends much distinction. Therefore I
would have our Courtier practise this, and all the others except the
handling of arms, as something that is not his profession, and let him
show that he does not seek or expect praise for it, nor let him seem to
devote much care or time to it, although he may do it admirably. Nor let
him be like some men who delight in music, and in speaking with anyone
always begin to sing under their breath whenever there is a pause in the
conversation. Others always go dancing as they pass through streets and
churches. Others, when they meet a friend in the piazza or anywhere
else, at once put themselves in posture as if for fencing or wrestling,
according to their favourite humour.”
Here messer Cesare Gonzaga said:
“A young cardinal we have in Rome does better than that; for out of
pride in his fine bodily frame, he conducts into his garden all who come
to visit him (even although he has never seen them before), and urgently
presses them to strip to the doublet and try a turn with him at
leaping.”
11.—Messer Federico laughed; then he went on:
“There are certain other exercises that can be practised in public and
in private, like dancing; and in this I think the Courtier ought to have
a care, for when dancing in the presence of many and in a place full of
people, it seems to me that he should preserve a certain dignity, albeit
tempered with a lithe and airy grace of movement; and although he may
feel himself to be very nimble and a master of time and measure, let him
not attempt those agilities of foot and double steps which we find very
becoming in our friend Barletta, but which perhaps would be little
suited to a gentleman. Yet in a room privately, as we are now, I think
he may try both, and may dance morris-dances and brawls;[154] but not in
public unless he be masked, when it is not displeasing even though he be
recognized by all.
“Indeed there is no better way of displaying oneself in such matters at
public sports, either armed or unarmed; because disguise carries with it
a certain freedom and licence, which among other things enable a man to
choose a part for which he feels himself qualified, and to use care and
elaboration upon the chief point of the thing wherein he would display
himself, and a certain nonchalance as to that which does not
count,—which greatly enhances the charm: as for a youth to array himself
like an old man, yet in easy dress so as to be able to show his vigour;
a cavalier in the guise of a rustic shepherd or some other like costume,
but with a perfect horse and gracefully bedecked in character;—because
the mind of the spectators is quick to fill out the image of that which
is presented to the eyes at first glance; and then seeing the thing turn
out much better than the costume promised, they are amused and
delighted.
“But in these sports and shows where masks are worn, it would not be
seemly for a prince to try to enact the part of a prince, because that
pleasure which the spectators find in novelty would be in great measure
lacking, since it is news to no one that the prince is the prince; and
he, conscious that besides being the prince he is trying to play the
prince, loses the freedom to do all those things that are beneath a
prince’s dignity. And if there were any contest in these sports,
especially with arms, he might even make men think that he chose to
impersonate a prince in order not to be beaten but spared by others;
moreover were he to do in sport the same that it behooves him to do in
earnest upon occasion, he would deprive his own proper action of
dignity, and make it almost seem as if that too were sport. But at such
times, if the prince lays aside his character of prince, and mingles
equally with his inferiors yet in such fashion as to be recognizable, by
renouncing his own rank he attains a higher one, in that he prefers to
excel the rest not by authority but by merit, and to show that his worth
is not enhanced by the fact that he is a prince.
12.—“I say then that in these martial sports the Courtier ought to use
the like discretion, according to his rank. In horseback vaulting too,
in wrestling, running and leaping, I should be well pleased to have him
shun the vulgar crowd, or at most let himself be very rarely seen; for
there is not on earth a thing so excellent but the ignorant will tire of
it and hold it of small account, if they see it often.
“As to music I hold the same opinion: hence I would not have our
Courtier behave like many, who are no sooner come anywhere (even into
the presence of gentlemen with whom they have no acquaintance), than
without waiting to be urged they set about doing what they know and
often what they do not know; so that it seems as if they had come only
for the purpose of showing themselves, and had that for their chief
profession. Therefore let the Courtier resort to music as a pastime and
almost unwillingly, and not before vulgar people nor very many. And
although he may know and understand that which he is doing, in this too
I would have him hide the study and pains that are necessary in
everything one would do well, and seem to value this accomplishment
lightly in himself, but by practising it admirably make others value it
highly.”
13.—Then my lord Gaspar Pallavicino said:
“There are many kinds of music, vocal as well as instrumental: therefore
I should like to hear which is the best of all, and at what time the
Courtier ought to perform it.”[155]
Messer Federico replied:
“I regard as beautiful music, to sing well by note, with ease and in
beautiful style; but as even far more beautiful, to sing to the
accompaniment of the viol,[156] because nearly all the sweetness lies in
the solo part, and we note and observe the fine manner and the melody
with much greater attention when our ears are not occupied with more
than a single voice, and moreover every little fault is more clearly
discerned,—which is not the case when several sing together, because
each singer helps his neighbour. But above all, singing to the viol by
way of recitative seems to me most delightful, which adds to the words a
charm and grace that are very admirable.
[Illustration]
ELISABET DE GONZAGA FELTRIA
“My Lady Duchess”
EMILIA
“My Lady Emilia”
MARGARITA DE GONZAGA
“Madonna Margarita”
FRANC^O M^A
“My Lord Prefect”
JULIANO DE MEDICI
“My Lord Magnifico”
AUTOGRAPH SIGNATURES OF INTERLOCUTORS
From negatives, made by Premi and by Signor Lanzoni, from originals
preserved in the Royal State Archives at Mantua and selected by the
Director, Signor Alessandro Luzio.
“All keyed instruments also are pleasing to the ear, because they
produce very perfect consonances, and upon them one can play many things
that fill the mind with musical delight. And not less charming is the
music of the stringed quartet, which is most sweet and exquisite. The
human voice lends much ornament and grace to all these instruments, with
which I would have our Courtier at least to some degree acquainted,
albeit the more he excels with them, the better,—without troubling
himself much with those that Minerva forbade to Alcibiades, because it
seems that they are ungraceful.[157]
“Then, as to the time for enjoying these various kinds of music, I think
it is whenever a man finds himself in familiar and beloved companionship
and there are not other occupations. But above all it is fitting where
ladies are present, because their aspect fills the listener’s heart with
sweetness, renders it more sensitive to the tenderness of the music, and
quickens the musician’s soul.
“As I have already said, it pleases me well that we should avoid the
crowd, and especially the ignoble crowd. But discretion must needs be
the spice of everything, for it would be quite impossible to foresee all
the cases that occur; and if the Courtier rightly understands himself,
he will adapt himself to the occasion and will perceive when the minds
of his hearers are disposed to listen and when not. He will take his own
age into account: for it is indeed unseemly and unlovely in the extreme
to see a man of any quality,—old, hoary and toothless, full of
wrinkles,—playing on a viol and singing in the midst of a company of
ladies, even though he be a passable performer. And the reason of this
is that in singing the words are usually amourous, and love is a
ridiculous thing in old men,—albeit it is sometimes pleased among its
other miracles to kindle frozen hearts in spite of years.”
14.—Then the Magnifico replied:
“Do not deprive old men of this pleasure, messer Federico; for in my
time I have known old men who had right perfect voices and hands very
dexterous upon their instruments, far more than some young men.”
“I do not wish,” said messer Federico, “to deprive old men of this
pleasure, but I do wish to deprive you and these ladies of the pleasure
of laughing at such folly. And if old men wish to sing to the viol, let
them do so in secret and only to drive from their minds those painful
thoughts and grievous troubles with which our life is filled, and to
taste that rapture which I believe Pythagoras and Socrates found in
music.[158] And even although they practise it not, by somewhat
accustoming their minds to it they will enjoy it far more when they hear
it than a man who knows nothing of it. For just as the arms of a smith,
who is weak in his other members, become stronger by exercise than those
of another man who is more robust but unaccustomed to use his arms,—in
like manner ears practised in harmony will perceive it better and more
speedily and will appreciate it with far greater pleasure, than others,
however good and sharp they be, that are not versed in the varieties of
musical consonance; because these modulations do not penetrate ears
unused to hearing them, but pass aside without leaving any savour of
themselves; albeit even the beasts have some enjoyment in melody.
“This then is the pleasure it is fitting old men should take in music. I
say the like of dancing, for in truth we ought to give up these
exercises before our age forces us to give them up against our will.”
Here my lord Morello replied with a little heat:
“So it is better to exclude all old men, and to say that only young men
have a right to be called Courtiers.”
Then messer Federico laughed, and said:
“You see, my lord Morello, that they who like these things strive to
seem young when they are not, and hence they dye their hair and shave
twice a week.[159] And this is because nature silently tells them that
such things are proper only to the young.”
All the ladies laughed, for each one of them felt that these words
fitted my lord Morello; and he seemed rather stung by them. Messer
Federico soon continued:
15.—“But there are many other ways of entertaining ladies that are
proper to old men.”
“What are they?” said my lord Morello. “Telling stories?”
“That is one,” replied messer Federico. “But as you know, every age
brings its own thoughts with it, and has some peculiar virtue and some
peculiar vice. Thus, while old men are ordinarily more prudent than
young men, more continent and wiser, so too they are more garrulous,
miserly, querulous and timid; they are always scolding about the house,
harsh to their children, and wish everyone to follow their way. And on
the contrary young men are spirited, generous, frank, but prone to
quarrel, voluble, loving and hating in an instant, eager in all their
pleasures, unfriendly to him who counsels well.
“But of all ages, that of manhood is the most temperate, because it has
left the faults of youth behind and has not yet reached those of old
age. Being placed then at the two extremes, young and old must needs
learn from reason how to correct the faults that nature implants in
them. Thus, old men ought to guard against much self-praise and the
other evil habits that we have said are peculiar to them, and to use
that prudence and knowledge which they have gained from long experience,
and to be like oracles consulted of all men; and in telling what they
know, they ought to have the grace to speak to the point and temper the
gravity of their years with a certain mild and sportive humour. In this
way they will be good Courtiers, enjoy their intercourse with men and
with ladies, and be always welcome,—without singing or dancing; and when
need arises they will display their worth in affairs of importance.
16.—“Let young men use this same care and judgment, not indeed in
copying old men’s ways,—for that which befits the one would not at all
befit the other, and we are wont to say that over wisdom is a bad sign
in the young,—but in correcting their own natural faults. Hence I
greatly like to see a youth, and especially when handling weapons, who
has a touch of the grave and taciturn; who is master of himself, without
those restless manners which are often seen at that age; because such
youths seem to have a certain something in them above the rest. Moreover
this quietness of manner has in it a kind of impressive boldness,
because it seems the result not of anger but of judgment, and governed
more by reason than by passion. This is nearly always found in all men
of high courage, and we see it also among those brute animals that have
more nobility and strength than their fellows,—as in the lion and the
eagle.
“Nor is this strange; for an impetuous and sudden movement,—which
without words or other signs of wrath abruptly bursts with all its force
at once from the quiet that is its contrary, as it were like the
discharge of a cannon,—is far more violent and furious than that which
increases by degrees and grows hotter little by little. Therefore they
who talk much and move about and cannot stand still, when they have an
enterprise on foot, seem thus to exhaust their powers; and as our friend
messer Pietro Monte well says, they act like boys who sing from fear
when they walk at night, as if to keep up their courage by their
singing.
“Again, just as calm and thoughtful youthfulness is very praiseworthy in
a young man, because the levity which is the fault peculiar to his age
seems to be tempered and corrected,—so in an old man a green and lively
old age is to be highly esteemed, because his stoutness of heart seems
to be so great as to warm and strengthen his feeble and chill years, and
to keep him in that middle state which is the best part of our life.
17.—“But in brief not even all these qualities in our Courtier will
suffice to win universal favour of lords, cavaliers and ladies, unless
he has also a gentle and amiable manner in daily talk. And I verily
believe it to be difficult to give any rule for this, because of the
infinite variety of things that arise in conversation, and because among
all the men on earth no two are found who have minds quite alike. So
whoever has to prepare himself for conversation with many, must needs be
guided by his own judgment, and distinguishing the differences between
one man and another, must daily change his style and method according to
the character of the person with whom he has to converse. Nor could I
for my part give other rules in this matter than those already given,
which our friend my lord Morello has learned at the confessional from
his youth up.”
Here my lady Emilia laughed, and said:
“You shirk labour too much, messer Federico. But you shall not succeed,
for you must talk on until it is time to go to bed.”
“And what, my Lady, if I have nothing to say?” replied messer Federico.
“There you shall show your wit,” said my lady Emilia. “And if what I
once heard be true, that there was a man so clever and eloquent that he
did not lack material to write a book in praise of a fly, others in
praise of the fourth day ague, and another in praise of baldness,—will
you also not have the courage to find something to say about
Courtiership for one evening?”[160]
“We have already said enough about it to make two books,” replied messer
Federico. “But since my excuse is of no avail, I will talk until you
think I have fulfilled, if not my duty, at least the limit of my powers.
18.—“I think that the conversation which the Courtier ought most to try
in every way to make acceptable, is that which he holds with his prince;
and although this word ‘conversation’ implies a certain equality that
seems impossible between a lord and his inferior, yet we will call it so
for the present. Therefore, besides daily showing everyone that he
possesses the worth we have already described, I would have the Courtier
strive, with all the thoughts and forces of his mind, to love and almost
to adore the prince whom he serves, above every other thing, and mould
his wishes, habits and all his ways to his prince’s liking.”
Without waiting for more, Pietro da Napoli here said:
“We already have enough Courtiers of this kind, for methinks you have in
a few words described for us a noble flatterer.”
“You are much in errour,” replied messer Federico; “for flatterers love
neither their prince nor their friends, which I tell you I wish chiefly
in our Courtier.
“Moreover it is possible without flattery to obey and further the wishes
of him we serve, for I am speaking of those wishes that are reasonable
and right, or of those that in themselves are neither good nor evil,
such as would be a liking for play or a devotion to one kind of exercise
above another. And I would have the Courtier bend himself to this even
if he be by nature alien to it, so that on seeing him his lord shall
always feel that he will have something agreeable to say; which will
come about if he has the good judgment to perceive what his prince
likes, and the wit and prudence to bend himself thereto, and a
deliberate purpose to like that which perhaps he by nature dislikes. And
adopting these precautions, he will never be out of humour or melancholy
before his prince, nor so taciturn as many are who seem to bear a grudge
against their patrons, which is a truly odious thing. He will not be
given to evil speaking, especially against his own lords; which often
happens, for in courts there seems to rage a fury[161] of such sort that
those who have been most favoured by their lord and have been raised to
eminence from the lowest state, are always complaining and speaking ill
of him; which is unseemly not only in such as these, but even in those
who chance to have been ill used.
“Our Courtier will show no foolish presumption; he will not be a bearer
of evil tidings; he will not be thoughtless in sometimes saying things
that offend instead of pleasing as he intends. He will not be obstinate
and disputatious, as some are who seem to delight in nothing but to be
troublesome and disagreeable like flies, and who make a point of
spitefully contradicting everyone without discrimination. He will not be
an idle or untruthful tattler, nor a boaster nor pointless flatterer,
but modest and reserved, always and especially in public showing that
reverence and respect which befit the servant towards the master; and he
will not behave like many, who on meeting any great prince, with whom if
only they have spoken but once, press forward with a certain smiling and
friendly look, as if they wished to caress an equal or show favour to an
inferior.
“He will very rarely or almost never ask anything of his lord for
himself, lest his lord, being reluctant to deny it to him directly, may
sometimes grant it with an ill grace, which is much worse. Even in
asking for others he will choose his time discreetly and ask proper and
reasonable things; and he will so frame his request, by omitting what he
knows may displease and by skilfully doing away with difficulties, that
his lord shall always grant it, or shall not think him offended by
refusal even if it be denied; for when lords have denied a favour to an
importunate suitor, they often reflect that he who asked it with such
eagerness, must have desired it greatly, and so having failed to obtain
it, must feel ill will towards him who denied it; and believing this,
they begin to hate the man and can never more look upon him with favour.
19.—“He will not seek to intrude unasked into his master’s chamber or
private retreats, even though he be of great consequence; for when great
lords are in private, they often like a little liberty to say and do
what they please, and do not wish to be seen or heard by any who may
criticise them; and it is very proper. Hence I think those men do ill
who blame great lords for consorting privately with persons who are of
little worth save in matters of personal service, for I do not see why
lords should not have the same freedom to relax their minds that we fain
would have to relax ours. But if a Courtier accustomed to deal with
important matters, chances to find himself in private with his lord, he
must put on another face, postpone grave concerns to another place and
time, and give the conversation a cast that shall amuse and please his
lord, so as not to disturb that repose of mind of which I speak.
“In this however, as in everything else, let him above all take care not
to weary his lord, and let him wait for favours to be offered him rather
than angle for them so openly as many do, who are so greedy that it
seems as if they must die if they do not get what they seek; and if they
happen to meet any disfavour or to see others favoured, they suffer such
anguish that they can in no wise hide their envy. Thus they make
everyone laugh at them, and often are the cause that leads their master
to bestow favour on the first comer simply to spite them. Then again, if
they find themselves in at all more than common favour, they become so
intoxicated by it that they stand palsied[162] with joy, and seem not to
know what to do with their hands and feet, and they can hardly keep from
calling on the company to come and see and congratulate them as upon
something to which they are quite unused.
“Of such sort I would not have our Courtier. I am quite willing that he
should like favours, but not that he should value them so highly as to
seem unable to do without them. And when he receives them, let him not
seem unused or strange to them, or marvel that they are offered him; nor
let him refuse them, as some do who refrain from accepting them out of
mere ignorance, and thus seem to the bystanders to be conscious of not
deserving them.
“Yet a man ought always to be a little more backward than his rank
warrants; to accept not too readily the favours and honours that are
offered him; and to refuse them modestly, showing that he values them
highly, yet in such fashion as to give the donor cause to offer them
again with far more urgency. For the greater the reluctance with which
they are accepted, the more highly will the prince who gives them think
himself esteemed, and the benefit that he bestows will seem the greater,
the more the recipient seems to prize it and to hold himself honoured by
it. Moreover these are the true and solid favours that make a man
esteemed by those who see him from without; for, being unsought, they
are assumed by everyone to be the reward of true worth, the more so when
they are accompanied by modesty.”
20.—Then messer Cesare Gonzaga said:
“Methinks you have stolen this passage from the Evangelist, where he
says: ‘When thou art bidden to a wedding, go and sit down in the lowest
room; that when he that bade thee cometh, he may say: Friend, go up
higher: and thus shalt thou have honour in the presence of them that sit
at meat with thee.’”[163]
Messer Federico laughed, and said:
“It were too great sacrilege to steal from the Evangelist; but you are
more learned in Holy Writ than I thought;” then he went on: “You see
what great danger those men sometimes run who boldly begin conversation
before a lord without being invited; and to put them down, the lord
often makes no reply and turns his head another way, and even if he
replies to them, everyone sees that he does it with an ill grace.
[Illustration]
BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE
CESAR DE GONZAGA
LUDOVICO CANOSSA
PIETRO BEMBO
BERNARDO DE BIBBIENA
AUTOGRAPH SIGNATURES OF THE AUTHOR AND OF
FOUR OF HIS FRIENDS
From negatives, made by Premi and by Signor Lanzoni, from originals
preserved in the Royal State Archives at Mantua and selected by the
Director, Signor Alessandro Luzio.
“To have the favour of princes, then, there is no better way than to
deserve it. And when we see another man who is pleasing to a prince for
any reason, we must not think to reach the same height ourselves by
imitating him, for all things are not proper to all men. Thus there will
sometimes be found a man who by nature is so ready at jesting that
whatever he may say carries laughter with it, and he seems to have been
born solely for that; and if another man, who has a sober habit of mind
(however excellently endowed) tries to do the like, it will fall so cold
and flat as to disgust those who hear him, and he will prove exactly
like that ass who tried to copy the dog by frolicking with their
master.[164] Hence every man must understand himself and his own powers,
and govern himself accordingly, and consider what things he ought to
imitate, and what things he ought not.”
21.—Here Vincenzo Calmeta said:
“Before you go on, if I heard aright I think you said awhile ago that
the best way to win favours is to deserve them, and that the Courtier
ought to wait for them to be offered him rather than ask for them
presumptuously. I greatly fear this rule is little to the purpose, and I
think experience very clearly teaches us the contrary. For to-day very
few are favoured by their lords, save the presumptuous; and I know you
can give good testimony as to some, who on finding themselves in small
favour with their princes, have made themselves acceptable solely by
their presumption. While as for those who have risen through modesty, I
for my part do not know any, and I even give you time to think about it
and believe you will find few. And if you consider the court of France,
which is to-day one of the noblest in Christendom, you will find that
all men who have universal favour there are somewhat presumptuous, and
not only towards one another but towards the king himself.”
“Now do not say that,” replied messer Federico; “for in France there are
very modest and courteous gentlemen. It is true that they behave with a
certain freedom and unceremonious familiarity, which are proper and
natural to them; and therefore it ought not to be called presumption,
because in this very manner of theirs, whilst they deride and make sport
of the presumptuous, yet they rate highly those who seem to them to have
worth and modesty.”
Calmeta replied:
“Look at the Spaniards, who it seems are our masters in Courtiership,
and consider how many you will find who are not very presumptuous with
ladies and with gentlemen; and even more so than the French, because at
first sight they show the greatest modesty. And in this they are truly
clever, for as I said, the princes of our time all favour only those who
have such manners.”
22.—Then messer Federico replied:
“I will by no means suffer you, messer Vincenzo, to cast this reproach
upon the princes of our time. For indeed there are also many who love
modesty, which I do not however say alone suffices to make a man
acceptable; but I do say that when united to high worth, it greatly
honours its possessor. And although it be silent about itself,
praiseworthy deeds speak aloud and are far more admirable than if they
were accompanied by presumption and rashness. I will not indeed deny
that there are many presumptuous Spaniards, but I say that those who are
much esteemed are as a rule very modest.
“Again, there are also some men who are so reserved that they shun human
company beyond reason, and so far exceed a certain limit of moderation
that they come to be regarded as either too timid or too proud. For
these I have no praise, nor would I have modesty so dry and arid as to
become clownishness; but let the Courtier be fluent on occasion, and
prudent and sagacious in discussing statecraft, and let him have the
good sense to adapt himself to the customs of the nations where he finds
himself; then in lesser matters let him be agreeable and speak well
about everything.
“But above all, he should make for right; not envious, not evil-tongued:
nor let him ever bring himself to seek grace or favour by foul ways or
dishonourable means.”
Then Calmeta said:
“I assure you that all other ways are more uncertain and longer than
this one which you censure. For to repeat, princes at the present day
love only those who tread that path.”
“Say not so,” then replied messer Federico, “for that would be too clear
an argument that the princes of our time are all vicious and
wicked,—which is not true, since several good ones are to be found. But
if our Courtier should chance to find himself in the service of one who
is vicious and malign, let him depart as soon as he discovers it, lest
he suffer that keen anguish which all good men feel who serve the
wicked.”
“We must needs pray God,” replied Calmeta, “to send us good masters, for
when we have them, we are forced to endure them such as they are;
because an infinity of reasons constrain a gentleman not to leave the
patron he has once begun to serve; but the misfortune consists in
beginning to serve a bad patron, and Courtiers in this condition are
like those unhappy birds that are hatched in a gloomy valley.”
“It seems to me,” said messer Federico, “that duty ought to outweigh all
other reasons. And provided a gentleman does not leave his patron when
at war or in adversity,—lest he be thought to have done so to better his
fortunes or because he feared that he might lack opportunity for gain,—I
think that at any other time he rightly may and ought to leave a service
that is like to disgrace him before all good men; for everyone assumes
that whoever serves the good is good, and that whoever serves the wicked
is wicked.”
23.—Then my lord Ludovico Pio said:
“I should like to have you clear a doubt that is in my mind; that is,
whether a gentleman in the service of a prince is bound to obey him in
all things that he commands, even if they be dishonourable and
infamous.”
“In dishonourable things we are not bound to obey any man,” replied
messer Federico.
“And how,” returned my lord Ludovico, “if I am in the service of a
prince who uses me well and trusts to my doing for him all that can be
done, commanding me to go kill a man or do anything else you
please,—ought I to refuse to do it?”
“You ought,” replied messer Federico, “to obey your lord in all things
that are advantageous and honourable to him, not in those that bring him
injury and disgrace. Therefore if he were to command you to commit an
act of treachery, not only would you not be bound to do it, but you
would be bound not to do it,—both for your own sake and for the sake of
not being a minister to your lord’s disgrace. True it is that many
things which are evil seem at first sight good, and many seem evil and
yet are good. Hence in our lords’ service it is sometimes permitted to
kill not one man but ten thousand, and to do many other things that
would seem evil to a man who did not rightly consider them, and yet are
not evil.”
Then my lord Gaspar Pallavicino replied:
“On your faith, I pray you discuss this a little, and teach us how the
really good can be distinguished from that which only seems so.”
“Pardon me,” said messer Federico; “I am unwilling to enter upon that,
for there would be too much to say; but let the whole matter be left to
your own wisdom.”
24.—“At least clear another doubt for me,” returned my lord Gaspar.
“And what doubt?” said messer Federico.
“It is this,” replied my lord Gaspar. “I should like to know,—my lord
having charged me exactly what I must do in an enterprise or any other
business whatever, if I being engaged upon it think that my doing more
or less or otherwise than I was charged, may make the affair turn out
better and more advantageously for him who gave me the task,—whether I
ought to govern myself by the original plan without exceeding the limits
of my command, or on the contrary to do that which seems to me better.”
Then messer Federico replied:
“In this I should give you the precept and example of Manlius Torquatus
(who in like case slew his son, from too stern a sense of duty), if I
thought he deserved much credit, which I do not.[165] And yet I dare not
blame him against the verdict of so many centuries. For without doubt it
is a very perilous thing to deviate from our superiors’ commands,
relying more on our own judgment than on theirs whom we ought in reason
to obey; because if our expectation fails and the affair turns out ill,
we run into the errour of disobedience and ruin that which we have to
do, without any possibility of excuse or hope of pardon. On the other
hand, if the affair turns out according to our wish, we must give the
credit to fortune and be content at that. Moreover in this way a fashion
is set of rating the commands of our superiors lightly; and following
the example of one man who happened to succeed and who perhaps was
prudent and had reasoned well and been aided by fortune too,—a thousand
other ignorant featherheads will make bold to do as they please in the
most important matters, and for the sake of showing that they are
sagacious and have authority, to deviate from their masters’ commands;
which is a very evil thing and often the cause of numberless mistakes.
“But I think that in such a case the man whom it concerns ought to
consider carefully, and as it were to place in the balance the profit
and advantage that he stands to win by acting contrary to orders, in
case his design turns out according to his hopes; and on the other hand
to weigh the evil and disadvantage that will accrue if the affair
chances to turn out ill through his disobedience of orders. And if he
finds the damage in case of failure to be greater and more serious than
the gain in case of success, he ought to restrain himself and carry out
his orders to the letter; while on the contrary if the gain in case of
success is like to be more serious than the damage in case of failure, I
think he may properly venture to do that which his reason and judgment
dictate, and somewhat disregard the very letter of his orders,—so as to
act like good merchants, who to gain much risk little, but never risk
much to gain little.
“I strongly approve of the Courtier’s observing above all the character
of the prince whom he serves, and of his governing himself accordingly:
for if it be severe, as is the case with many, I should never advise
anyone who was my friend to change one jot the order given him; lest
that might befall him which is recorded as having befallen a master
engineer of the Athenians, to whom Publius Crassus Mucianus,[166] when
he was in Asia and wished to besiege a fortified place, sent to ask for
one of two ship’s masts that he had seen at Athens, in order to make a
ram wherewith to batter down the wall, and said he wished the larger
one. Being very intelligent, the engineer knew that the larger mast was
unsuitable for the purpose, and as the smaller one was easier to
transport and better adapted for making the machine in question, he sent
it to Mucianus. The latter, hearing how things had gone, sent for the
poor engineer, asked why he had disobeyed his orders, and refusing to
listen to any excuse from him, caused him to be stripped naked and so
flogged and scourged with rods that he died, because it seemed to
Mucianus that instead of obeying, the man had tried to offer advice. So
we had best use great caution with these rigourous men.
25.—“But now let us leave this subject of intercourse with princes, and
come to conversation with our equals or with those that are nearly so:
for we must pay heed to this also, since it is universally more
practised and a man more often finds himself engaged in it than in
conversation with princes.
“There are however some simpletons, who, even in the company of the best
friend they have in the world, on meeting a man who is better dressed,
at once attach themselves to him, and then if they happen on one still
better dressed, they do the like to him. And later, when the prince is
passing through the squares or churches or other public places, they
elbow their way past everyone until they reach his side: and even if
they have naught to say to him, they still must talk, and go on
babbling, and laugh and clap their hands and head, to show they have
business of importance, so that the crowd may see them in favour. But
since these fellows deign to speak only with their lords, I would not
have us deign to speak of them.”
26.—Then the Magnifico Giuliano said:
“As you have mentioned those who are so fond of the company of well
dressed men, I should like you to show us, messer Federico, in what
manner the Courtier ought to dress, and what costume is suitable to him,
and in what way he ought to govern himself in all matters of bodily
adornment. For in this we find an infinite variety: some who dress after
the French fashion, some after the Spanish, some who wish to appear
German; nor is there lack of those who even dress after the style of
Turks: some who wear their beards, some not. Hence in this medley it
were well to know how to choose the best.”
Messer Federico said:
“Indeed I should not know how to give a precise rule about dress, except
that a man ought to follow the custom of the majority; and since (as you
say) this custom is so various, and the Italians are so fond of arraying
themselves after foreign fashions, I think every man may dress as he
pleases.
“But I do not know by what fate it happens that Italy has not, as it was
wont to have, a costume that should be recognized as Italian: for
although the putting of these new fashions into use may have made the
former ones seem very rude, yet the old ones were perhaps a badge of
freedom, as the new ones have proved an augury of servitude, which I
think is now very clearly fulfilled.[167] And as it is recorded that
when Darius had the Persian sword which he wore at his side fashioned
after the Macedonian style, the year before he fought with Alexander,
this was interpreted by the soothsayers to signify that they into whose
fashion Darius had transformed his Persian sword, should come to rule
over Persia.[168] So our having changed our Italian garb for that of
strangers seems to signify that all those for whose garb we have
exchanged our own must come to conquer us: which has been but too true,
for there is now left no nation that has not made us its prey: so that
little more is left to prey upon, and yet they do not cease preying upon
us.
27.—“But I do not wish to touch on painful subjects. Therefore it will
be well to speak of our Courtier’s clothes; which I think, provided they
be not out of the common or inappropriate to his profession, may do very
well in other respects if only they satisfy him who wears them. True it
is that I for my part should not like them to be extreme in any wise, as
the French are sometimes wont to be in over amplitude, and the Germans
in over scantiness,—but as they both are, only corrected and improved in
form by the Italians. Moreover I always like them to tend a little
towards the grave and sober rather than the gay. Thus I think black is
more suitable for garments than any other colour is; and if it is not
black, let it at least be somewhat dark. And this I say of ordinary
attire, for there is no doubt that bright and cheerful colours are more
suitable over armour, and for gala use also dress may be fringed, showy
and magnificent; likewise on public occasions, such as festivals, shows,
masquerades, and the like. For such garments carry with them a certain
liveliness and gaiety that accord very well with arms and sports. But
for the rest I would have our Courtier’s dress display that sobriety
which the Spanish nation greatly affect, for things external often bear
witness to the things within.”
Then messer Cesare Gonzaga said:
“This would give me little concern, for if a gentleman is of worth in
other things, his attire will never enhance or lessen his reputation.”
“You say truly,” replied messer Federico. “Yet what one of us is there,
who, on seeing a gentleman pass by with a garment on his back quartered
in divers colours, or with a mass of strings and knotted ribbons and
cross lacings, does not take him for a fool or a buffoon?”
“Neither for a fool,” said messer Pietro Bembo, “nor for a buffoon would
he be taken by anyone who had lived any time in Lombardy, for all men go
about like that.”
“Then,” said my lady Duchess, laughing, “if all men go about like that,
we must not cast it at them as a fault, since this attire is as fitting
and proper to them as it is for the Venetians to wear puffed
sleeves,[169] or for the Florentines to wear the hood.”
“I am not speaking,” said messer Federico, “more of Lombardy than of
other places, for both the foolish and the wise are to be found in every
nation. But to say what I think is important in attire, I wish that our
Courtier may be neat and dainty throughout his dress, and have a certain
air of modest elegance, yet not of a womanish or vain style. Nor would I
have him more careful of one thing than of another, like many we see who
take such pains with their hair that they forget the rest; others devote
themselves to their teeth, others to their beard, others to their boots,
others to their bonnets, others to their coifs;[170] and the result is
that these few details of elegance seem borrowed by them, while all the
rest, being very tasteless, is recognized as their own. And this kind of
dress I would have our Courtier shun, by my advice; adding also that he
ought to consider how he wishes to seem and of what sort he wishes to be
esteemed, and to dress accordingly and contrive that his attire shall
aid him to be so regarded even by those who neither hear him speak nor
witness any act of his.”
28.—Then my lord Gaspar Pallavicino said:
“Methinks it is not fitting, or even customary among persons of worth,
to judge men’s quality by their dress rather than by their words and
acts; for many would make mistakes, nor is it without reason that we
have the proverb, ‘dress makes not the monk.’”
“I do not say,” replied messer Federico, “that fixed opinions of men’s
worth are to be formed only in this way, or that they are not better
known by their words and acts than by their dress: but I do say that
dress is no bad index of the wearer’s fancy, although it may be
sometimes wrong; and not only this, but all ways and manners, as well as
acts and words, are an indication of the qualities of the man in whom
they are seen.”
“And what things do you find,” replied my lord Gaspar, “from which we
may form an opinion, that are neither words nor acts?”
Then messer Federico said:
“You are too subtle a logician. But to tell you what I mean, there are
some acts that still endure after they are performed, such as building,
writing, and the like; others do not endure, such as those I have now in
mind. In this sense, therefore, I do not say that walking, laughing,
looking, and the like, are acts,—and yet all these outward things often
give knowledge of those within. Tell me, did you not judge that friend
of ours, of whom we were speaking only this morning, to be a light and
frivolous man as soon as you saw him walking with that twist of his
head, wriggling about, and with affable demeanour inviting the
by-standers to doff their caps to him? So, too, when you see anyone
gazing too intently with dull eyes after the manner of an idiot, or
laughing as stupidly as those goitrous mutes in the mountains of
Bergamo,[171]—do you not set him down a very simpleton, although he
neither speak nor do aught else? Thus you see that these ways and
manners (which I do not for the present regard as acts) in great measure
make men known to us.
29.—“But another thing seems to me to give and to take away from
reputation greatly, and this is our choice of the friends with whom we
are to live in intimate relations; for doubtless reason requires that
they who are joined in close amity and fast companionship, shall have
their desires, souls, judgments and minds also in accord. Thus, he who
consorts with the ignorant or wicked, is deemed ignorant or wicked; and
on the contrary, he who consorts with the good, the wise, and the
discreet, is himself deemed to be the like. Because by nature everything
seems to join willingly with its like. Therefore I think we ought to use
great care in beginning these friendships, for he who knows one of two
close friends, at once imagines the other to be of the same quality.”
Then messer Pietro Bembo replied:
“I certainly think we ought to take great care to limit ourselves to
friends of like mind with us, as you say, not only because of the gain
or loss of reputation, but because there are to-day very few true
friends to be found, nor do I believe that the world any longer contains
a Pylades and Orestes, a Theseus and Pirithous, or a Scipio and
Lælius.[172] On the contrary, by some fatality it happens every day that
two friends, who have lived in very cordial love for many years, yet in
some way cheat each other at last, either through malice, or jealousy,
or fickleness, or some other evil cause: and each gives the other the
blame which perhaps both deserve.
“Therefore, since it has more than once happened to me to be deceived by
him whom I most loved above every other person, and by whom I was sure I
was loved,—I have sometimes thought to myself that it would be well for
us never to trust anyone in the world, nor so to give ourselves up to
any friend (however dear and loved he be) as to reveal all our thoughts
to him, as we should to ourselves; for there are so many dark corners
and recesses in our minds that it is impossible for human wit to
penetrate the deceptions they conceal. Hence I think it were well to
love and serve one more than another according to merit and worth; yet
never to be so sure of friendship’s sweet enticement, that we at last
have cause to rue our trust.”
30.—Then messer Federico said:
“Verily the loss would be far greater than the gain, if human
intercourse were to be deprived of that highest pitch of friendship
which in my opinion gives us all the good our life has in it; and
therefore I will in no wise admit that what you say is reasonable, nay
rather I venture to assert, and for the clearest reasons, that without
this perfect friendship men would be far unhappier than all other
creatures. And if some profanely stain this sacred name of friendship,
we ought not on that account to uproot it from our hearts, and for the
guilt of the wicked deprive the good of such felicity. And for my part I
think there are here among us more than one pair of friends, whose love
is steadfast and without deceit and lasting unto death with like
desires, no less than if they were those ancients whom you mentioned
awhile ago; and it happens thus when a man chooses a friend, not only
from heaven-born impulse, but like himself in character. And in all this
I am speaking of the good and virtuous, for the friendship of the wicked
is not friendship.
“I am well pleased that so close a tie as this should not join or bind
more than two, for otherwise perhaps it would be dangerous; because, as
you know, it is harder to attune three musical instruments together,
than two. Therefore, I would that our Courtier might have one special
and hearty friend, if possible, of the kind we have described; then that
he might love, honour and respect all others according to their worth
and merits, and always contrive to consort more with such as are in high
esteem and noble and of known virtue, than with the ignoble and those of
little worth; in such wise that he may be loved and honoured by them
also. And he will accomplish this if he be courteous, kind, generous,
affable and mild with others, zealous and active to serve and guard his
friends’ welfare and honour both absent and present, enduring such of
their natural defects as are endurable, without breaking with them for
slight cause, and correcting in himself those that are kindly pointed
out; never thrusting himself before others to reach the first and most
honoured places; nor acting like some, who seem to despise the world and
insist with a kind of tiresome preciseness on laying down the law for
everyone, and who, besides being unseasonably contentious in every
little thing, censure that which they do not do themselves, and are
always seeking occasion for complaint against their friends,—which is a
very odious thing.”
31.—Messer Federico pausing here, my lord Gaspar Pallavicino said:
“I should like to have you speak a little more in detail than you do
about this matter of converse with our friends; for in truth you keep
much to generalities, and show us things in passing, as it were.”
“How ‘in passing’?” replied messer Federico. “Perhaps you would have me
tell the very words that you must use? Do you not think we have talked
enough about this?”
“Enough I think,” replied my lord Gaspar. “Yet I should like to hear a
few more details about the manner of intercourse with men and women; for
the thing seems to me of great importance, seeing that most of our time
at courts is given to it; and if it were always the same, it would soon
become tedious.”
“I think,” replied messer Federico, “we have given the Courtier
knowledge of so many things, that he can easily vary his conversation
and adapt himself to the quality of the persons with whom he has to do,
presupposing he has good sense and governs himself by it, and sometimes
turns to grave matters and sometimes to festivals and games, according
to the occasion.”
“And what games?” said my lord Gaspar.
Then messer Federico replied, laughing:
“Let us ask advice of Fra Serafino, who invents new ones every day.”
“Jesting apart,” answered my lord Gaspar, “do you think it would be a
vice in the Courtier to play at cards and dice?”
“Not I,” said messer Federico, “unless he did so too constantly and
neglected more important matters for them, or indeed unless he played
for nothing else but to win money, and cheated the company, and showed
such grief and vexation at losing as to argue himself a miser.”
“And what,” replied my lord Gaspar, “do you say of the game of chess?”
“It is certainly a pleasant and ingenious amusement,” said messer
Federico. “But I think there is one defect in it. And that is, there is
too much to know, so that whoever would excel in the game of chess must
spend much time on it, methinks, and give it as much study as if he
would learn some noble science or do anything else of importance you
please; and yet in the end with all his pains he has learned nothing but
a game. Therefore I think a very unusual thing is true of it, namely
that mediocrity is more praiseworthy than excellence.”
My lord Gaspar replied:
“Many Spaniards excel in this and divers other games, yet without giving
them much study or neglecting other things.”
“Believe me,” replied messer Federico, “they do give much study thereto,
although covertly. But those other games you speak of, besides chess,
are perhaps like many I have seen played (although of little moment),
which serve only to make the vulgar marvel; wherefore methinks they
deserve no other praise or reward than that which Alexander the Great
gave the fellow who at a good distance impaled chick-peas on the point
of a needle.[173]
32.—“But since it appears that fortune exerts immense power over men’s
opinions as over many other things, we sometimes see that a gentleman,
however well conditioned he may be and endowed with many graces, is
unacceptable to a prince, and goes against the grain as we say;[174] and
this without any apparent reason, so that as soon as he comes into the
prince’s presence and before he is known by the others, although he be
keen and ready with retorts, and display himself to advantage in
gestures, manners, words, and all else that is becoming,—the prince will
show small esteem for him, nay will soon put some affront upon him. And
thus it will come about that the others will follow the prince’s lead,
and everyone will regard the man as of little worth, nor will there be
any to prize or esteem him, or laugh at his amusing talk or hold him in
any respect; nay, all will begin to deride and persecute him. Nor will
it be enough for the poor man to make good retorts or take things as if
said in jest, for the very pages will set upon him, so that even if he
were the sturdiest man in the world, he must perforce remain foiled and
ridiculed.
“And on the other hand, if the prince shows favour to a very dolt, who
knows neither how to speak nor how to act,—his manners and ways (however
silly and uncouth they be) will often be praised by everyone with
exclamations and astonishment, and the whole court will seem to admire
and respect him, and everyone will appear to laugh at his jests and at
certain rustic and stupid jokes that ought to excite rather disgust than
laughter: to such degree are men firm and fixed in the opinions that are
engendered by the favour and disfavour of lords.
“Therefore I would have our Courtier set off his worth as best he can,
with cleverness and skill, and whenever he has to go where he is strange
and unknown, let him take care that good opinion of him precedes him,
and see to it that men there shall know of his being highly rated in
other places, among other lords, ladies and gentlemen; for that fame
which seems to spring from many judgments, begets a kind of firm belief
in a man’s worth, which, in minds thus disposed and prepared, is then
easily maintained and increased by his conduct: moreover he escapes that
annoyance which I feel when asked who I am and what my name is.”
33.—“I do not see how this can help,” replied messer Bernardo Bibbiena;
“for it has several times happened to me, and I think to many others,
that having been led by the word of persons of judgment to imagine
something to be of great excellence before I saw it,—on seeing it I
found it paltry and was much disappointed of what I expected. And the
reason was simply that I had put too much trust in report and formed in
my mind so high an expectation, that although the real thing was great
and excellent, yet when afterwards measured by the fact, it seemed very
paltry by comparison with what I had imagined. And I fear it may be so
with our Courtier too. Therefore I do not see the advantage of raising
such expectations and sending our fame before us; for the mind often
imagines things that it is impossible to fulfil, and thus we lose more
than we gain.”
Here messer Federico said:
“The things that you and many others find inferior to their reputation,
are for the most part of such sort that the eye can judge of them at a
glance,—as if you had never been at Naples or Rome, and from hearing
them so much talked of, you were to imagine something far beyond what
they afterwards proved to be when seen; but such is not the case with
men’s character, because that which is outwardly seen is the least part.
Thus, on first hearing a gentleman speak, if you should not find in him
that worth which you had previously imagined, you would not at once
reverse your good opinion of him, as you would in those matters whereof
the eye is instant judge, but you would wait from day to day to discover
some other hidden virtue, still holding fast to the good impression you
had received from so many lips; and later, if he were thus richly
endowed (as I assume our Courtier to be), your confidence in his
reputation would be hourly confirmed, because his acts would justify it,
and you would be always imagining something more than you saw.
34.—“And surely it cannot be denied that these first impressions have
very great weight, and that we ought to be very careful regarding them.
And to the end that you may see how important they are, I tell you that
in my time I knew a gentleman, who, while he was of very gentle aspect
and modest manners and also valiant in arms, yet did not so greatly
excel in any of these things but that he had many equals and even
superiors. However, fate so willed that a lady chanced to fall most
ardently in love with him, and her love increasing daily with the signs
that the young man gave of loving her in return, and there being no way
for them to speak together, she was moved by excess of passion to reveal
her desires to another lady through whom she hoped to secure some
assistance. This lady was in no wise inferior to the first in rank or
beauty; whence it came to pass, that on hearing the young man (whom she
had never seen) spoken of so tenderly, and perceiving that he was
extravagantly loved by her friend (whom she knew to be very discreet and
of excellent judgment), she straightway imagined him to be the
handsomest and wisest and most discreet and in short the most lovable
man in the world. And thus, without having seen him, she became so
passionately enamoured of him, that she began making every effort to
secure him, not for her friend but for herself, and inducing him to
return her love: which she succeeded in doing with little effort, for in
truth she was a lady rather to be wooed than to woo others.
“Now hear the end of my tale. Not long afterwards it happened that a
letter, which this second lady had written to her lover, fell into the
hands of still another lady, also very noble and of good character and
rarest beauty,—who, being like most ladies curious and eager to learn
secrets and especially other ladies’, opened this letter, and on reading
it saw that it was written with the fervour of ardent love. And the
sweet, impassioned words that she read first moved her to compassion for
that lady, for she well knew from whom the letter came and to whom it
was going; then they gained such power, that as she turned them over in
her mind and considered what sort of man he must be who could arouse
such love in the lady, she too straightway fell in love with him; and
the letter had perhaps a greater effect than if it had been sent by the
young man to her. And as it sometimes happens that a poisoned dish,
intended for a prince, kills the first comer who tastes it, so in her
over greediness this poor lady drank the love poison that had been
prepared for another.
“What more shall I say? The affair became well known, and spread abroad
so that many other ladies besides these, partly to spite the others and
partly to imitate them, used every effort and pains to possess
themselves of the man’s love, and contended for it with one another as
boys contend for cherries. And all this began with the first impression
of that lady who saw him so beloved by another.”
35.—Here my lord Gaspar Pallavicino replied, laughing:
“To give reasons in support of your opinion, you cite the doings of
women, who for the most part are quite unreasonable. And if you cared to
tell the whole truth, this favourite of so many women must have been a
dunce and at bottom a man of little worth. For their way is always to
favour the meanest, and like sheep to do what they see others doing,
whether it be good or evil. Moreover they are so jealous among
themselves, that even if the man had been a monster, they would have
tried to steal him from one another.”
Here many began to speak, and nearly everyone wanted to contradict my
lord Gaspar; but my lady Duchess imposed silence on all, and then said,
laughing:
“If the evil you say of women were not so far from the truth, that the
saying of it casts blame and shame on him who says it rather than on
them, I should allow you to be answered. But I am not willing that, by
being confronted with the arguments which it is possible to cite, you
should be cured of this evil habit, in order that you may suffer very
grievous punishment for your fault: which shall be the bad opinion
wherein you will be held by all who hear you argue in such fashion.”
[Illustration:
GIACOPO SANNAZARO
1458-1530
]
Head enlarged from a photograph, specially made by Alinari, of a part of
the fresco, “Leo X’s Entry into Florence,” in the Palazzo Vecchio at
Florence, by Giorgio Vasari (1511-1574). See Milanesi’s edition of
Vasari’s _Opere_, viii, 142.
Then messer Federico replied:
“My lord Gaspar, do not say that women are so very unreasonable, even if
they are sometimes moved to love by others’ judgment rather than by
their own; for gentlemen and many wise men do the same. And if I may say
the truth, you yourself and all the rest of us here do often and even
now trust more to the opinion of others than to our own. And in proof of
this, it is not long ago that certain verses, handed about this court
under the name of Sannazaro,[175] seemed very excellent to everyone and
were praised with wonder and applause; then, it being known for certain
that they were by another hand, they promptly sank in reputation and
were thought less than mediocre. And a certain motet,[176] which was
sung before my lady Duchess, found no favour and was not thought good
until it was known to be the work of Josquin de Près.[177]
“What clearer proof of the weight of opinion would you have? Do you not
remember that in drinking a certain wine, you at one time pronounced it
perfect, and at another most insipid? And this because you believed
there were two kinds of wine, one from the Genoese Riviera, and the
other from this country; and even when the mistake was discovered, you
would not at all believe it,—so firmly fixed in your mind was that wrong
opinion, although you had received it from the report of others.
36.—“Hence the Courtier ought to take great care to make a good
impression at the start, and to consider how mischievous and fatal a
thing it is to do otherwise. And they of all men run this danger, who
pride themselves on being very amusing and on having acquired by these
pleasantries of theirs a certain freedom that makes it proper and
permissible for them to do and say whatever occurs to them, without
taking thought about it. Thus they often begin a thing they know not how
to finish, and then try to help matters by raising a laugh; and yet they
do this so clumsily that it does not succeed, insomuch that they rouse
the utmost disgust in him who sees or hears them, and fail most
lamentably.
“Sometimes, thinking it to be droll and witty, they say the foulest and
most indecent things before and even to honourable ladies; and the more
they make these ladies blush, the more they rate themselves good
Courtiers, and they laugh and pride themselves on having such a fine
accomplishment, as they deem it. Yet they commit all this folly with no
other aim than to be esteemed jovial fellows: this is the one name which
seems to them worthy of praise and of which they boast more than of any
other; and to acquire it, they utter the grossest and most shameful
vileness in the world. Often they throw one another down-stairs, clap
billets of wood and bricks on one another’s backs, cast handfulls of
dust in one another’s eyes, make one another’s horses run into ditches
or down some hill; then at table they throw soups, sauces, jellies and
every kind of thing in one another’s faces:[178] and then they laugh.
And he who can excel the others in these things, esteems himself to be
the best Courtier and the most gallant, and thinks he has won great
glory. And if they sometimes invite a gentleman to these carouses of
theirs, and he does not choose to join in their unmannerly jokes, they
at once say he stands too much on his dignity, and holds himself aloof,
and is not a jovial fellow. But I have worse to tell you. There are some
who rival one another and award the palm to him who can eat and drink
the vilest and most offensive things; and they devise dishes so
abhorrent to human sense that it is impossible to recall them without
extreme disgust.”
37.—“And what may these be?” said my lord Ludovico Pio.
Messer Federico replied:
“Ask the Marquess Febus, who has often seen them in France, and perhaps
has taken part.”
The Marquess Febus replied:
“I have seen none of these things done in France that are not done in
Italy as well. But what is good among the Italians in dress, sports,
banquets, handling arms, and in everything else that befits a
Courtier,—all comes from the French.”
Messer Federico replied:
“I do not say that very noble and modest cavaliers are not also to be
found among the French, and I myself have known many who were truly
worthy of every praise. But some are little circumspect, and generally
speaking it seems to me that as regards breeding the Spaniards have more
in common with the Italians than the French have; because that grave
reserve peculiar to the Spaniards befits us far more than the quick
vivacity which among the French we see in almost every movement, and
which is not unseemly in them, nay is charming, for it is so natural and
proper to them as not to seem at all affected. There are very many
Italians who earnestly strive to copy this manner; and they can only
shake their heads in speaking and make clumsy crosswise bows, and walk
so fast that their lackeys cannot keep up with them when they pass
through the city. And with these ways they seem to themselves to be good
Frenchmen and to have the same freedom of manner, which in truth rarely
happens save with those who have been bred in France and have acquired
the manner in their youth.
“The same is true of knowing many languages; which I approve highly in
the Courtier, especially Spanish and French, because the intercourse of
both these nations with Italy is very frequent, and they have more in
common with us than any of the others have; and their two princes,[179]
being very powerful in war and very glorious in peace, always have their
courts full of noble cavaliers, who spread throughout the world; and it
is necessary for us also to converse with them.
38.—“I do not care at present to go more into detail in speaking of
things that are too well known, such as that our Courtier ought not to
avow himself a great eater or drinker, or given to excess in any evil
habit, or vile and ungoverned in his life, with certain peasant ways
that recall the hoe and plough a thousand miles away; because a man of
this kind not only may not hope to become a good Courtier, but can be
set to no more fitting business than feeding sheep.
“And finally I say it were well for the Courtier to know perfectly that
which we have said befits him, so that every possible thing may be easy
to him, and everyone may marvel at him,—he at no one. But be it
understood that there ought not to be in him that lofty and ungenial
indifference which some men have who show they are not surprised at what
others do because they imagine they can do it better, and who disparage
it by silence as not worth speaking of; and they almost seem to imply
that no one is their equal or even able to fathom the profundity of
their knowledge. Wherefore the Courtier ought to shun these odious ways,
and to praise the fine achievements of other men with kindness and good
will; and although he may feel that he is admirable and far superior to
all, yet he ought to appear not to think so.
“But since such complete perfection as this is very rarely and perhaps
never found in human nature, a man who is conscious of being lacking in
some particular, ought not to despond thereat or lose hope of reaching a
high standard, even though he cannot attain that perfect and supreme
excellence to which he aspires. For in every art there are many grades
that are honourable besides the highest, and whoever aims at the highest
will seldom fail to rise more than half-way. Therefore if our Courtier
excels in anything besides arms, I would have him get profit and esteem
from it in fine fashion; and I would have him so discreet and sensible
as to be able with skill and address to attract men to see and hear that
wherein he thinks he excels, always appearing not to do it from
ostentation, but by chance and at others’ request rather than by his own
wish. And in everything he has to do or say, let him if possible come
ready and prepared, yet appearing to act impromptu throughout. In those
things, however, wherein he feels himself to be mediocre, let him touch
in passing, without dwelling much upon them, albeit in such fashion that
he may be thought to know more about them than he shows himself to know:
like certain poets, who sometimes touched lightly upon the profoundest
depths of philosophy and other sciences, of which perhaps they
understood little. Then, in that of which he knows he is wholly
ignorant, I would never have him make any pretence or seek to win any
fame; nay if need be, let him frankly confess his ignorance.”
[Illustration:
LEONARDO DA VINCI
“...ONE OF THE FIRST PAINTERS OF THE WORLD...”
1452-1519
]
Reduced from Braun’s photograph (no. 79.207) of Leonardo’s drawing in
the Royal Library at Windsor. For an account of this and other less
authentic portraits, see Müntz’s life of Leonardo da Vinci (London:
1898), ii, 225 _et seq._
39.—“That,” said Calmeta, “is not what Nicoletto[180] would have done,
who was a very excellent philosopher but knew no more about law than
about flying. When a Podestà[181] of Padua had decided to give him a
lectureship in law, he was never willing (although urged thereto by many
scholars) to undeceive the Podestà and confess his ignorance,—always
saying that he did not agree with the opinion of Socrates in this
matter, and that it was not seemly for a philosopher ever to say that he
was ignorant of anything.”
Messer Federico replied:
“I do not say that of his own notion and unasked by others, the Courtier
should volunteer to tell his ignorance; for I too dislike this folly of
self-accusal and depreciation. And therefore I sometimes inwardly laugh
at certain men, who needlessly and of their own accord narrate things
that perhaps occurred without their fault but yet imply a shade of
disgrace; like a cavalier whom you all know, and who, whenever he heard
mention made of the battle that was fought against King Charles in the
Parmesan,[182] at once began to tell the manner of his flight, nor
seemed to have seen or heard aught else that day; again, speaking of a
certain famous joust, he always described how he had fallen, and in his
conversation he often seemed to seek an opportunity to tell how he had
received a sound cudgelling one night as he was on his way to meet a
lady.
“I would not have our Courtier tell such follies. It seems to me,
however, that when occasion offers for displaying himself in something
of which he is quite ignorant, he ought to avoid it; and if compelled by
necessity, he ought to confess his ignorance frankly rather than put
himself to that risk. And in this way he will escape the censure that
many nowadays deserve, who from some perverse instinct or unreasonable
design always set themselves to do that which they do not know, and
forsake that which they do know. And as an instance of this, I know a
very excellent musician, who, having abandoned music, gave himself up
wholly to composing verses, and thinks himself very great therein, and
makes all men laugh at him; and now he has lost even his music.
“Another man, one of the first painters of the world, despises the art
wherein he is most rare, and has set himself to study philosophy; in
which he has such strange conceptions and new chimeras, that he could
not with all his painter’s art depict them.[183] And of such as these, a
countless number could be found.
“Some indeed there are who know they excel in one thing and yet make
their chief business of another, of which they are not ignorant either;
but every time they have occasion to display themselves in that wherein
they feel themselves proficient, they do it gallantly. And it sometimes
comes to pass that the company, seeing them do well in that which is not
their profession, think they can do far better in that which they make
their profession. This art, if it be accompanied by good judgment, is by
no means unpleasing to me.”
40.—Then my lord Gaspar Pallavicino replied:
“This seems to me not art but mere deceit; nor do I think it fitting for
him who would be a man of honour, ever to deceive.”
“It is an embellishment, which graces what he does,” said messer
Federico, “rather than deceit; and even if it be deceit, it is not to be
censured. Will you not also say that of two men fencing, the one who
touches the other, deceives him? And this is because the one has more
art than the other. And if you have a jewel that is beautiful without
setting, and it afterwards comes into the hands of a good goldsmith, who
by skilful setting makes it look far more beautiful, will you not say
that this goldsmith deceives the eyes of anyone who sees it? And yet he
deserves praise for his deceit, for with good judgment and art his
master hand often adds grace and beauty to ivory or silver, or to a
beautiful stone by encircling it with fine gold. Therefore let us not
say that art,—or such deceit as this, if you will call it so,—deserves
any censure.
“Nor is it unseemly for a man who is conscious of doing something well,
dexterously to seek occasion for showing himself therein, and at the
same time to conceal what he thinks undeserving of praise,—but always
with a touch of wary dissimulation. Do you not remember that without
appearing to seek them, King Ferdinand[32] found opportunities now and
then to go about in his doublet? and this because he felt himself to be
very agile; and that, as his hands were not over good, he rarely or
almost never took off his gloves? And there were very few that perceived
his cunning. Moreover I think I have read that Julius Cæsar liked to
wear the laurel wreath to hide his baldness.[184] But in all these
matters it is needful to be very cautious and to use good judgment, in
order not to go beyond bounds; for in avoiding one errour a man often
runs into another, and in his wish to win praise, receives censure.
41.—“Hence in our mode of life and conversation, it is a very safe thing
to govern ourselves with a certain decorous discretion, which in truth
is a very great and very strong shield against envy, which we ought to
avoid as much as possible. Moreover I wish our Courtier to guard against
getting the name of a liar or a boaster, which sometimes befalls even
those who do not deserve it. Therefore in his talk let him always take
care not to go beyond the probable, and also not to tell too often those
truths that have the look of falsehood,[185]—like many who never speak
save of miracles, and wish to carry such authority that every incredible
thing shall be believed from them. Others, at the beginning of a
friendship and in order to gain favour with their new friend, swear the
first day they speak with him that there is no one in the world whom
they love more than him, and that they would gladly die to do him
service, and like things beyond reason. And when they part from him,
they pretend to weep and to be unable to speak a word from grief. Thus,
in their wish to be thought very loving, they come to be esteemed liars
and silly flatterers.
“But it would be too long and tedious to recount all the faults that may
be committed in our manner of conversation. Hence as regards what I
desire in the Courtier, let it suffice to say, besides the things
already said, that he should be of such sort as never to be without
something to say that is good and well suited to those with whom he is
speaking, and that he should know how to refresh the minds of his
hearers with a certain sweetness, and by his amusing witticisms and
pleasantries to move them cleverly to mirth and laughter, so that
without ever becoming tedious or producing satiety, he may give pleasure
continually.
42.—“At last I think my lady Emilia will give me leave to be silent. And
if she refuse me, I shall by my own talk stand convicted of not being
the good Courtier whereof I have spoken for not only does good talk
(which perhaps you have neither now nor ever heard from me), but even
such talk as I usually have at command (whatever that may be worth),
quite fail me.”
Then my lord Prefect said, laughing:
“I am not willing to let this false opinion,—that you are not a most
admirable Courtier,—rest in the mind of any of us; for it is certain
that your desire to be silent proceeds rather from a wish to escape
labour than from lack of something to say. So, to the end that nothing
may seem to be neglected in such worthy company as this and such
admirable talk, be pleased to teach us how we must employ the
pleasantries that you have just mentioned, and to show us the art that
pertains to all this kind of amusing talk, so as to excite laughter and
mirth in gentle fashion; for indeed methinks it is very important and
well befitting the Courtier.”
“My Lord,” replied messer Federico, “pleasantries and witticisms are the
gift and grace of nature rather than of art; but in this matter certain
nations are to be found more ready than others, like the Tuscans, who in
truth are very clever. It seems to me that the use of witticism is very
natural to the Spaniards too. Yet there are many, both of these and of
all other nations, who from over loquacity sometimes go beyond bounds
and become silly and pointless, because they do not consider the kind of
person with whom they are speaking, the place where they are, the
occasion, or the soberness and modesty which they ought above all things
to maintain.”
43.—Then my lord Prefect replied:
“You deny that there is any art in pleasantries, and yet by speaking ill
of those who use them not with modesty and soberness and who regard not
the occasion and the persons with whom they are speaking, methinks you
show that even this can be taught and has some method in it.”
“These rules, my Lord,” replied messer Federico, “are so universal that
they fit and apply to everything. But I said there is no art in
pleasantries, because I think there are only two kinds of them to be
found: one of which stretches out in long and continuous talk, as we see
in the case of certain men who narrate and describe so gracefully and
amusingly something that has happened to them or that they have seen or
heard, that they set it before our eyes with gestures and words and
almost make us touch it with the hand; and for lack of other word, we
may perhaps call this the humourous or urbane manner. The other kind of
witticism is very short, and consists solely in sayings that are quick
and sharp, such as are often heard among us, or biting; nor are they
acceptable unless they sting a little. By the ancients also they were
called apothegms: at present some call them _arguzie_.[186]
“So I say that in the first kind, which is humourous narrative, there is
no need of any art, because nature herself creates and fashions men
fitted to narrate amusingly, and gives them features, gestures, voice
and words proper to imitate what they will. In the other kind, that of
_arguzie_, what can art avail? For whatever it be, a pungent saying must
dart forth and hit the mark before he who utters it shall seem to have
given it a thought; otherwise it is flat and has no savour. Therefore I
think it is all the work of intellect and nature.”
Then messer Pietro Bembo took up the talk, and said:
“My lord Prefect does not deny what you say, that nature and intellect
play the chief part, especially as regards conception. Still it is
certain that every man’s mind, however fine his intellect may be,
conceives both good things and bad, and more or less; yet judgment and
art then polish and correct them, and cull out the good and reject the
bad. So lay aside what pertains to intellect, and explain to us what
consists in art; that is, of the pleasantries and witticisms that excite
laughter, tell us what are befitting the Courtier and what are not, and
in what time and way they should be used; for this is what my lord
Prefect asks of you.”
44.—Then messer Federico said laughingly:
“There is no one of us here to whom I do not yield in everything, and
especially in being jocular; unless perhaps nonsense, which often makes
others laugh more than bright sayings, be also counted as pleasantry.”
And then turning to Count Ludovico and to messer Bernardo Bibbiena, he
said: “Here are the masters of witticism, from whom I must first learn
what to say if I am to speak of jocose sayings.”[187]
Count Ludovico replied:
“Methinks you are already beginning to practise what you say you know
nothing of, I mean in that you try to make these gentlemen laugh by
ridiculing messer Bernardo and me; for every one of them knows you far
excel us in that for which you praise us. If you are fatigued, then, you
had better beg my lady Duchess to postpone the rest of our talk until
to-morrow, instead of trying to escape fatigue by subterfuge.”
Messer Federico began to make answer, but my lady Emilia quickly
interrupted him and said:
“It is not in order for the discussion to spend itself in your praises;
it is enough that you are all well known. But as I remember, Sir Count,
that you accused me last evening of not distributing the labour equally,
it were well to let messer Federico rest awhile, and to give messer
Bernardo Bibbiena the task of speaking about pleasantries, because we
not only know him to be very amusing in continuous talk, but we remember
that he has several times promised us to try to write upon this subject,
and hence we may believe that he has already thought much about it, and
therefore ought to satisfy us fully. Afterwards, when we have finished
discussing pleasantries, messer Federico shall go on with what he has
left to say about the Courtier.”
Thereupon messer Federico said:
“My Lady, I do not know what I have left to say; but like the wayfarer
at noon, weary with the fatigue of his long journey, I will refresh
myself with messer Bernardo’s talk and the sound of his words, as if
under some delightful and shady tree, with the soft murmur of a plashing
spring. Then perhaps, being revived a little, I shall be able to say
something more.”
Messer Bernardo replied, laughing:
“If I show you my head, you shall see what shade is to be expected from
the leafage of my tree.[188] As for listening to the murmur of that
plashing spring, perhaps you may; for I was once turned into a spring,
not by any of the ancient gods but by our friend Fra Mariano,[60] and I
have never stood in need of water from then till now.”
Then everyone began to laugh, for this pleasantry referred to by messer
Bernardo happened at Rome in the presence of Cardinal Galeotto of San
Pietro ad Vincula,[189] and was well known to all.
45.—The laughter having ceased, my lady Emilia said:
“Now stop making us laugh by your use of pleasantries, and teach us how
we are to use them, and from what they are derived, and all you know
about the subject. And to lose no more time, begin at once.”
[Illustration:
BERNARDO DOVIZI DA BIBBIENA
1470-1520
]
Reduced from Braun’s photograph (no. 42.158) of the portrait, in the
Pitti Gallery at Florence, long attributed to Raphael (1483-1520),
but regarded by Morelli as the work of a pupil.
“I fear,” said messer Bernardo, “that the hour is late; and to the end
that my talk about pleasantries may not itself lack pleasantry and be
tedious, perhaps it will be well to postpone it until to-morrow.”
Here many replied together that it was still far from the usual hour for
ending the discussion. Then, turning to my lady Duchess and to my lady
Emilia, messer Bernardo said:
“I do not wish to escape this task; although, just as I am wont to
marvel at the presumption of those who venture to sing to the viol
before our friend Giacomo Sansecondo,[190] so I ought not to talk about
pleasantries before an audience who understand what I should say far
better than I.
“However, not to give any of these gentlemen a pretext for refusing the
charge that may be laid upon them, I will tell as briefly as I can what
occurs to me concerning the causes that excite laughter; which is so
peculiar to us that in defining man we are wont to say that he is a
laughing animal. For laughter is found only among men, and is nearly
always the sign of a certain hilarity felt inwardly in the mind, which
is by nature drawn towards amusement and longs for repose and
recreation; wherefore we see many things devised by men to this end,
such as festivals and different kinds of shows. And since we love those
who furnish us this recreation, it was the custom of ancient rulers
(Roman, Athenian and many others), in order to gain the people’s good
will and to feast the eyes and minds of the multitude, to erect great
theatres and other public edifices, and therein to exhibit new sports,
horse and chariot races, combats, strange beasts, comedies, tragedies
and mimes. Nor were such shows eschewed by grave philosophers, who in
sports of this kind and banquets often relaxed their minds when fatigued
by lofty discourse and spiritual meditation; which thing all kinds of
men also like to do: for not only toilers in the field, sailors, and all
those who perform hard and rough labour with their hands, but holy
priests, and prisoners awaiting death from hour to hour, all seek
continually some remedy and solace for their refreshment. Hence
everything that moves to laughter, cheers the mind and gives pleasure,
and for the moment frees us from the memory of those weary troubles of
which our life is full. So laughter, as you see, is very delightful to
all, and greatly to be praised is he who excites it reasonably and in a
graceful way.
“But what laughter is, and where it abides, and how it sometimes seizes
upon our veins, eyes, mouths and sides, and seems as if it would make us
burst, so that with all our effort it cannot be restrained,—I will leave
Democritus to tell, who could not even if he were to promise.[191]
46.—“Now the occasion and as it were the source from which the laughable
springs, lies in a kind of distortion; for we laugh only at those things
that have incongruity in them and that seem amiss without being so. I
know not how to explain it otherwise; but if you think of it yourselves,
you will see that what we laugh at is nearly always something that is
incongruous and yet is not amiss.
“Next I will try to tell you, as far as my judgment shall show me, what
the means are that the Courtier ought to use for the purpose of exciting
laughter, and within what bounds; because it is not seemly for the
Courtier to be always making men laugh, nor yet by those means that are
made use of by fools or drunken men, by the silly, the nonsensical, and
likewise by buffoons. And although these kinds of men seem to be in
demand at courts, yet they deserve not to be called Courtiers, but each
by his own name, and to be held for what they are.
“Moreover we must diligently consider the bounds and limits of exciting
laughter by derision, and who it is we deride; for laughter is not
aroused by jeering at a poor unfortunate nor yet at an open rascal and
blackguard, because the latter seems to merit greater punishment than
that of being ridiculed, and the mind of man is not prone to flout the
wretched, unless they boast of their wretchedness and are proud and
saucy. We ought also to treat with respect those who are universal
favourites and beloved by all and powerful, for by jeering at these
persons a man may sometimes bring dangerous enmities upon himself. Yet
it is proper to flout and laugh at the vices of those who are neither so
wretched as to excite pity, nor so wicked as to seem worthy of capital
punishment, nor so great that a touch of their wrath can do much harm.
47.—“Again, you must know that from the same occasion whence we draw our
laughable witticisms, we may likewise draw serious phrases of praise or
censure, and sometimes by using the same words. Thus in praising a
generous man who shares all he has with his friends, we are wont to say
that what he has is not his own; the same may be said in censuring a man
who has stolen or by other evil means acquired what he possesses. Also
we say, ‘That lady is of great price,’ meaning to praise her for
discretion and goodness; the same thing might be said in dispraise of
her, implying that anyone may have her.
“But for this purpose we have a chance to use the same situations
oftener than the same words. Thus recently a lady being at mass in
church with three cavaliers, one of whom served her in love,[192] a poor
beggar came up and taking his stand before the lady began to beg alms of
her; and he repeated his petition several times to her with much
importunity and pitiful groaning; yet for all that she gave him no alms,
nor still did she refuse it to him with a sign to go in peace, but
continued to stand abstracted as if she were thinking of something else.
Then the cavalier in love said to his two companions:
“‘You see what I have to expect from my lady, who is so hard-hearted
that she not only gives no alms to that naked starving wretch who is
begging it of her so eagerly and often, but she will not even send him
away. So much does she delight to see a man languishing in misery before
her and vainly imploring her pity.’
“One of his two friends replied:
“‘This is not hardness of heart, but a silent lesson from the lady to
teach you that she is never pleased with an importunate suitor.’
“The other replied:
“‘Nay, it is a warning to him that while she never grants what is asked
of her, still she likes to be entreated for it.’
“You see how the lady’s failure to send the poor man away, gave rise to
one saying of grave censure, one of moderate praise, and another of
biting satire.
48.—“Proceeding now to declare the kinds of pleasantries that are
pertinent to our subject, I say that in my opinion there are three
varieties, although messer Federico mentioned only two: namely, that
which consists in rendering the effect of a thing by means of urbane and
amusing long narrative, and that which consists in the swift and keen
readiness of a single phrase. But we will add a third sort called
practical joking, in which long narratives and short sayings have place,
and also some action.
“Now the first, which consists in continuous talk, is of such sort as
almost to amount to story-telling. And to give you an instance: just at
the time when Pope Alexander the Sixth died and Pius the Third was
created pope,[193] your fellow Mantuan, my lady Duchess, messer Antonio
Agnello,[194] being at Rome and in the palace, happened to speak of the
death of the one pope and of the other’s creation, and in discussing
this with some of his friends, he said:
“‘My Lords, even in the days of Catullus[195] doors began to speak
without a tongue and to listen without ears, and thus to reveal
adulteries. Now, although men are not of such worth as they were in
those times, it may be that the doors (many of which are made of antique
marbles, at least here in Rome) have the same powers that they then had;
and for my part I believe that these two here could clear away all our
doubts if we cared to learn from them.’
“Then the gentlemen present were very curious, and waited to see how the
affair was going to end. Whereupon messer Antonio, continuing to walk up
and down, raised his eyes as if by chance to one of the two doors of the
hall in which they were strolling, stopped a moment, and pointed out to
his companions the inscription over it, which was the name of Pope
Alexander, followed by a V and an I, signifying Sixth as you know; and
he said:
“‘See what the door says: _Alessandro Papa vi_, which means that he
became pope by the violence that he used, and that he accomplished more
by violence than by reason. Now let us see if from the other we can
learn anything about the new pope.’ And turning to the other door as if
by accident, he showed the inscription, N PP V, which signified
_Nicolaus Papa Quintus_;[196] and he at once said: ‘Alas, bad news; this
one says, _Nihil Papa Valet_.’
[Illustration:
POPE ALEXANDER VI
RODERIGO LENZUOLI (BORGIA)
1431-1503
]
Reduced from Alinari’s photograph (no. 17412) of a part of the fresco,
“The Resurrection,” in the Borgian Apartments in the Vatican, by
Bernardino di Betto di Biagio, better known as Pinturicchio,
(1454-1513).
49.—“Now you see how elegant and admirable this kind of pleasantry is,
and how becoming to a Courtier, whether the thing that is said be true
or not; because in such a case it is allowable for a man to fabricate as
much as he pleases, without blame; and in speaking the truth, to adorn
it with a little falsity, overstating or understating as the occasion
requires. But in these matters perfect grace and true cleverness consist
in picturing forth what we wish to say, with both word and gesture, so
well and with such ease that they who hear may seem to see before their
eyes the thing we tell them. And this graphic method is so effective
that it sometimes adorns and makes highly amusing a thing that in itself
is neither very jocular nor clever.
“And although this kind of narrative requires gesture and the aid of the
speaking voice, its quality is sometimes found in written compositions
also. Who does not laugh, when, in the Eighth Day of his Decameron,[197]
Giovanni Boccaccio tells how the priest of Varlungo tried to chant a
_Kyrie_ and a _Sanctus_ on discovering that his Belcolore was in the
church. There are amusing narratives also in his stories of
Calandrino,[198] and in many others. Of the same sort seems to be the
raising of a laugh by mimicry or imitation, as we say,—wherein I have
thus far seen no one more admirable than our friend messer Roberto da
Bari.”[48]
50.—“This would be no small praise,” said messer Roberto, “if it were
true; because I should of course try to imitate the good rather than the
bad, and if I could make myself like some men I know, I should deem
myself very fortunate. I fear, however, that I know how to imitate only
those things which excite laughter, and which you just now said consist
essentially in the imperfect.”
Messer Bernardo replied:
“Imperfect, yes; but not unpleasantly so. And you must know that this
imitation of which we are speaking, cannot be without cleverness; for
besides the way of governing words and gestures and setting before our
hearers’ eyes the face and manners of the man we are speaking of, we
must needs be discreet, and pay great heed to the place and time, and to
the persons with whom we are speaking, and not descend to buffoonery or
go beyond bounds;—which rules you observe admirably and therefore know
them all, I think. For in truth it would little befit a gentleman to
make faces, to weep and laugh, and mimic voices, to wrestle with himself
as Berto[65] does, or dress like a clown before everyone, like
Strascino,[199]—and things of that kind, which are very fitting in those
men because it is their profession.
“But for us it is needful to give only a fleeting and covert imitation,
always preserving the dignity of a gentleman, without uttering foul
words or performing acts that are less than seemly, without contorting
the face or person beyond measure; but to order our movements in such
fashion that whoever hears and sees us may from our words and gestures
imagine far more than what he sees and hears, and so be moved to
laughter.
“Moreover in our imitation we ought to avoid too stinging jibes,
especially at deformities of face or person; for while bodily defects
often furnish excellent material for laughter to a man who uses them
with discretion, yet to employ this method too bitterly is the act not
only of a buffoon but of an enemy. So, although it be difficult, in this
regard we must, as I have said, keep to the manner of our friend messer
Roberto, who mimics all men and not without marking their defects
sharply even to their face, and yet no one is annoyed or seems to take
it amiss. And I will give no instance of this, because in him we see
countless examples of it every day.
51.—“Another thing excites much laughter, although it is included under
the head of narration; and that is to describe gracefully certain
defects of others,—unimportant ones however and undeserving greater
punishment, such as follies, sometimes mere absurdities or sometimes
accompanied by a quick and pungent dash of liveliness; likewise certain
extreme affectations; sometimes a huge and well-constructed lie. As
when, a few days since, our friend Cesare told of a delightful
absurdity, which was that finding himself before the Podestà of this
place,[200] he saw a peasant come in to complain of being robbed of a
donkey. The fellow told of his poverty and of the trick played upon him
by the thief, and then, to make out his loss the heavier, he said:
‘Masters, if you had seen my donkey, you would have better understood
how much cause I have to grieve; for when he had his pack on, he looked
like a very Tullius.’[201]
[Illustration:
ERCOLE D’ESTE
DUKE OF FERRARA
1431-1505
]
Reduced from a photograph, specially made by Mansell, of an anonymous
bas-relief in the South Kensington Museum,—possibly the work of
Sperandio di Bartolommeo de’ Savelli (1425?-1500?).
“And one of our friends, meeting a flock of goats with a great he-goat
at their head, stopped and said with a look of admiration: ‘See what a
he-goat! He looks like a Saint Paul.’[202]
“My lord Gaspar tells of having known an old servant of Duke Ercole of
Ferrara,[203] who offered the duke his two sons as pages; but before
they could begin their service, both the boys died. When the duke heard
this, he condoled with the father kindly, saying that he was very sorry,
for the only time when he had seen them, they had seemed to him very
pretty and gentle boys. The father replied: ‘My Lord, you saw nothing;
for within the last few days they had grown far handsomer and more
virtuous than I could possibly have believed, and already they sang
together like two sparrow-hawks.’
“And not long since one of our doctors stood looking at a man who had
been condemned to be flogged about the piazza, and taking pity on him,
because (although his shoulders were bleeding freely) the poor wretch
walked as slowly as if he had been out for a stroll to pass the time,
the doctor said to him: ‘Step out, poor fellow, and make haste to be
done with your pain.’ Whereat the goodman turned, and gazing at the
doctor as if amazed, he stood awhile without speaking, and then said:
‘When you come to be flogged, you will go your own gait; so I choose to
go mine now.’
“You surely must still remember that absurd story which my lord Duke[2]
lately told of a certain abbot, who, being present one day when Duke
Federico[26] was discussing what to do with the great mass of earth that
had been excavated to lay the foundations of this palace, which was then
building, said: ‘My Lord, I have thought of an excellent place to put
it. Give orders to have an immense pit made, and it can be put in
without further difficulty.’ Duke Federico replied, not without
laughter: ‘And where shall we put the earth to be dug out of this pit of
yours?’ The abbot continued: ‘Have it made large enough to hold both.’
And so, for all the duke repeated several times that the larger the pit
was made, the more earth would be dug out of it, the man could never get
it into his brain that it could not be made large enough to hold both,
and kept replying: ‘Make it so much the larger.’ Now you see what good
judgment this abbot had.”
52.—Then messer Pietro Bembo said:
“And why do you not tell the story of your friend the Florentine
commander who was besieged in Castellina[204] by the Duke of Calabria?
Finding one day some poisoned crossbow missiles that had been shot in
from the camp, he wrote to the duke that if the warfare was to be
carried on so barbarously, he too would have medicine put on his cannon
shot, and then woe to the one who had the worst of it.”[205]
Messer Bernardo laughed, and said:
“Messer Pietro, if you do not hold your peace, I will tell all the
things I have seen and heard about your dear Venetians (which are not
few), and especially when they try to play the horseman.”
“Do not so, I beg of you,” replied messer Pietro, “and I will keep quiet
about two other delightful tales that I know of the Florentines.”[206]
Messer Bernardo said:
“They must have rather been Sienese, who often slip in this way; as was
recently the case with one, who, on hearing some letters read in council
wherein the phrase ‘the aforesaid’ was used (to avoid such frequent
repetition of the name of the man who was spoken of), said to the man
who was reading: ‘Stop there a moment and tell me, is this Aforesaid a
friend to our commune?’”
Messer Pietro laughed, then said:
“I am speaking of Florentines, not of Sienese.”
“Speak out freely then,” added my lady Emilia, “and do not stand so much
on ceremony.”
Messer Pietro continued:
“When the Florentine Signory was waging war against the Pisans,[207]
they sometimes found their money exhausted by their great expenses; and
the method of finding money for daily needs being discussed in council
one day, after many ways had been proposed, one of the oldest citizens
said: ‘I have thought of two methods whereby we could soon get a goodly
sum of money without much trouble. And one of these is, that since we
have no revenue greater than from the customs levied at the gates of
Florence, and since we have eleven gates, let us at once have eleven
more made, and thus we shall double our revenue. The other method is to
give orders that the mints be forthwith opened in Pistoia and
Prato,[208] just the same as in Florence, and that nothing be done there
day and night but mint money, and that all the money be ducats of gold;
and in my judgment this course is the quicker and the less costly.’”
53.—There was much laughter at this citizen’s keen sagacity: and the
laughter being quieted, my lady Emilia said:
“Messer Bernardo, will you allow messer Pietro to ridicule the
Florentines in this fashion, without returning blow for blow?”
“I forgive him this affront,” replied messer Bernardo, still laughing,
“for if he has displeased me by ridiculing the Florentines, he has
pleased me by obeying you, as I also would always do.”
Then messer Cesare said:
“I heard a delightful blunder made by a Brescian who had been at Venice
this year for the feast of the Ascension, and in my presence was
describing to some of his companions the fine things that he had seen
there; and how much merchandise there was, and how much silverware,
spices, cloth and stuffs; then the Signory went forth with great pomp to
wed the sea in the Bucentaur,[209] on board of which there were so many
finely dressed gentlemen, so much music and singing, that it seemed a
paradise. And on being asked by one of his companions which kind of
music he liked best among those that he had heard, he said: ‘They all
were good; but among the rest I saw a man playing on a certain strange
trumpet, which he thrust down his throat more than two palms at every
flourish, and then he straightway drew it out and thrust it down again;
so that you never saw a greater marvel.’”
Then everyone laughed, perceiving the silly mistake of the man, who had
imagined that the player thrust down his throat that part of the
trombone which disappears by sliding into itself.
54.—Messer Bernardo then continued:
“Moreover common affectations are tedious, but they excite much laughter
when they are beyond measure: like those we sometimes hear from certain
mouths regarding greatness or courage or nobility; or sometimes from
women, regarding beauty or fastidiousness. As was not long since the
case with a lady who remained sad and abstracted at some great festival;
and when asked what she was thinking about that should make her so
gloomy, she replied: ‘I was thinking of a matter that troubles me
greatly whenever it occurs to me, nor can I lift it from my heart; and
this is, that on the universal Judgment Day, when all men’s naked bodies
must rise and appear before the tribunal of Christ, I cannot endure the
distress I feel at the thought that my body will have to be seen
unclothed among the rest.’ Being extravagant, such affectations as these
cause laughter rather than tedium.
“You all are familiar with those splendid lies so well composed that
they move to laughter. A very excellent one was but lately told me by a
friend of ours who never suffers us to be without them.”
55.—Then the Magnifico Giuliano said:
“Be that as it may, it cannot be more excellent or more ingenious than
one which a fellow-Tuscan of ours, a merchant of Lucca, affirmed the
other day as a positive fact.”
“Tell it to us,” added my lady Duchess.
The Magnifico Giuliano replied, laughing:
“This merchant, so he tells the story, once finding himself in Poland,
decided to buy a quantity of sables with the intention of carrying them
into Italy and making great profit thereby. And after much effort, being
unable to enter Muscovy himself (by reason of the war that was then
waging between the King of Poland and the Duke of Muscovy), he arranged
with the help of some people of the country, that on an appointed day
certain Muscovite merchants should come with their sables to the
frontier of Poland, and he promised to be there in order to strike the
bargain. Accordingly, proceeding with his companions towards Muscovy,
the man of Lucca reached the Dnieper, which he found all frozen as hard
as marble, and saw that the Muscovites (who on account of the war were
themselves suspicious of the Poles) were already on the other bank, but
approached no nearer than the width of the river. So, having recognized
each other, the Muscovites after some signalling began to speak with a
loud voice, and to ask the price that they wished for their sables; but
such was the extreme cold that they were not heard, for before reaching
the other bank (where the man of Lucca and his interpreters were) the
words froze in the air, and remained there frozen and caught in such
manner that the Poles, who knew the custom, set about making a great
fire in the very middle of the river; because to their thinking that was
the limit reached by the warm voice before it was stopped by freezing,
and the river was quite solid enough to bear the fire easily. So, when
this was done, the words (which had remained frozen for the space of an
hour) in due course began to melt and to fall in a murmur, like snow
from the mountains in May; and thus they were at once heard very well,
although the men had already gone. But as the merchant thought that the
words asked too high a price for the sables, he would not accept the
offer and so returned without them.”[210]
56.—Thereupon everyone laughed, and messer Bernardo said:
“Of a truth the story I wish to tell you is not so ingenious; however it
is a fine one, and runs as follows:
“Speaking a few days since of the country or World recently discovered
by the Portuguese mariners,[211] and of the various animals and other
things which they bring back to Portugal, that friend of whom I told you
affirmed that he had seen a monkey of a form very different from those
we are accustomed to see, which played chess most admirably. And among
other occasions, the gentleman who had brought her, being one day before
the King of Portugal[212] and engaged in a game of chess with her, the
monkey made several moves so skilfully as to press him hard and at last
checkmated him. Being vexed, as all are wont to be who lose at that
game, the gentleman took up the king-piece (which was very large, such
as the Portuguese use) and gave the monkey a smart blow upon the head;
whereupon she leaped aside crying loudly, and seemed to ask justice of
the king for the wrong that had been done her. Then the gentleman
invited her to play again; and after refusing awhile by means of signs,
she finally began to play once more, and, as she had done the first
time, she again had the better of him. At last, seeing that she would be
able to checkmate the gentleman, the monkey tried a new trick to guard
against being struck again; and without showing what she was at, she
quietly put her right paw under the gentleman’s left elbow, which was
luxuriously resting on a taffety[213] cushion, and (quickly snatching
the cushion) with her left paw she at the same time checkmated him with
a pawn, while with her right she held the cushion over her head as a
shield against his blows; she then leaped joyfully to the king as if to
parade her victory. Now you see how wise, wary and discreet the monkey
was.”
Then messer Cesare Gonzaga said:
“It must be that this was a doctor among monkeys, and of great
authority; and I think that the Republic of Indian Monkeys sent her to
Portugal to make a name in a foreign land.”
Thereupon everyone laughed, both at the story and at the addition given
to it by messer Cesare.
57.—So, continuing the discussion, messer Bernardo said:
“You have now heard what occurs to me concerning those pleasantries that
render the effect of a thing by continuous talk; therefore it is now
well to speak of those that consist in a single saying and have a quick
keenness compressed into a phrase or word. And just as in the first
kind,—that of humourous talk,—we must in our narrative and mimicry avoid
resembling buffoons and parasites and those who make others laugh by
their sheer absurdities, so in these short sayings the Courtier must
take care not to appear malicious and spiteful, and not to utter
witticisms and _arguzie_ solely to annoy and cut to the quick; because
for the sin of their tongue such men often suffer in all their members.
58.—“Now of the ready pleasantries that are contained in a short saying,
those are keenest that arise from ambiguity. Yet they do not always move
to laughter, for they are oftener applauded as ingenious than as comic.
As was said a few days since by our friend messer Annibal Paleotto[214]
to someone who was recommending a tutor to teach his sons grammar, and
who, after praising the tutor as very learned, said that by way of
stipend the man desired not only money but a room furnished for living
and sleeping, because he had no _letto_ (bed): whereupon messer Annibal
at once replied: ‘And how can he be learned if he has not _letto_
(read)?’ You see how well he played upon the double meaning of the
phrase, _non aver letto_ [to have no bed, or, not to have read].
“But while this punning witticism has much sharpness, where a man takes
words in a sense different from that in which everyone else takes them,
it seems (as I have said) to excite wonderment rather than laughter,
except when it is combined with some other kind of saying.
“Now that kind of witticism which is most used to excite laughter, is
when we are prepared to hear one thing and the speaker says another, and
it is called ‘the unexpected.’ And if punning be combined with this, the
witticism becomes most spicy: as the other day, when there was a
discussion about making a fine brick floor (_un bel mattonato_) for my
lady Duchess’s closet, after much talk you, Giancristoforo, said: ‘If we
could fetch the Bishop of Potenza[215] and flatten him out well, it
would be the very thing, for he is the craziest creature born (_il più
bel matto nato_).’ Everyone laughed heartily, for by dividing the word
_matto-nato_ you made the pun. Moreover saying that it would be well to
flatten out a bishop and lay him in the floor of a room, was unexpected
to the listener; and so the sally was very keen and laughable.
59.—“But of punning witticisms there are many kinds; therefore we must
be careful and play very lightly with our words, and avoid those that
make the sally flat or that seem forced; and also those (as we have
said) that are too biting. As where several companions found themselves
at the house of one of their friends who was blind of one eye, and the
blind man bade the company stay to dinner, all took their leave save
one, who said: ‘I will stay with you because I see you have a vacant
place for one;’ and at the same time he pointed with his finger to the
empty socket. You see this is too bitter and rude, for it wounded
without cause, and the speaker had not first been stung himself.
Moreover he said that which might be said of all blind men; and such
universal things give no pleasure, because it seems possible that they
may have been thought out beforehand. And of this kind was that gibe at
a man without nose: ‘And where do you hang your spectacles?’[216] or
‘With what do you smell the roses in their season?’
60.—“But among other witticisms those have very good grace that are made
by taking the very words and sense from another man’s taunt and turning
them against him and striking him with his own weapons; as where a
litigant—whose adversary had said to him in the judge’s presence: ‘Why
do you bark so?’—at once replied: ‘Because I see a thief.’
“And another instance of this was when Galeotto da Narni,[217] on his
way through Siena, stopped in the street to ask for the inn; and a
Sienese, seeing how fat he was, said, laughing: ‘Other men carry their
wallets behind, but this one carries his in front.’ Galeotto at once
replied: ‘That is the way we do in a land of thieves.’
61.—“There is still another kind, which we call playing on words,[218]
and this consists in changing a word by either adding or omitting a
letter or a syllable; as when someone said: ‘You are better versed in
the Lat_r_in tongue than in the Greek.’ And you, my Lady, had a letter
addressed to you, ‘To my lady Emilia _Im_pia.’[219]
“Moreover it is a pleasant thing to quote a verse or two, applying it to
a purpose different from that which the author intends, or some other
familiar saw; sometimes to the same purpose, but changing some word. As
when a gentleman, who had an ugly and disagreeable wife, was asked how
he was, he replied: ‘Judge yourself of my state, when _Furiarum maxima
juxta me cubat_.’[220] And messer Geronimo Donato,[221] while going the
rounds of the _Stazioni_[222] at Rome in Lent with several other
gentlemen, met a bevy of beautiful Roman ladies; and one of the
gentlemen saying: ‘_Quot coelum stellas, tot habet tua Roma
puellas_,’[223] he at once replied: _Pascua quotque haedos, tot habet
tua Roma cinaedos_,[224] pointing to a company of young men who were
coming from the other direction.
[Illustration:
GALEOTTO MARZI DA NARNI
1427?-1490?
]
Enlarged from a cast, kindly furnished by M. Pierre Valton, of an
anonymous medal in his collection at Paris. See Armand’s _Les
Médailleurs Italiens_, ii, 35, no. 25.
“In like fashion messer Marcantonio della Torre[225] addressed the
Bishop of Padua. There being a nunnery at Padua in charge of a friar
reputed to be of very pure life and learned as well, it came to pass
that, as the friar frequented the convent familiarly and often confessed
the nuns, five of them (more than half of all there were) became
pregnant; and the affair being discovered, the friar wished to flee but
knew not how. The bishop had him taken into custody, and he soon
confessed that he had brought the five nuns to this pass, being tempted
of the devil; wherefore the bishop was firmly resolved to punish him
roundly. But as the man was learned, he had many friends who all tried
to help him, and along with the rest messer Marcantonio went to the
bishop to implore some measure of pardon for him. The bishop would in no
wise listen to them; and after they had pleaded hard, and recommended
the culprit, and urged in excuse the opportunities of his position, the
frailty of human nature, and many other things,—at last the bishop said:
‘I will do nothing for him, because I shall have to render God an
account of the matter.’ And when they repeated their arguments, the
bishop said: ‘What answer shall I make to God on the Day of Judgment,
when he says to me, _Give an account of thy stewardship_?’[226] Then
messer Marcantonio at once said: ‘My Lord, say that which the Evangelist
says: _Lord, thou deliveredst unto me five talents: behold I have gained
besides them five talents more_.’[227] Whereupon the bishop could not
keep from laughing, and greatly softened his anger and the punishment
intended for the offender.
62.—“It is also amusing to interpret names, and to pretend some reason
why the man who is spoken of bears such a name, or why something is
done. As a few days ago, when Proto da Lucca[228] (who is very amusing,
as you know) asked for the bishopric of Caglio, the Pope replied:
‘Knowest thou not that in the Spanish tongue _caglio_ means _I keep
silence_? And thou art a babbler; wherefore it would be unseemly for a
bishop never to be able to repeat his title without telling an untruth.
So be thou silent (_caglia_) now.’ Here Proto made a reply, which,
although it was not of this sort, yet was not less to the point; for
having several times repeated his request, and seeing that it was of no
avail, at last he said: ‘Holy Father, if your Holiness grant me this
bishopric, it will not be without advantage, for I shall leave your
Holiness two offices (_ufficii_).’ ‘And what offices have you to leave?’
said the Pope. Proto replied: ‘The full office (_ufficio grande_), and
the Madonna’s office (_ufficio della Madonna_).’[229] Then the Pope
could not keep from laughing, although he was a very grave man.
“Still another man at Padua said that Calfurnio[230] was so named
because he was accustomed to heat (_s_cal_dare_) ovens (_forni_). And
when I one day asked Fedra[231] why it was that on Good Friday, while
the Church offered prayer not only for Christians but even for pagans
and Jews, no mention is made of cardinals along with bishops and other
prelates,—he answered me that cardinals were included in that prayer
which says: ‘Let us pray for heretics and schismatics.’
“And our friend Count Ludovico said that the reason why I censured a
lady for using a certain cosmetic that gave a high polish, was because I
saw myself in her face, when it was painted, as in a mirrour; and being
ill favoured I could have no wish to see myself.
“Of this kind was that retort of messer Camillo Paleotto[232] to messer
Antonio Porcaro,[233] who, in speaking of a companion who told the
priest at confession that he fasted zealously, attended mass and the
sacred offices, and did all the good in the world, said: ‘The man
praises himself instead of owning his sins;’ to which messer Camillo
replied: ‘Nay, he confesses these things because he thinks it a great
sin to do them.’
“Do you not remember what a good thing my lord Prefect said the other
day? When Giantommaso Galeotto[234] was surprised at a man’s asking two
hundred ducats for a horse, because, as Giantommaso said, it was not
worth a farthing and among other defects was so afraid of weapons that
no one could make it come near them,—my lord Prefect (wishing to twit
the man with cowardice) said: ‘If the horse has this trick of running
away from weapons, I wonder that he does not ask a thousand ducats for
it.’
63.—“Moreover the very same word is sometimes employed, but in a sense
different from the usual one. As when my lord Duke,[2] being about to
cross a very rapid river, said to a trumpeter: ‘Cross over’ (_passa_);
and the trumpeter turned cap in hand, and said respectfully: ‘After your
Lordship’ (_passi la Signoria Vostra_).
[Illustration:
TOMMASO INGHIRAMI
“FEDRA”
1470?-1516
]
Reduced from Braun’s photograph (no. 42.171) of the portrait, in the
Pitti Gallery at Florence, long attributed to Raphael (1483-1520),
but pronounced by Morelli to be a copy, by a non-Italian painter, of
the original Raphael owned by the Inghirami family at Volterra and
now ruined by restoration.
“Another amusing kind of banter is where a man takes the speaker’s words
but not his sense. As was the case this year when a German at Rome,
meeting one evening with our friend messer Filippo Beroaldo,[235] whose
pupil he was, said: _Domine magister, Deus det vobis bonum sero_;[236]
and Beroaldo at once replied: _Tibi malum cito_.[237]
“Again, Diego de Chignones[238] being at the Great Captain’s[239] table,
another Spaniard, who was eating with them, said: ‘_Vino_,‘ meaning to
ask for drink; Diego replied: ’_Y no lo conocistes_,’[240] meaning to
taunt the man with being a heretic.[241]
“Another time messer Giacomo Sadoleto[242] asked Beroaldo,[235] who was
saying how much he wished to go to Bologna: ‘What is it that so presses
you at this time to leave Rome, where there are so many pleasures, to go
to Bologna, which is full of turmoil?’ Beroaldo replied: ‘On three
counts I am forced to go to Bologna,’ and lifted three fingers of his
left hand to enumerate three reasons for his going; when messer Giacomo
quickly interrupted him and said: ‘These three Counts that make you go
to Bologna are: first, Count Ludovico da San Bonifacio; second, Count
Ercole Rangone; third, the Count of Pepoli.’ Whereupon everyone laughed,
because these three Counts had been pupils of Beroaldo, and were fine
youths studying at Bologna.[243]
“Now we laugh heartily at this kind of witticism, because it carries
with it a response different from the one we are expecting to hear, and
in such matters we are naturally amused by our very mistake and laugh to
find ourselves cheated of what we expect.
64.—“But the modes of speech and the figures that are graceful in grave
and serious talk, are nearly always becoming in pleasantries and games
as well. You see that words set in opposition produce much grace, when
one contrasting clause is balanced by another. The same method is often
very witty. Thus a Genoese, who was very prodigal in spending, was
reproached by a very miserly usurer, who said to him: ‘When will you
ever cease throwing away your riches?’ And he replied: ‘When you cease
stealing other men’s.’
“And since, as we have said, the same situations that give opportunity
for biting pleasantries may also give opportunity for serious words of
praise,—it is a very graceful and becoming method in either case for a
man to admit or confirm what another speaker says, but to interpret it
in a manner different from what was intended. Thus a village priest was
saying mass to his flock not long since, and after he had announced the
festivals of the week, he began the general confession in the people’s
name, saying: ‘I have sinned by doing evil, by saying evil, by thinking
evil,’ and so forth, making mention of all the deadly sins. Whereupon a
friend and close familiar of the priest, in order to make sport of him,
said to the bystanders: ‘Bear witness all of you to what by his own
mouth he confesses he has done, for I mean to report him to the bishop.’
“This same method was used by Sallaza dalla Pedrada[244] in
complimenting a lady with whom he was speaking. First he praised her for
her virtuous qualities and then for still being beautiful; and she
replying that she did not deserve such praise because she was already
old, he said to her: ‘My Lady, your only sign of age is your resemblance
to the angels, who were the first and oldest creatures that God ever
made.’
65.—“Just as serious sayings are useful for praising, in like fashion we
find great utility also in jocose sayings for taunting, and in well
arranged metaphors, especially if they take the form of repartee, and if
he who replies preserves the same metaphor used by his interlocutor. And
of this kind was the answer made to messer Palla degli Strozzi,[245] who
being exiled from Florence, sent back a servant on a certain matter of
business and said to him rather threateningly: ‘Thou wilt tell Cosimo
de’ Medici from me that the hen is hatching.’[246] The messenger did the
errand commanded him, and Cosimo at once replied without hesitation:
‘And thou wilt tell messer Palla from me that hens cannot hatch well
away from their nests.’
[Illustration:
DJEM OTHMAN
1459-1495
]
Enlarged from Anderson’s photograph (no. 4268) of a part of the fresco,
“The Dispute of St. Catherine,” in the Borgian Apartments in the
Vatican, by Bernardino di Betto di Biagio, better known as
Pinturicchio, (1454-1513). For the iconographical identification of
this head, the translator is indebted to Professor Adolfo Venturi.
“Again, with a metaphor messer Camillo Porcaro[247] gracefully praised
my lord Marcantonio Colonna;[248] who, having heard that messer Camillo
had been extolling in an oration certain Italian gentlemen famous as
warriors, and had spoken very highly of him among the rest, he expressed
his thanks and said: ‘Messer Camillo, you have treated your friends as
some merchants treat their money when it is found to contain a false
ducat; for in order to be rid of it, they put the piece among many good
ones, and in this way pass it on. So you, to do me honour (although I am
of little worth), have put me in company with such worthy and excellent
cavaliers, that by virtue of their merit I shall perhaps pass as good.’
Then messer Camillo replied: ‘Those who forge ducats are wont to gild
them so well that they seem to the eye much finer than the good ones;
so, if there were forgers of men as there are of ducats, we should have
reason to suspect that you were false, being as you are of far finer and
brighter metal than any of the rest.’
“You see that this situation gave opportunity for both kinds of
witticism; and so do many others, of which countless instances could be
given and especially in serious sayings. Like the one uttered by the
Great Captain, who, being seated at table and all the places being
already taken, saw that there remained standing two Italian cavaliers
who had served very gallantly in the war; and he at once rose himself
and caused all the others to rise and make room for these two, saying:
‘Allow these cavaliers to sit at their meat, for had it not been for
them, the rest of us should now have no meat to eat.’ Another time he
said to Diego Garzia,[249] who was urging him to retire from a dangerous
position where the cannon shot were falling: ‘Since God hath put no fear
in your heart, do not try to put any in mine.’
“And King Louis,[250] who is to-day king of France, being told soon
after his accession that then was the time to punish his enemies who had
so grievously wronged him while he was Duke of Orleans, replied that it
was not seemly for the King of France to avenge the wrongs of the Duke
of Orleans.
66.—“Taunts are also often humourously uttered with a grave air and
without exciting laughter. As when Djem Othman,[251] brother to the
Grand Turk,[252] being a captive at Rome, said that jousting as we
practise it in Italy seemed to him too great a matter for play and too
paltry for earnest. And on being told how agile and active King
Ferdinand the Younger was in running, leaping, vaulting, and the
like,—he said that in his country slaves practised these exercises,
while gentlemen studied the liberal arts from boyhood, and prided
themselves thereon.
“Almost of the same kind, too, but somewhat more laughable, was what the
Archbishop of Florence said to the Alexandrian cardinal:[253] that men
have only their goods, their body, and their soul; their goods are put
in peril by the lawyers, their body by the physicians, and their soul by
the theologians.”
Then the Magnifico Giuliano replied:
“To this you might add what Nicoletto[254] said: that we seldom find a
lawyer who goes to law, a physician who takes physic, or a theologian
who is a good Christian.”
67.—Messer Bernardo laughed, then went on:
“Of these there are countless instances, uttered by great lords and very
weighty men. But we often laugh at similes also, such as the one that
our friend Pistoia[255] wrote to Serafino: ‘Send back the wallet that
looks like you;’ because, if you remember rightly, Serafino looked very
like a wallet.
“Moreover there are some who delight to liken men and women to horses,
dogs, birds, and often to chests, stools, carts, candle-sticks; which is
sometimes good and sometimes very flat. Therefore in this it is needful
to consider time, place, persons, and the other things that we have
mentioned so many times.”
Then my lord Gaspar Pallavicino said:
“An amusing comparison was the one that our friend my lord Giovanni
Gonzaga[256] made between Alexander the Great and his own son
Alessandro.”[257]
“I do not know it,” replied messer Bernardo.
My lord Gaspar said:
“My lord Giovanni was playing with three dice, and as was his wont had
lost many ducats and was still losing; and his son my lord Alessandro
(who, although only a lad, is as fond of play as the father is) stood
looking at him with great attention and seemed very sad. Count
Pianella,[258] who was present with many other gentlemen, said: ‘You
see, my Lord, that my lord Alessandro is little pleased at your losing,
and is waiting anxiously for you to win so that he may have some of your
winnings. Therefore put him out of his misery, and before you lose
everything give him at least a ducat, in order that he too may go and
play with his fellows.’ Then my lord Giovanni said: ‘You are wrong, for
Alessandro is not thinking of any such trifle. But as it is written that
when he was a boy, Alexander the Great began to weep on hearing that his
father Philip[259] had won a great battle and subdued some kingdom, and
when he was asked why he wept, he replied that it was because he feared
his father would subdue so many lands as to leave nothing for him to
subdue; in the same way my son Alessandro is now grieving and about to
weep, seeing that I his father am losing, because he fears I am losing
so much that I shall leave nothing for him to lose.’”
68.—After some laughter at this, messer Bernardo continued:
“Moreover we must avoid impiety in our witticism, (because from this it
is only a step to try to be jocular by blaspheming and to invent new
forms of blasphemy); otherwise we seem to seek applause by that for
which we deserve not only blame but heavy punishment, which is an
abominable thing. And therefore those of us who like to show their
pleasantry by little reverence to God, deserve to be chased from the
society of every gentleman.
“And they, no less, who are indecent and foul of speech, and show no
respect for ladies’ presence and seem to have no other pleasure than to
make them blush with shame, and who to that end are continually seeking
witticisms and _arguzie_. As in Ferrara this year at a banquet attended
by many ladies, there were a Florentine and a Sienese, who are usually
hostile, as you know. To taunt the Florentine, the Sienese said: ‘We
have married Siena to the Emperor and have given him Florence for
dowry.’ He said this because it was reported at the time that the
Sienese had given the Emperor a certain sum of money and that he had
taken their city under his protection. The Florentine quickly retorted:
‘Siena will first be possessed’ (he used the Italian word, but with the
French meaning); ‘then the dowry will be disputed at leisure.’[260] You
see that the retort was clever, but, being made in the presence of
ladies, it became indecent and unseemly.”
69.—Then my lord Gaspar Pallavicino said:
“Women delight to hear nothing else; and you would deprive them of it.
Moreover for my part I have found myself blushing with shame at words
uttered by women far oftener than by men.”
“Of such women I was not speaking,” said messer Bernardo; “but of
virtuous ladies, who deserve reverence and honour from every gentleman.”
My lord Gaspar said:
“We should have to invent a subtle rule by which to distinguish them,
for most often those who are seemingly the best, in fact are quite the
contrary.”
Then messer Bernardo said, laughing:
“If we had not present here my lord Magnifico, who is everywhere
accounted the champion of women, I should undertake to answer you; but I
am unwilling to do him wrong.”
Here my lady Emilia said, also laughing:
“Women have need of no champion against an accuser of so little weight.
So leave my lord Gaspar in his perverse opinion,—which arises from his
never having found a lady to look at him, rather than from any fault on
their part,—and go on with your talk about pleasantries.”
70.—Then messer Bernardo said:
“In truth, my Lady, methinks I have told of many situations from which
we can derive sharp witticisms, which then have the more grace the more
they are accompanied by fine narrative. Still many others might be
mentioned. As when, by overstatement or understatement, we say things
that outrageously exceed the probable; and of this sort was what Mario
da Volterra[261] said of a prelate, that he held himself so great a man
that when he entered St. Peter’s, he stooped in order not to strike his
head against the architrave of the portal. Again, our friend here the
Magnifico said that his servant Galpino was so lean and light that in
blowing the fire to kindle it one morning, the fellow had been carried
by the smoke all the way up the chimney to the very top; but happening
to be brought crosswise against one of the openings, he had the good
luck not to be blown away with the smoke.
“Another time messer Agostino Bevazzano[262] said that a miser, who had
been unwilling to sell his grain while it was dear, afterwards hanged
himself in despair from a rafter of his bedroom when he found that the
price had greatly fallen; and one of his servants ran in on hearing the
noise, saw the miser hanging, and quickly cut the rope and thus rescued
him from death. Then, having come to himself, the miser insisted that
his servant should pay him for the rope that had been cut.
[Illustration:
AGOSTINO BEVAZZANO
_Flor._ 1500
]
Reduced from Braun’s photograph (no. 43.161) of a part of the double
portrait once owned by Bembo and now in the Doria Gallery at Rome.
Although by some critics regarded as an old copy, the picture is
affirmed by both Morelli and Berenson to be the work of Raphael
(1483-1520), probably painted in April 1516.
“Of the same sort also seems to be what Lorenzo de’ Medici said to a
dull buffoon: ‘You would not make me laugh if you tickled me.’ And in
like fashion he answered another simpleton who had found him abed very
late one morning, and who had reproved him for sleeping so late, saying:
‘I have already been at the New Market and the Old, then outside the San
Gallo gate and around the walls for exercise, and have done a thousand
things besides; and you are still asleep?’ Then Lorenzo said: ‘What I
dreamed in one hour is worth more than what you accomplished in four.’
71.—“It is also fine when in a retort we censure something without
apparently meaning to censure it. For instance, the Marquess Federico of
Mantua,[263] father to our lady Duchess, being at table with many
gentlemen, one of them said after eating an entire bowl of stew: ‘Pardon
me, my lord Marquess;’ and so saying he began to gulp down the broth
that remained. Then the Marquess said quickly: ‘Ask pardon rather of the
swine, for you do me no wrong at all.’
“Again, to censure a tyrant who was falsely reputed to be generous,
messer Niccolò Leonico[264] said: ‘Think what generosity rules him, for
he gives away not his own things only, but other men’s as well!’
72.—“Another very pretty form of pleasantry is that which consists in a
kind of innuendo, when we say one thing and tacitly imply another. Of
course I do not mean another thing of a completely different kind, like
calling a dwarf gigantic and a negro white or a very ugly man handsome,
for the difference is too obvious,—although even these sometimes cause
laughter; but I mean when with stern and serious air we humourously say
something in jest which is not our real thought. For instance, when a
gentleman told a palpable lie to messer Agostino Foglietta[265] and
affirmed it stoutly on seeing that he had much difficulty in believing
it, messer Agostino said at last: ‘Fair sir, if I may ever hope to
receive kindness from you, do me the favour to be content even if I do
not believe anything you say.’ But as the other repeated, and under
oath, that it was the truth, he finally said: ‘Since you will have it
so, I will believe it for your sake, for indeed I would do even a
greater thing than this for you.’
“Don Giovanni di Cardona[266] said something nearly of this sort about a
man who wished to leave Rome: ‘To my thinking the fellow is ill advised,
for he is so great a rascal that by staying on at Rome he might in time
become a cardinal.’ Of this sort also is what was said by Alfonso
Santacroce,[267] who had shortly before suffered some outrage from the
Cardinal of Pavia.[268] While strolling with several gentlemen near the
place of public execution outside Bologna, he saw a man who had recently
been hanged, and turning towards the body with a thoughtful air, he said
loud enough for everyone to hear him: ‘Happy thou, who hast naught to do
with the Cardinal of Pavia.’
73.—“And this sort of pleasantry which is tinged with irony seems very
becoming to great men, because it is dignified and sharp, and can be
used in jocose as well as in serious matters. Hence many ancients (and
those among the most esteemed) have used it, like Cato and Scipio
Africanus the Younger; but above all men, the philosopher Socrates is
said to have excelled in it. And in our own times King Alfonso I of
Aragon,[269] who, being about to eat one morning, took off the many
precious rings that he had on his fingers, in order not to wet them in
washing his hands, and so gave them to the first person he happened on,
almost without looking to see who it was. This servant supposed that the
king had taken no notice who received them, and by reason of weightier
cares would easily forget them altogether; and in this he was the more
confirmed, seeing that the king did not ask for them again; and as he
saw days, weeks and months pass without hearing a word about them, he
thought he was surely safe. Accordingly, nearly a year after this had
happened, he presented himself again one morning as the king was about
to eat, and held out his hand to receive the rings; whereupon the king
bent close to his ear and said to him: ‘Let the first ones suffice thee,
because these will do for someone else.’ You see how biting, clever and
dignified the sally was, and how truly worthy the exalted spirit of an
Alexander.
[Illustration:
OTTAVIANO UBALDINI
Died 1498
]
Enlarged from Braun’s photograph (no. 19.553) of the painting,
“Astronomy,” by Melozzo degli Ambrosi da Forli (1438-1494). The
picture, of which this head is a detail, was one of a series of
panels painted to decorate Duke Federico di Montefeltro’s library in
the palace of Urbino, but is now in the Royal Museum at Berlin. For
iconographical identification, see Schmarzow’s _Melozzo da Forli,
ein Beitrag zur Kunst- und Kulturgeschichte Italiens im XV
Jahrhundert_ (Berlin: 1886), p. 84.
74.—“Similar to this manner (which savours of the ironical) is another
method, that of describing an evil thing in polite terms. As the Great
Captain said to one of his cavaliers, who, after the battle of
Cerignola,[270] when the danger was over, came forward in the richest
armour possible to describe, accoutered as if for battle. And then the
Great Captain turned to Don Ugo di Cardona[271] and said: ‘Have no more
fear of storm, for Saint Elmo has appeared;’ and with this polite speech
he stung the man to the quick, because you know that Saint Elmo[272]
always appears to mariners after the tempest and gives token of fair
weather; and thus the Great Captain meant that this cavalier’s
appearance was a token that the danger was quite passed.
“Another time my lord Ottaviano Ubaldini,[273] being at Florence in the
company of some citizens of great influence, and the talk being about
soldiers, one of them asked him if he knew Antonello da Forli,[274] who
had at that time fled from Florentine territory. My lord Ottaviano
replied: ‘I do not know him, but have always heard him spoken of as a
prompt soldier.’ Whereupon another Florentine said: ‘You see how prompt
he is, when he takes his departure without asking leave.’
75.—“Those witticisms also are very clever in which we take from our
interlocutor’s lips something that he does not mean. And of this kind,
methinks, was my lord Duke’s reply to the castellan who lost San
Leo[275] when this duchy was taken by Pope Alexander and given to Duke
Valentino;[276] and it was this: my lord Duke being in Venice at the
time I have mentioned, many of his subjects came continually to give him
secret news how things were faring in his state; and among the rest came
this castellan, who, after having excused himself as best he could,
ascribing the blame to mischance, said: ‘Have no anxiety, my Lord,
because I still have heart to take measures for the recovery of San
Leo.’ Then my lord Duke replied: ‘Trouble yourself no more about the
matter, for the mere loss of it was a measure that rendered its recovery
possible.’
“There are certain other sayings when a man known to be clever says
something that seems to proceed from foolishness. For instance, messer
Camillo Paleotto[232] said of someone the other day: ‘He was such a fool
that he died as soon as he began to grow rich.’
“Of like kind with this is a spicy and keen dissimulation, where a man
(discreet, as I have said) pretends not to understand something that he
does understand. Like what was said by the Marquess Federico of Mantua,
who,—being pestered by a tiresome fellow who complained that some of his
neighbours were snaring doves out of his dovecote, and all the while
held one of them in his hand, hanging dead just as he had found it with
its foot caught in the snare,—replied that the matter should be looked
to. The fellow repeated the story of his loss not once only but many
times, always displaying the dove that had been hanged, and saying: ‘And
what, my Lord, do you think ought to be done in this case?’ At last the
Marquess said: ‘I think the dove ought on no account to be buried in
church, for having hanged itself, it must be believed to have committed
suicide.’[277]
“Somewhat of the same fashion was the retort made by Scipio Nasica[278]
to Ennius. Once when Scipio went to Ennius’s house to speak with him and
called him down from the street, one of his maids replied that he was
not at home; and Scipio distinctly heard Ennius himself tell the maid to
say he was not at home, and so went away. Not long afterwards Ennius
came to Scipio’s house and likewise called to him from below; whereupon
Scipio himself replied in a loud voice that he was not at home. Then
Ennius replied: ‘How? Do I not know thy voice?’ Scipio said: ‘Thou art
too rude. The other day I believed thy maid when she said thou wert not
at home, and now thou wilt not believe the like from me in person.’
76.—“It is also a fine thing when a man is struck in the very same place
where he first struck his fellow. As in the case of messer Alonso
Carillo,[279] who, being at the Spanish court and having committed some
youthful peccadilloes of no great importance, was put in prison by the
king’s order and left there overnight. The next day he was taken out,
and so going to the palace in the morning, he reached the hall where
there were many cavaliers and ladies. And as they were laughing at his
imprisonment, my lady Boadilla[280] said: ‘Signor Alonso, your mishap
weighed on me heavily, for all your acquaintance thought the king would
have you hanged.’ Then Alonso said quickly: ‘My Lady, I was much afraid
of it myself; but then I had hope that you would ask me to be your
husband.’ You see how sharp and clever this was, because in Spain (as in
many other countries too) the custom is that when a man is led to the
gallows, his life is given him if a public courtesan begs him for her
husband.
[Illustration:
RAPHAEL
1483-1520
]
Enlarged from a part of Weinwurm’s photograph (no. 1384) of the
portrait, in the National Gallery at Buda-Pest, by Sebastiano
Luciani “del Piombo” (1485-1547). In the Scarpia collection at La
Motta di Livenza, this picture passed for years as a portrait by
Raphael of the Ferrarese courtier-poet Antonio Tebaldeo. On purely
intrinsic evidence, both Morelli and Berenson identify it as a
portrait of Raphael at the age of 26 or 27 years.
“In this manner also the painter Raphael replied to two cardinals with
whom he was on familiar terms, and who (to make him talk) were finding
fault in his presence with a picture that he had painted,—in which St.
Peter and St. Paul were represented,—saying that these two figures were
too red in the face. Then Raphael at once said: ‘My Lords, be not
concerned; because I painted them so with full intention, since we have
reason to believe that St. Peter and St. Paul are as red in Heaven as
you see them here, for shame that their Church should be governed by
such men as you.’[281]
77.—“Very keen also are those witticisms that have a certain latent
spice of fun in them. As where a husband was making great lament and
weeping for his wife, who had hanged herself on a fig-tree, another man
approached him and plucking him by the robe, said: ‘Brother, might I as
a great favour have a small branch of that fig-tree to graft upon some
tree in my garden?’
“Some other witticisms need an air of patience and are slowly uttered
with a certain gravity. As where a rustic, who was carrying a box on his
shoulders, jostled it against Cato, and then said: ‘Have a care.’ Cato
replied: ‘Hast thou aught else but that chest upon thy shoulders?’[282]
“Moreover we laugh when a man has made a blunder, and to mend it says
something of set purpose that seems silly and yet tends to the object he
has in view, and thus keeps himself in countenance. For instance, in the
Florentine Council not long ago there were (as often happens in these
republics) two enemies, and one of them, who was of the Altoviti family,
fell asleep. And although his adversary, who was of the Alamanni family,
was not speaking and had not spoken, yet to raise a laugh the man who
sat next Altoviti woke him with a touch of the elbow, and said: ‘Do you
not hear what So and So says? Make answer, as the Signors are asking for
your opinion.’ Thereupon Altoviti rose to his feet all drowsy as he was,
and said without stopping to think: ‘My Lords, I say just the opposite
of what Alamanni said.’ Alamanni replied: ‘But I said nothing.’ ‘Then,’
said Altoviti at once, ‘the opposite of whatever you may say.’
“Of this kind also was what your Urbino physician, master Serafino, said
to a rustic, who had received a hard blow in the eye so that it was
forced quite out, yet decided to seek aid from master Serafino. On
seeing him, although aware that it was impossible to cure him, still in
order to force money from his hands (just as the blow had forced the eye
from his head), the doctor readily promised to cure him, and accordingly
demanded money from him every day, affirming that he would begin to
recover his sight within five or six days. The poor rustic gave what
little he had; then, seeing that the affair was progressing slowly, he
began to complain of the physician, and to say that he felt no benefit
at all and saw no more with that eye than as if he had it not in his
head. At last master Serafino, seeing that he would be able to extort
little more from the man, said: ‘Brother, you must have patience. You
have lost your eye and there is no longer any help for it; and may God
grant that you do not lose your other eye as well.’ On hearing this, the
rustic began to weep and complain loudly, and said: ‘Master, you have
ruined me and stolen my money. I will complain to my lord Duke;’ and he
made the greatest outcry in the world. Then, to clear himself, master
Serafino said angrily: ‘Ah, wretched traitor! So you would have two
eyes, as city-folk and rich men have? To perdition with you!’ and
accompanied these words with such fury that the poor rustic was
frightened into silence and quietly went his way in peace, believing
himself to be in the wrong.
78.—“It is also fine to explain or interpret a thing jocosely. As when
at the court of Spain there appeared one morning in the palace a
cavalier who was very ugly, and his wife who was very beautiful, both
dressed in white damask (_damasco_),—the queen[283] said to Alonso
Carillo: ‘What think you of these two, Alonso?’ ‘My Lady,’ replied
Alonso, ‘I think she is the _dama_ (lady), and he is the _asco_,’ which
means monster.
[Illustration:
FRANCESCO ALIDOSI
CARDINAL OF PAVIA
Died 1511
]
Reduced from Giraudon’s photograph (no. 1528) of an anonymous bas-relief
in the Louvre. The features strikingly resemble those of Francesco
Francia’s medal of Alidosi, but are very unlike those shown in a
picture by Raphael (in the Prado Gallery at Madrid), which M. Müntz
regards as a portrait of the same personage. See _L’Archivio Storico
dell’Arte_ for 1891, pp. 328-32.
“Another time Rafaello de’ Pazzi[284] saw a letter which the Prior of
Messina[285] had written to a lady of his acquaintance, the
superscription of which read, ‘This missive is to be delivered to the
author of my woes.’ ‘Methinks,’ said Rafaello, ‘this letter is intended
for Paolo Tolosa.’[286] Imagine how the bystanders laughed, when
everyone knew that Paolo Tolosa had lent the Prior ten thousand ducats,
and that he, being a great spendthrift, found no means to repay them.
“Akin to this is the giving of friendly admonition in the form of
advice, yet covertly. As Cosimo de’ Medici did to one of his friends,
who was very rich but of moderate education and who had secured through
Cosimo a mission away from Florence. When on setting out the man asked
Cosimo what course he thought ought to be taken in order to do well in
the mission, Cosimo replied: ‘Wear rose-colour,[287] and say little.’ Of
the same kind was what Count Ludovico said to a man who wished to travel
incognito through a certain dangerous place and knew not how to disguise
himself; and being asked about it, the count replied: ‘Dress like a
doctor or some other man of sense.’ Again, Gianotto de’ Pazzi[288] said
to someone who wished to make a jerkin of as varied colours as he could
find: ‘Imitate the Cardinal of Pavia in word and deed.’
79.—“We laugh also at some things that have no connection. As when
someone said the other day to messer Antonio Rizzo[289] about a certain
man from Forli: ‘You may know he is a fool, for his name is
Bartolommeo.’ And another: ‘You are looking for a Master Stall, and have
no horses!’ And: ‘All the fellow lacks is money and brains.’
“And we laugh at certain other things that seem to have sequence. As
recently, when a friend of ours was suspected of having had the
renunciation[290] of a benefice forged, upon another priest’s falling
sick, Antonio Torello[291] said to our friend: ‘Why do you delay to send
for that notary of yours and see about filching this other benefice?’
Likewise at some things that have no sequence. As the other day, when
the pope sent for messer Gianluca da Pontremolo and messer Domenico
dalla Porta (who are both hunchbacks as you know),[292] and made them
auditors, saying that he wished to set the Wheel right,—messer Latino
Giovenale[293] said: ‘His Holiness is in errour if he thinks to make the
Wheel right with two wrongs (_due torti_).’
80.—“We often laugh also when a man admits everything that is said to
him and more too, but pretends to take it in a different sense. As when
Captain Peralta was brought out to fight a duel with Aldana, and Captain
Molart[294] (who was Aldana’s second) asked Peralta on his oath if he
wore any amulets or charms to keep him from being wounded; Peralta swore
that he wore no amulets or charms or relics or objects of devotion in
which he had faith. Whereupon, to taunt him with being a heretic, Molart
said: ‘Do not trouble yourself about it, for without your oath I believe
you have no faith in Christ himself.’[295]
“Moreover it is a fine thing to use metaphors seasonably in such cases.
As when our friend master Marcantonio said to Bottone da Cesena,[296]
who was goading him with words: ‘Bottone, Bottone, you will one day be
the button (_bottone_), and your button-hole will be the halter.’
Another time, master Marcantonio having composed a very long comedy in
several acts, this same Bottone said to master Marcantonio: ‘To play
your comedy, all the timber there is in Slavonia will be needed for the
setting.’ Master Marcantonio replied: ‘While for the setting of your
tragedy, three sticks will be quite enough.’[297]
81.—“We often use a word in which there is a hidden meaning remote from
the one we seem to intend. As was done by my lord Prefect here, on
hearing mention of a certain captain who in his time had for the most
part been defeated but just then had chanced to win. And the speaker
telling that when the captain made his entry into the place in question,
he had on a very beautiful crimson velvet doublet, which he always wore
after his victories, my lord Prefect said: ‘It must be new.’
“Nor is there less laughter when we reply to something that our
interlocutor has not said, or pretend to believe he has done something
that he has not but ought to have done. As when Andrea Coscia,[298]
having gone to visit a gentleman who rudely kept his seat and left his
guest to stand, said: ‘Since your Lordship commands me, I will sit down
to obey you;’ and so sat down.[299]
[Illustration:
POPE LEO X
GIOVANNI DE’ MEDICI
“MY LORD CARDINAL”
1475-1521
]
Reduced from the central part of Braun’s photograph (no. 42.040) of the
triple portrait, in the Pitti Gallery at Florence, painted between
1517 and 1519 by Raphael (1483-1520) with the assistance of his
pupil Giulio Pippi, better known as Giulio Romano, (1492-1546).
82.—“We laugh also when a man accuses himself of some fault humourously.
As when I told my lord Duke’s chaplain the other day that my lord
Cardinal[300] had a chaplain who said mass faster than he, he answered
me: ‘It is not possible;’ and coming close to my ear, he said: ‘You must
know, I do not recite a third of the silent prayers.’
“Again, a priest at Milan having died, Biagino Crivello[301] begged his
benefice of the Duke,[302] who however was minded to give it to someone
else. At last Biagino saw that further argument was of no avail, and
said: ‘What! After I have had the priest killed, why will you not give
me his benefice?’
“It is often amusing also to express desire for those things that cannot
be. As the other day, when one of our friends saw all these gentlemen
playing at fence while he was lying on his bed, and said: ‘Ah, how glad
I should be if this too were a fitting exercise for a strong man and a
good soldier!’
“Moreover it is an amusing and spicy style of talk, and especially for
grave and dignified persons, to reply the opposite of what the person
spoken to desires, but slowly and with a little air of doubtful and
hesitating deliberation. As was once the case with King Alfonso I of
Aragon,[269] who gave a servant weapons, horses and clothes, because the
fellow said he had the night before dreamed that his Highness had given
him all these things; and again not long afterwards the same servant
said he had that night dreamed that the king gave him a goodly sum of
gold florins, whereupon the king replied: ‘Put no trust in dreams
henceforth, because they are not true.’ Of like sort also was the pope’s
reply to the Bishop of Cervia,[303] who said to him in order to sound
his purpose: ‘Holy Father, it is said all over Rome, and the palace too,
that your Holiness is making me governor.’ Then the pope replied: ‘Let
them talk,—they are only knaves. Have no fear there is any truth in it.’
83.—“Perhaps, my Lords, I might collect still many other occasions that
give opportunity for humourous sallies: such as things said with
shyness, with admiration, with threats, out of season, with excessive
anger; besides these, certain other conditions that provoke laughter
when they occur: sometimes a kind of wondering taciturnity, sometimes
mere laughter itself when untimely. But methinks I have now said enough,
for I believe that pleasantry which takes the form of words does not
exceed the limits we have discussed.
“Then, as to that which is shown in action, although it has numberless
forms, it still is comprised under a few heads. But in both kinds the
main thing is to cheat expectation and reply otherwise than the hearer
looks for; and if the pleasantry is to find favour, it must needs be
seasoned with deceit or dissimulation or ridicule or censure or simile,
or whatever other style a man chooses to employ. And while pleasantries
provoke laughter, yet with this laughter they produce divers other
effects: for some contain a certain elegance and modest pleasantness,
others a hidden or an open sting, others have a taint of grossness,
others move to laughter as soon as they are heard, others the more they
are thought of, others make us blush as well as laugh, others rouse a
little anger. But in all methods we must consider our hearers’ state of
mind, for to the afflicted jocosity often brings greater affliction, and
there are certain maladies that are aggravated the more medicine is
employed.
“Hence if the Courtier pays heed to time, persons and his own rank, in
his banter and amusing talk, and uses them not too often (for in truth
it begets tedium to be harping on this all day, in all kinds of
converse, in season and out), he may be called a man of humour; taking
care also not to be so sharp and biting as to be thought spiteful,
assailing causelessly or with evident rancour: either those who are too
powerful, which is imprudent; or those who are too weak, which is cruel;
or those who are too wicked, which is useless; or saying things to
offend those he would not offend, which is ignorance. Yet there are some
who feel bound to speak and assail recklessly whenever they can, let the
consequence be what it may. And among these last, some there are who do
not scruple to tarnish the honour of a noble lady, for the sake of
saying something humourous; which is a very evil thing and worthy the
heaviest punishment, for in this regard ladies are to be numbered among
the weak, and so ought not to be assailed, since they have no weapons to
defend them.
“Besides these things, he who would be agreeable and amusing must have a
certain natural aptitude for all kinds of fun, and must adapt his
behaviour, gestures and face accordingly; and the graver and more
serious and impassive his face is, the more spicy and keen will he make
his sallies seem.
84.—“But you, messer Federico, who thought to take your ease under this
leafless tree and in my arid talk, I am sure you have repented of it and
think you have found your way to the Montefiore Inn.[304] Therefore it
will be well for you, like a practised postman, to rise somewhat earlier
than usual and take up your journey, in order to escape from a bad inn.”
“Nay,” replied messer Federico, “I have come to so good an inn that I
mean to tarry in it longer than I first intended. So I shall go on
taking my ease until you have finished the whole discourse appointed, of
which you have left out one part that you mentioned in the
beginning—that is, practical jokes; and it is not right for you to cheat
the company of this. But as you have taught us many fine things about
pleasantries, and have made us bold to use them by the example of so
many singular geniuses, great men, princes, kings, and popes,—so too in
practical jokes I think you will give us such daring that we shall
venture to try some even upon you.”
Then messer Bernardo said, laughing:
“You will not be the first; but perhaps you may not succeed, for I have
already endured so many of them that I am on my guard against
everything, like dogs who are afraid of cold water after once being
scalded with hot. However, since you will have me speak of this also, I
think I can despatch it in a few words.
85.—“It seems to me that practical joking is naught else but friendly
deceit in things that do not offend or that offend only a little. And
just as in pleasantry it arouses laughter to say something contrary to
expectation, so in practical joking it arouses laughter to do something
contrary to expectation. And the cleverer and more discreet these jokes
are, the more they please and are applauded; for he often gives offence
who tries to play a practical joke recklessly, and afterwards quarrels
and serious enmities arise in consequence.
“But the occasions that give opportunity for practical jokes are nearly
the same as in the case of pleasantries. So not to repeat them, I will
merely say that practical jokes are of two kinds, each of which kinds
might be further divided into classes. One kind is where anyone is
cleverly tricked in a fine and amusing manner; the other is where a net
is cast, as it were, and a little bait is offered, so that the victim
himself hastens to be tricked.
“Of the first kind was the joke that two great ladies, whom I do not
wish to name, lately had played upon them by means of a Spaniard called
Castillo.”[305]
Then my lady Duchess said:
“And why do you not wish to name them?”
Messer Bernardo replied:
“I would not have them take offence.”
My lady Duchess answered, laughing:
“It is not amiss to play jokes now and then even upon great lords.
Indeed I have heard of many being played upon Duke Federico, upon King
Alfonso of Aragon, upon Queen Isabella of Spain, and upon many other
great princes; and they not only did not take offence, but rewarded the
perpetrators liberally.”
Messer Bernardo replied:
“Not even for the hope of reward will I name those ladies.”
“As you please,” answered my lady Duchess.
Then messer Bernardo went on to say:
“It is not long since there arrived at the court (of I know whom) a
Bergamasque rustic on business for a courtier gentleman; and this rustic
was so well attired and elegantly appointed that, although he had been
only used to tend cattle and knew no other trade, anyone who did not
hear him speak would have taken him for a gallant cavalier. Now, being
told that a Spanish follower of Cardinal Borgia[306] had arrived, and
that he was called Castillo and was exceedingly clever, a musician, a
dancer, a _ballatore_,[307] and the most accomplished Courtier in all
Spain,—these two ladies were filled with extreme desire to speak with
him, and straightway sent for him. And after receiving him with
ceremony, they made him sit down and began to speak to him with the
greatest distinction before all the company; and there were few of those
present who did not know that the fellow was a Bergamasque cow-herd. So
when these ladies were seen entertaining him with so much respect and
honouring him so signally, the laughter was very hearty, the more so as
the good man spoke his native Bergamasque dialect all the while.[308]
But the gentlemen who played the trick had told these ladies in the
beginning that he was among other things a great joker, and spoke all
languages admirably and especially rustic Lombard. Thus they continually
imagined that he was pretending, and they often turned to each other
with an air of surprise, and said: ‘Listen to this prodigy, how well he
counterfeits the language!’ In short, the conversation lasted so long
that everyone’s sides ached from laughing; and he himself could not help
giving so many tokens of his gentility that even these ladies were at
last convinced, albeit with great difficulty, that he was what he was.
86.—“We meet practical jokes of this kind every day; but among the rest
those are amusing which at first excite alarm and turn out well in the
end; for even the victim laughs at himself when he sees that his fears
were groundless.
“For instance, I was staying at Paglia[309] one night, and in the same
inn where I was there happened to be three companions besides myself
(two from Pistoia and the other from Prato), who sat down to play after
supper, as men often do. They had not been playing long before one of
the two Pistoians lost all he had and was left without a farthing, so
that he began to lament and to curse and swear roundly; and he retired
to sleep blaspheming thus. After gaming awhile, the other two resolved
to play a trick upon the one who had gone to bed. So, making sure that
he was really asleep, they put out all the lights and covered the fire;
then they began to talk loud and to make as much noise as they could,
pretending to quarrel over their play, and one of them said: ‘You’ve
drawn the under card;’ and the other denied it, saying: ‘And you have
wagered on four of a suit; let us deal again;’[310] and the like, with
such an uproar that the sleeper awoke. And perceiving that his friends
were playing and talking as if they saw the cards, he rubbed his eyes a
little, and seeing no light in the room, he said: ‘What the devil do you
mean by shouting all night?’ Then he lay back again as if to go to
sleep.
“His two friends made no reply, but went on as before; whereat the man
began to wonder (now that he was more awake) and seeing that there was
really no fire or glimmer of any kind, and that still his friends were
playing and quarrelling, he said: ‘And how can you see the cards without
light?’ One of the two replied: ‘You must have lost your sight along
with your money; don’t you see with these two candles we have here?’ The
man who was abed lifted himself upon his arms, and said rather angrily:
‘Either I am drunk or blind, or you are lying.’ The two got up and
groped their way to the bed, laughing and pretending to think that he
was making sport of them; and still he answered: ‘I say I do not see
you.’ Finally the two began to feign great surprise, and one said to the
other: ‘Alas, methinks he speaks the truth. Hand me that candle, and let
us see if perchance there is something wrong with his sight.’ Then the
poor fellow took it for certain that he had become blind, and weeping
bitterly he said: ‘Oh my brothers, I am blind;’ and he at once began to
call on Our Lady of Loreto, and to implore her to pardon the blasphemies
and maledictions that he had heaped upon her for the loss of his money.
His two companions kept comforting him, and said: ‘It can’t be that you
do not see us; ’tis some fancy you’ve got into your head.’ ‘Alas,’
replied the other, ‘this is no fancy, for I see no more than as if I had
never had any eyes in my head.’ ‘Yet your sight is clear,’ replied the
two, and one said to the other: ‘See how well he opens his eyes! And how
bright they are! Who could believe that he doesn’t see?’ The unhappy man
wept more loudly all the while, and begged mercy of God.
“At last they said to him: ‘Make a vow to go in penance to Our Lady of
Loreto,[311] barefoot and naked, for this is the best remedy that can be
found; and meanwhile we will go to Acquapendente[312] and those other
places hard by to see some doctor, nor will we fail to do everything we
can for you.’ Then the poor fellow quickly knelt by his bed, and with
endless tears and bitter penitence for his blasphemy he made a solemn
vow to go naked to Our Lady of Loreto, and to offer her a pair of silver
eyes, and to eat no flesh on Wednesday or eggs on Friday, and to fast on
bread and water every Saturday in honour of Our Lady, if she would grant
him the mercy of restoring his sight. His two companions went into
another room, struck a light, and laughing their very loudest, came back
to the unhappy man, who was relieved of his great anguish, as you may
imagine, but was so stunned by the terror that he had passed through,
that he could neither laugh nor even speak; and his two companions did
nothing but tease him, saying that he must fulfil all his vows, because
he had obtained the mercy which he sought.
87.—“Of the other kind of practical joke, where a man deceives himself,
I shall give no other example than the one that was played on me not
very long ago.
“During the last carnival, my friend Monsignor of San Pietro ad
Vincula[313] (who knows how fond I am of playing tricks on the friars
when I am masked, and who had carefully arranged beforehand what he
meant to do) came one day with Monsignor of Aragon[314] and a few other
cardinals, to certain windows in the _Banchi_,[315] ostensibly for the
purpose of seeing the maskers pass, as the custom is at Rome. I came
along in my mask, and seeing a friar (somewhat apart) who had a little
air of hesitation, I thought I had found my chance and rushed upon him
like a hungry falcon on its prey. And first having asked him who he was
and received his answer, I pretended to know him, and with many words
began to make him think that the chief constable was out in search of
him (because of certain evil reports that had been received against
him), and to urge him to go with me to the Chancery,[316] where I would
put him in safety. Frightened and trembling from head to foot, the friar
seemed not to know what to do and said he feared being taken if he went
far from San Celso.[317] I said so much to encourage him, however, that
he mounted my crupper; and then I thought I had fully succeeded in my
scheme. So I at once began to make for the _Banchi_, my horse frisking
and kicking the while. Now imagine what a fine sight a friar made on a
masker’s crupper, with cloak flying and head tossed to and fro, and
looking all the time as if he were about to fall.
“At this fine spectacle those gentlemen began to throw eggs on us from
the windows, as did all the _Banchi_ people and everyone who was
there,—so that hail never fell from heaven with greater violence than
from those windows fell the eggs, most of which came on me. Being masked
as I was, I did not care and thought that all the laughter was for the
friar and not for me; and so I went up and down the _Banchi_ several
times with this fury always at my back, although the friar with tears in
his eyes begged me to let him dismount and not to shame his cloth in
this way. Then the knave had eggs given him on the sly by some lackeys
stationed there for the purpose, and pretending to hold me fast to keep
from falling, he broke them over my breast, often over my head, and
sometimes on my very brow, until I was completely bedaubed. Finally,
when everyone was weary both of laughing and of throwing eggs, he jumped
off my crupper, and pushing back his cowl showed me his long hair, and
said: ‘Messer Bernardo, I am one of the grooms at San Pietro ad Vincula,
and it is I who take care of your little mule.’
“I know not which was then greatest, my grief, my anger, or my shame.
However, as the least of evils, I set out fast for home, and dared not
make an appearance the next morning; but the laughter raised by this
trick lasted not only the next day, but nearly until now.”
88.—And so, after they had again laughed awhile at the story, messer
Bernardo continued:
“There is another very amusing kind of practical joke, which gives
opportunity for pleasantry as well, when we pretend to think that a man
wishes to do something which in fact he does not wish to do. For
instance, one evening after supper, when I was on the bridge at Lyons
and jesting with Cesare Beccadello[318] as we walked along, we began to
seize each other by the arm as if we were bent on wrestling, for by
chance no one else appeared on the bridge at the time. While we were
standing thus, two Frenchmen came up, and on seeing our dispute they
asked what the matter was, and stopped to try to separate us, thinking
that we were quarrelling in earnest. Then I said quickly: ‘Help me,
Sirs, for this poor gentleman loses his reason at certain changes of the
moon, and you see he is now trying to throw himself off the bridge into
the water.’ Thereupon these two men ran, and with my aid seized Cesare
and held him very tight; and he, telling me all the while that I was
mad, tried harder to free himself from their hands, and they held him
all the tighter. Thus the passers-by gathered to look at the
disturbance, and everyone ran up. And the more poor Cesare struck out
with his hands and feet (for he was now beginning to grow angry), the
more people arrived; and from the great effort that he made, they fully
believed he was trying to jump into the river, and on that account held
him the tighter. So that a great crowd of men carried him bodily to the
inn, all dishevelled, capless, pale with anger and shame; for nothing he
said availed him, partly because the Frenchmen did not understand him,
and also partly because, as I walked along leading them to the inn, I
kept lamenting the poor man’s misfortune in being thus stricken mad.
89.—“Now, as we have said, it would be possible to talk at length about
practical jokes; but suffice it to repeat that the occasions which give
opportunity for them are the same as in the case of pleasantries.
Moreover we have an infinity of examples because we see them every day.
Among others there are many amusing ones in the _Novelle_ of Boccaccio,
like those which Bruno and Buffalmacco played upon their friend
Calandrino and upon master Simone,[319] and many others played by women,
that are truly clever and fine.
“I remember having known in my time many other amusing men of this sort,
and among others a certain Sicilian student at Padua, called
Ponzio;[320] who once saw a peasant with a pair of fat capons. And
pretending that he wished to buy them, he struck a bargain, and told the
fellow to come home with him and get some breakfast besides the price
agreed on. So he led the peasant to a place where there was a bell-tower
standing apart from its church[321] so that one could walk around it;
and just opposite one of the four sides of the tower was the end of a
little lane. Here Ponzio, who had already settled what he meant to do,
said to the peasant: ‘I have wagered these capons with one of my
friends, who says that this tower measures quite forty feet around,
while I say it does not. And just before I found you, I had bought this
twine to measure it. Now, before we go home I wish to find out which of
the two has won.’ And so saying, he drew the twine from his sleeve, gave
one end of it to the peasant, and said: ‘Hand them here.’ Thereupon he
took the capons, and holding the other end of the twine as if he were
going to measure, he started to walk around the tower, first making the
peasant stay and hold the twine against that side of it which was
farthest from the one that looked up the little lane. When he reached
this other side, he stuck a nail into the wall, tied the twine to it,
and leaving the man there he quietly went off with the capons up the
little lane. The peasant stood still a long time waiting for Ponzio to
finish the measurement; at last,—after he had several times said: ‘What
are you doing there so long?’—he went to look, and found that it was not
Ponzio who was holding the twine, but a nail stuck in the wall, and that
this was all the pay left him for the capons. Ponzio played numberless
tricks of this sort.
“There have also been many other men who were amusing in like manner,
such as Gonnella, Meliolo in his day,[322] and at the present time our
friends Fra Mariano[60] and Fra Serafino[61] here, and many whom you all
know. And doubtless this method is well enough for men who have no other
business, but I think the Courtier’s practical jokes ought to be
somewhat farther removed from scurrility. Care must be taken also not to
let practical joking degenerate into knavery, as we see in the case of
many rogues, who go through the world with sundry wiles to get money,
now pretending one thing and now another. Moreover the Courtier’s tricks
must not be too rude; and above all let him pay respect and reverence to
women in this as in all other things, and especially where their honour
may be touched.”
90.—Then my lord Gaspar said:
“Indeed, messer Bernardo, you are too partial towards women. And why
would you have men pay more respect to women than women to men? Should
not our honour be as dear to us, forsooth, as theirs to them? Do you
think that women ought to taunt men with words and nonsense without the
least restraint in anything, and that men should quietly endure it and
thank them into the bargain?”
Then messer Bernardo replied:
“I do not say that in their pleasantries and practical jokes women ought
not to use towards men the same respect which we have before described;
but I do say they may taunt men with unchastity more freely than men may
taunt them. And this is because we have made unto ourselves a law,
whereby free living is in us neither vice nor fault nor disgrace, while
in women it is such utter infamy and shame that she of whom evil is once
spoken is disgraced forever, whether the imputation[323] cast upon her
be false or true. Wherefore, since speaking of women’s honour brings
such risk of doing them grievous harm, I say we ought to attack them in
some other way, and to abstain from this; because to strike too hard
with our pleasantries and practical jokes, is to exceed the bounds that
we have before said are befitting a gentleman.”
91.—As messer Bernardo paused a little here, my lord Ottaviano Fregoso
said, laughing:
“My lord Gaspar might answer you that this law you refer to, which we
have made unto ourselves, is perhaps not so unreasonable as it seems to
you. For since women were very imperfect creatures and of little or no
worth in comparison with men, and since of themselves they were not
capable of performing any worthy act,—it was necessary by fear of shame
and infamy to lay upon them a restraint that might impart some quality
of goodness to them almost against their will. And chastity seemed more
needful for them than any other quality, in order to have certainty as
to our offspring; hence it was necessary to use every possible skill,
art and way to make women chaste, and almost to permit them to be of
little worth in all things else and to do constantly the reverse of what
they ought. Therefore, since they are allowed to commit all other faults
without blame, if we taunt them with those defects which (as we have
said) are all permitted to them and therefore not incongruous in them,
and of which they take no heed,—we shall never arouse laughter; for you
said awhile ago that laughter is aroused by certain things that are
incongruous.”
92.—Then my lady Duchess said:
“You speak thus of women, my lord Ottaviano, and then you complain that
they love you not.”
“I do not complain of this,” replied my lord Ottaviano, “but rather
thank them in that they do not, by loving me, force me to love them. Nor
am I speaking my own mind, but saying that my lord Gaspar might use
these arguments.”
Messer Bernardo said:
“Verily it would be a great gain to women if they could conciliate two
such great enemies of theirs as you and my lord Gaspar are.”
“I am not their enemy,” replied my lord Gaspar, “but you are indeed an
enemy of men; for if you would not have women taunted as to their
honour, you ought also to impose on them a law that they shall not taunt
men for that which is as shameful to us as unchastity is to women. And
why was not Alonso Carillo’s retort to my lady Boadilla (about hoping to
escape with his life by being asked to become her husband) as seemly in
him, as it was for her to say that all who knew him thought the king was
about to have him hanged? And why was it not as allowable for Riciardo
Minutoli to deceive Filippello’s wife and get her to go to that resort,
as for Beatrice to make her husband Egano[324] get out of bed and be
cudgelled by Anichino, after she had long been with the latter? And for
that other woman to tie a string to her toe and make her husband believe
that she was someone else?—since you say that these women’s pranks in
Giovanni Boccaccio are so clever and fine.”
93.—Then messer Bernardo said, laughing:
“My Lords, as my task was simply to discuss pleasantries, I do not mean
to go outside my subject. And I think I have already told why it does
not seem to me befitting to attack women in their honour either by word
or deed, and have imposed on them as well a rule that they shall not
touch men in a tender spot.
“As for the pranks and sallies cited by you, my lord Gaspar, I grant
that although what Alonso said to my lady Boadilla may touch a little on
her chastity, it still does not displease me, because it is very remote,
and is so veiled that it may be taken innocently, and the speaker might
disguise his meaning and declare he had not meant it. He said another
that was to my thinking very unseemly. And it was this: as the
queen[325] was passing my lady Boadilla’s house,[280] Alonso saw the
door all blackened with pictures of those indecencies that are painted
about inns in such variety; and turning to the Countess of
Castagneta,[326] he said: ‘There, my Lady, are the heads of the game
that my lady Boadilla slays in hunting every day.’ You see that while
the metaphor is clever and aptly borrowed from hunters (who take pride
in having many heads of beasts fastened on their doors), yet it is
scurrilous and disgraceful. Besides which, it was not an answer to
anything; for it is far less rude to say a thing by way of retort,
because then it seems to have been provoked and needs must be impromptu.
“Returning, however, to the subject of tricks played by women, I do not
say they do well to deceive their husbands, but I say that some of those
deceptions (which Giovanni Boccaccio recounts of women) are fine and
very clever, and especially those which you yourself told. But in my
opinion the trick played by Riciardo Minutoli goes too far, and is much
more heartless than the one played by Beatrice; because Riciardo
Minutoli did much greater wrong to Filippello’s wife than Beatrice did
to her husband Egano, for by his deception Riciardo forced the woman’s
will and made her do with herself something that she did not wish to do,
while Beatrice deceived her husband in order that she might do with
herself something that pleased her.”
94.—Then my lord Gaspar said:
“Beatrice can be excused on no other plea than that of love, which ought
to be allowed in the case of men as well as in that of women.”
Then messer Bernardo replied:
“No doubt the passion of love affords great excuse for every fault. But
for my part I think that a gentleman of worth, who is in love, ought to
be sincere and truthful in this as in all things else; and if it be true
that to betray even an enemy is such a vile act and abominable crime,
consider how much more heinous the offence ought to be deemed when it is
committed against one whom we love.
“Moreover, I think that every gentle lover endures so many toils, so
many vigils, braves so many perils, sheds so many tears, employs so many
means and ways to please the lady of his love,—not chiefly in order to
possess her person, but to capture the fortress of her mind, and to
shatter those hardest diamonds, to melt that coldest ice, that often are
in the tender breast of woman. This, I think, is the true and sound
pleasure and the purposed goal of every noble heart. For myself, were I
in love, I certainly should prefer to be assured that she whom I served
returned my love from her heart and had given me her mind,—without ever
having any other satisfaction from her,—than to enjoy her to the full
against her will; for in such case I should deem myself the master of a
lifeless body. Hence they who pursue their desires by means of such
trickery, which might perhaps be called treachery rather than trickery,
do injury to others; nor have they yet that bliss which is to be desired
in love, if they possess the body without the will.
“The same I say of certain others who use enchantments in their love,
charms and sometimes force, sometimes sleeping potions and such like
things. Be assured, too, that gifts much lessen the pleasures of love;
for a man may suspect that he is not loved and that his lady makes a
show of loving him in order to profit by it. Hence you see that great
ladies’ love is prized because it could hardly spring from other source
than real and true affection, nor is it credible that a great lady
should ever pretend to love one of her inferiors unless she loves him
truly.”
95.—Then my lord Gaspar replied:
“I do not deny that the purpose, toils and dangers of lovers ought to
have their aim directed chiefly towards the conquest of the mind rather
than of the body of their beloved. But I say that these deceits, which
you call treachery in men and trickery in women, are excellent means of
attaining this aim, for whoever possesses a woman’s person is master of
her mind as well. And if you remember rightly, Filippello’s wife, after
much lament over the deceit practised on her by Riciardo, discovered how
much more delicious than her husband’s were the kisses of her lover, and
her coldness to Riciardo changed to sweet affection, so that from that
day forth she loved him most tenderly. Thus it came about that what his
frequent fond visits, his gifts and countless other tokens shown
unceasingly, could not affect, a taste of his embraces soon
accomplished. You now see that this same trickery, or treachery as you
would call it, was a good way to capture the fortress of her mind.”
Then messer Bernardo said:
“You advance a very false premise, for if women always surrendered their
mind to the man who possessed their person, no wife would be found who
did not love her husband more than every other person in the world; the
contrary of which we find to be the case. But Giovanni Boccaccio was
very unjustly hostile to women, as you are also.”[327]
96.—My lord Gaspar replied:
“I am not at all hostile to them; but there are very few men of worth
who as a rule make any account of women whatever, although for their own
purposes they sometimes pretend the contrary.”
Then messer Bernardo replied:
“You wrong not women only, but also all men who hold them in respect.
However, as I said, I do not wish for the present to go outside my
original subject of practical joking, and enter upon so difficult an
enterprise as would be the defence of women against you, who are a most
redoubtable warrior. So I will make an end of this talk of mine, which
has perhaps been far longer than was necessary, and certainly less
amusing than you expected. And since I see the ladies sit so quiet,
enduring your insults thus patiently as they do, I shall henceforth
regard a part of what my lord Ottaviano said as true, namely, that they
care not what other evil is said of them, provided they be not taunted
with lack of chastity.”
Then at a signal from my lady Duchess, many of the ladies rose to their
feet, and all ran laughing towards my lord Gaspar, as if to shower blows
upon him and treat him as the bacchants treated Orpheus,[328]—meanwhile
saying:
“You shall see now whether we care if evil be said of us.”
97.—Thus, partly because of the laughter and partly because everyone
rose to his feet, the drowsiness that had seized the eyes and mind of
some, seemed to flee away; but my lord Gaspar began to say:
“You see that being in the wrong, they would fain use force and thus end
the discussion by giving us a Braccesque leave, as the saying is.”[329]
Then my lady Emilia replied:
“Nay, that shall not help you; for when you saw messer Bernardo wearied
by his long talk, you began to say all manner of evil about women,
thinking to have no antagonist. But we shall put a fresh champion in the
field to fight you, to the end that your offence may not go long
unpunished.”
So, turning to the Magnifico Giuliano, who had thus far spoken little,
she said:
“You are accounted the defender of women’s honour; wherefore the time
has come for you to show that you have not acquired this title falsely.
And if hitherto you have ever found profit in your office, you ought now
to consider that by putting down so bitter an enemy of ours, you will
render all women still more beholden to you, so much so that although
nothing else be ever done but requite you, yet the obligation must
always stand and can never fully be requited.”
98.—Then the Magnifico Giuliano replied:
“My Lady, methinks you do your enemy much honour, and your defender very
little; for so far my lord Gaspar has certainly said nothing against
women that messer Bernardo has not most consummately answered. And I
believe we all know that it is fitting for the Courtier to show women
the greatest reverence, and that he who is discreet and courteous must
never taunt them with lack of chastity, either in jest or in earnest.
Therefore, to discuss such obvious truth as this, is almost to cast
doubt upon that which is undoubted. But indeed I think my lord Ottaviano
went rather too far when he said that women are very imperfect
creatures, incapable of any worthy action, and possessed of little or no
dignity in comparison with men. And as trust is often placed in those
who have great authority, even when they say what is not the exact truth
and also when they speak in jest,—my lord Gaspar suffered himself to be
led by my lord Ottaviano’s words to say that wise men make no account of
women whatever, which is most false. On the contrary, I have known very
few men of merit who did not love and honour women,—whose worth (and so
whose dignity) I regard as in no wise inferior to men’s.
[Illustration]
UNICUS ARETINUS
Bernardo Accolti
JO. CHRISTOFANO ROMANO
VINCENTIO CALMETA
NICOLO PHRYSIO
SERAPHINO
AUTOGRAPH SIGNATURES OF INTERLOCUTORS
From negatives, made by Signor Lanzoni, from originals preserved in the
Royal State Archives at Mantua and selected by the Director, Signor
Alessandro Luzio.
“Yet if this were to be the subject of dispute, women’s cause would be
at serious disadvantage; because these gentlemen have described a
Courtier so excellent and of such heavenly accomplishments, that whoso
undertook to consider him as they have pictured him, would imagine that
women’s merits could not attain that pitch. But if the contest were to
be fair, we should first need to have someone as clever and eloquent as
Count Ludovico and messer Federico are, to describe a Court Lady with
all the perfections proper to woman, just as they have described the
Courtier with the perfections proper to man. And then, if he who
defended their cause were of only moderate cleverness and eloquence, I
think that with truth for ally, he would clearly prove that women are as
full of virtue as men are.”
“Nay,” replied my lady Emilia, “far more so; and in proof of this, you
see that virtue (_la virtù_) is feminine, and vice (_il vizio_) is
masculine.”[330]
99.—Then my lord Gaspar laughed, and turning to messer Niccolò Frisio,
said:
“What think you of this, Frisio?”
Frisio replied:
“I am sorry for my lord Magnifico, who has been beguiled by my lady
Emilia’s promises and soft words into the errour of saying that which I
blush for on his behalf.”
My lady Emilia replied, still laughing:
“You will be ashamed rather of yourself, when you see my lord Gaspar
confuted, confessing his own and your errour, and imploring a pardon
that we shall refuse to grant him.”
Then my lady Duchess said:
“As the hour is very late, let the whole matter be postponed until
to-morrow; especially since it seems to me wise to follow my lord
Magnifico’s counsel, which is: that before we enter upon this
controversy, a Court Lady be described with all her perfections, just as
these gentlemen have described the perfect Courtier.”
Then my lady Emilia said:
“My Lady, God forbid that we chance to entrust this task to any
fellow-conspirator of my lord Gaspar, who will describe us a Court Lady
that can do naught but cook and spin.”
Frisio said:
“But this is her proper calling.”
Then my lady Emilia said:
“I am willing to trust my lord Magnifico, who will (with the cleverness
and good sense which I know are his) imagine the highest perfection that
can be desired in woman, and will set it forth in beautiful language
too; and then we shall have something to offer against my lord Gaspar’s
false aspersions.”
100.—“My Lady,” replied the Magnifico, “I am not sure how well advised
you are to impose on me an enterprise of such weight that I really do
not feel myself sufficient for it. Nor am I like the Count and messer
Federico, who have with their eloquence described a Courtier that never
was and perhaps never can be. Still, if it pleases you to have me bear
this burden, at least let it be upon the same conditions as in the case
of these other gentlemen, namely: that everyone may contradict me when
he pleases; for I shall take it, not as contradiction, but as aid; and
perhaps by the correction of my mistakes we shall discover that
perfection of the Court Lady which we seek.”
“I hope,” replied my lady Duchess, “that your talk will be of such sort
that little may be found in it to contradict. So give your whole mind to
it, and describe for us such a woman that these adversaries of ours
shall be ashamed to say she is not equal in worth to the Courtier; of
whom it will be well for messer Federico to say no more, since the
Courtier has been only too well adorned by him, especially as there is
now need to give him a paragon in woman.”
Then messer Federico said:
“My Lady, little or nothing is now left for me to tell about the
Courtier; and what I thought of saying has been driven from my mind by
messer Bernardo’s pleasantries.”
“If that be so,” said my lady Duchess, “let us come together again early
to-morrow, and we shall have time to attend to both matters.”
Thereupon all rose to their feet, and having reverently taken leave of
my lady Duchess, everyone went to his own room.
THE THIRD BOOK OF THE COURTIER
BY COUNT BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE
TO MESSER ALFONSO ARIOSTO
1.—We read that Pythagoras very ingeniously and cleverly discovered the
measure of Hercules’s body; and the way was this: it being known that
the space where the Olympic games were celebrated every five years,
before the temple of Olympian Jove near Elis, in Achaia,[331] had been
measured by Hercules, and a stadium made six hundred and twenty-five
times the length of his own foot; and that the other stadia which were
afterwards established throughout Greece by later generations, were
likewise of the length of six hundred and twenty-five feet, and yet were
somewhat shorter than the first one: by this proportion Pythagoras
easily reckoned how much larger Hercules’s foot was than other human
feet; and thus, knowing the measure of the foot, from this he argued
that the whole body of Hercules was larger than other men’s in the same
proportion that the first stadium bore to the other stadia.
So you, my dear messer Alfonso, by the same reasoning may clearly see,
from this small part of the whole body, how superior the court of Urbino
was to all others in Italy, considering how much the games that were
devised for the refreshment of minds wearied by the most arduous
labours, were superior to those that were practised in the other courts
of Italy. And if these were of such sort, think what were the other
worthy pursuits to which our minds were bent and wholly given; and of
this I confidently make bold to speak with hope of being believed; for I
am not praising things so ancient that I might be allowed to invent, but
can prove what I affirm by the testimony of many men worthy of faith,
who are still living and personally saw and knew the life and behaviour
that one time flourished in that court: and I hold myself bound, as far
as I can, to strive with every effort to rescue this bright memory from
mortal oblivion, and by my writing to make it live in the hearts of
posterity.
Wherefore perhaps in the future there will not be lacking some to envy
our century for this also; since no one reads the wonderful exploits of
the ancients, who in his mind does not conceive a somewhat higher
opinion of those that are written of than the books themselves seem able
to express, however divinely they be written. Even so we desire that all
to whose hands this work of ours shall come (if indeed it shall ever be
worthy of such favour as to deserve being seen by noble cavaliers and
virtuous ladies) may assume and take for certain that the court of
Urbino was far more excellent, and adorned by men of singular worth,
than we can express in writing; and if we had as great eloquence as they
had merit, we should have no need of other proof to make our words
believed by those who saw it not.
2.—Now the company being assembled the next day at the accustomed hour
and place, and seated in silence, everyone turned his eyes to messer
Federico and to the Magnifico Giuliano, waiting to see which of them
would begin the discussion. Wherefore my lady Duchess, having been
silent awhile, said:
“My lord Magnifico, everyone desires to see this lady of yours well
adorned; and if you do not display her to us in such fashion that all
her beauties may be seen, we shall think that you are jealous of her.”
The Magnifico replied:
“My Lady, if I deemed her beautiful, I should display her all unadorned
and in the same fashion wherein Paris chose to view the three
goddesses;[332] but if these ladies here, who well know how, do not aid
me to deck her forth, I fear that not only my lord Gaspar and Frisio,
but all these other gentlemen, will have just cause to say ill of her.
So, while still she stands in some repute for beauty, perhaps it will be
better to keep her hidden, and to see what messer Federico has left to
say about the Courtier, which without doubt is far more beautiful than
my Lady can be.”
“What I had in mind,” replied messer Federico, “is not so necessary to
the Courtier that it may not be omitted without any harm; nay, it is
rather different matter from that which has thus far been discussed.”
“And what is it, then?” said my lady Duchess.
Messer Federico replied:
“I had thought of explaining, as far as I could, the origin of these
companies and orders of knighthood established by great princes under
different ensigns: as that of Saint Michael in the House of France;[333]
that of the Garter, which bears the name of Saint George, in the House
of England;[334] the Golden Fleece in that of Burgundy:[335] and in what
manner these dignities are bestowed, and how they who deserve them are
deprived thereof; whence they arose, who were the founders of them, and
to what end they were established: for even in great courts these
knights are always honoured.
“I thought too, if I had time enough, to speak not only of the diversity
of customs that are in use at the courts of Christian princes in serving
them, in merry-making and in appearing at public shows, but also to say
something of the Grand Turk’s[252] court, and much more particularly of
the court of the Sophi king of Persia.[336] For having heard, from
merchants who have been long in that country, that the noblemen there
are of great worth and gentle behaviour, and that in their intercourse
with one another, in their service to ladies and in all their actions,
they practise much courtesy and much discretion, and on occasion much
magnificence, much liberality and elegance in their weapons, games and
festivals,—I was glad to learn what ways they most prize in these
things, and in what their pomp and finery of dress and arms consist; in
what they differ from us, and in what they resemble us; what manner of
amusements their ladies practise and with what modesty show favour to
lovers.
“But indeed it is not fitting to enter upon this discussion now,
especially as there is something else to say, and far more to our
purpose than this.”
3.—“Nay,” said my lord Gaspar, “both this and many other things are more
to the purpose than to describe this Court Lady; seeing that the same
rules that are set the Courtier, serve also for the Lady; for she, like
the Courtier, ought to have regard to time and place, and (as far as her
stupidity permits) to follow all those other ways that have been so much
discussed. And therefore, in place of this, perhaps it would not have
been amiss to teach some of the details that pertain to the service of
the Prince’s person, for it is well befitting the Courtier to know them
and to show grace in practising them; or indeed to tell of the method to
be pursued in bodily exercises, such as riding, handling weapons and
wrestling, and to tell wherein consists the difficulty of these
accomplishments.”
Then my lady Duchess said, laughing:
“Princes do not employ the personal service of so admirable a Courtier
as this: and as for bodily exercises and physical strength and agility,
we will leave to our friend messer Pietro Monte the duty of teaching
them, when he shall deem the season more convenient; for now the
Magnifico must speak of nothing but this Lady, of whom, methinks, you
are already beginning to be afraid, and so would make us wander from our
subject.”
Frisio replied:
“Surely it is irrelevant and little to the purpose to speak of women
now, especially when more remains to be said about the Courtier, for we
ought not to mix one thing with another.”
“You are much in errour,” replied messer Cesare Gonzaga; “for just as no
court, however great it be, can have in it adornment or splendour or
gaiety, without ladies, nor can any Courtier be graceful or pleasing or
brave, or perform any gallant feat of chivalry, unless moved by the
society and by the love and pleasure of ladies: so, too, discussion
about the Courtier is always very imperfect, unless by taking part
therein the ladies add their touch of that grace wherewith they perfect
Courtiership and adorn it.”
My lord Ottaviano laughed, and said:
“There you have a taste of that bait which makes men fools.”
[Illustration:
GIULIANO DE’ MEDICI
“MY LORD MAGNIFICO”
1479-1516
]
From Alinari’s photograph (no. 359) of the portrait, in the Uffizi
Gallery at Florence, painted by Alessandro Allori (1535-1607), and
believed to be a copy of an earlier portrait by Raphael.
4.—Then my lord Magnifico, turning to my lady Duchess, said:
“Since so it pleases you, my Lady, I will say what occurs to me, but
with very great fear of not satisfying. And in sooth it would be a far
lighter task to describe a lady worthy to be queen of the world, than a
perfect Court Lady: because of the latter I know not where to take my
model; while for the queen I should not need to go far, and it would be
enough for me to think of the divine accomplishments of a lady whom I
know,[337] and, lost in contemplation, to bend all my thoughts to
express clearly in words that which many see with their eyes; and if I
could do no more, by merely naming her I should have performed my task.”
Then my lady Duchess said:
“Do not wander from your subject, my lord Magnifico, but hold to the
order given you and describe the Court Lady, to the end that so noble a
Lady as this may have someone competent to serve her worthily.”
The Magnifico continued:
“Then, my Lady, to show that your commands have power to induce me to
essay even that which I know not how to do, I will speak of this
excellent Lady as I would have her; and when I have fashioned her to my
liking, not being able then to have another such, like Pygmalion I will
take her for my own.[338]
“And although my lord Gaspar has said that the same rules which are set
the Courtier, serve also for the Lady, I am of another mind; for while
some qualities are common to both and as necessary to man as to woman,
there are nevertheless some others that befit woman more than man, and
some are befitting man to which she ought to be wholly a stranger. The
same I say of bodily exercises; but above all, methinks that in her
ways, manners, words, gestures and bearing, a woman ought to be very
unlike a man; for just as it befits him to show a certain stout and
sturdy manliness, so it is becoming in a woman to have a soft and dainty
tenderness with an air of womanly sweetness in her every movement,
which, in her going or staying or saying what you will, shall always
make her seem the woman, without any likeness of a man.
“Now, if this precept be added to the rules that these gentlemen have
taught the Courtier, I certainly think she ought to be able to profit by
many of them, and to adorn herself with admirable accomplishments, as my
lord Gaspar says. For I believe that many faculties of the mind are as
necessary to woman as to man; likewise gentle birth, to avoid
affectation, to be naturally graceful in all her doings, to be mannerly,
clever, prudent, not arrogant, not envious, not slanderous, not vain,
not quarrelsome, not silly, to know how to win and keep the favour of
her mistress and of all others, to practise well and gracefully the
exercises that befit women. I am quite of the opinion, too, that beauty
is more necessary to her than to the Courtier, for in truth that woman
lacks much who lacks beauty. Then, too, she ought to be more circumspect
and take greater care not to give occasion for evil being said of her,
and so to act that she may not only escape a stain of guilt but even of
suspicion, for a woman has not so many ways of defending herself against
false imputations as has a man.
“But as Count Ludovico has explained very minutely the chief profession
of the Courtier, and has insisted it be that of arms, methinks it is
also fitting to tell what in my judgment is that of the Court Lady: and
when I have done this, I shall think myself quit of the greater part of
my duty.
5.—“Laying aside, then, those faculties of the mind that she ought to
have in common with the Courtier (such as prudence, magnanimity,
continence, and many others), and likewise those qualities that befit
all women (such as kindness, discretion, ability to manage her husband’s
property and her house and children if she be married, and all those
capacities that are requisite in a good housewife), I say that in a lady
who lives at court methinks above all else a certain pleasant affability
is befitting, whereby she may be able to entertain politely every sort
of man with agreeable and seemly converse, suited to the time and place,
and to the rank of the person with whom she may speak, uniting with calm
and modest manners, and with that seemliness which should ever dispose
all her actions, a quick vivacity of spirit whereby she may show herself
alien to all indelicacy; but with such a kindly manner as shall make us
think her no less chaste, prudent and benign, than agreeable, witty and
discreet: and so she must preserve a certain mean (difficult and
composed almost of contraries), and must barely touch certain limits but
not pass them.
“Thus, in her wish to be thought good and pure, the Lady ought not to be
so coy and seem so to abhor company and talk that are a little free, as
to take her leave as soon as she finds herself therein; for it might
easily be thought that she was pretending to be thus austere in order to
hide something about herself which she feared others might come to know;
and such prudish manners are always odious. Nor ought she, on the other
hand, for the sake of showing herself free and agreeable, to utter
unseemly words or practise a certain wild and unbridled familiarity and
ways likely to make that believed of her which perhaps is not true; but
when she is present at such talk, she ought to listen with a little
blush and shame.
“Likewise she ought to avoid an errour into which I have seen many women
fall, which is that of saying and of willingly listening to evil about
other women. For those women who, on hearing the unseemly ways of other
women described, grow angry thereat and seem to disbelieve it and to
regard it almost monstrous that a woman should be immodest,—they, by
accounting the offence so heinous, give reason to think that they do not
commit it. But those who go about continually prying into other women’s
intrigues, and narrate them so minutely and with such zest, seem to be
envious of them and to wish that everyone may know it, to the end that
like matters may not be reckoned as a fault in their own case; and thus
they fall into certain laughs and ways that show they then feel greatest
pleasure. And hence it comes that men, while seeming to listen gladly,
usually hold such women in small respect and have very little regard for
them, and think these ways of theirs are an invitation to advance
farther, and thus often go such lengths with them as bring them deserved
reproach, and finally esteem them so lightly as to despise their company
and even find them tedious.
“And on the other hand, there is no man so shameless and insolent as not
to have reverence for those women who are esteemed good and virtuous;
because this gravity (tempered with wisdom and goodness) is as it were a
shield against the insolence and coarseness of the presumptuous. Thus we
see that a word or laugh or act of kindness (however small it be) from a
virtuous woman is more prized by everyone, than all the endearments and
caresses of those who show their lack of shame so openly; and if they
are not immodest, by their unseemly laughter, their loquacity, insolence
and like scurrile manners, they give sign of being so.
6.—“And since words that carry no meaning of importance are vain and
puerile, the Court Lady must have not only the good sense to discern the
quality of him with whom she is speaking, but knowledge of many things,
in order to entertain him graciously; and in her talk she should know
how to choose those things that are adapted to the quality of him with
whom she is speaking, and should be cautious lest occasionally, without
intending it, she utter words that may offend him. Let her guard against
wearying him by praising herself indiscreetly or by being too prolix.
Let her not go about mingling serious matters with her playful or
humourous discourse, or jests and jokes with her serious discourse. Let
her not stupidly pretend to know that which she does not know, but
modestly seek to do herself credit in that which she does know,—in all
things avoiding affectation, as has been said. In this way she will be
adorned with good manners, and will perform with perfect grace the
bodily exercises proper to women; her discourse will be rich and full of
prudence, virtue and pleasantness; and thus she will be not only loved
but revered by everyone, and perhaps worthy to be placed side by side
with this great Courtier as well in qualities of the mind as in those of
the body.”
7.—Having so far spoken, the Magnifico was silent and sat quiet, as if
he had ended his discourse. Then my lord Gaspar said:
“Verily, my lord Magnifico, you have adorned this Lady well and given
her excellent qualities. Yet methinks you have kept much to
generalities, and mentioned some things in her so great that I think you
were ashamed to explain them, and have rather desired than taught them,
after the manner of those who sometimes wish for things impossible and
beyond nature. Therefore I would have you declare to us a little better
what are the bodily exercises proper to a Court Lady, and in what way
she ought to converse, and what those many things are whereof you say it
befits her to have knowledge; and whether you mean that she should use
the prudence, the magnanimity, the continence, and the many other
virtues you have named, merely to aid her in the government of her
house, children and family (which however you would not have her chief
profession), or indeed in her conversation and graceful practice of
those bodily exercises; and, by your faith, guard against setting these
poor virtues to such menial duty that they must needs be ashamed of it.”
The Magnifico laughed, and said:
“My lord Gaspar, you cannot help showing your ill will towards women.
But in truth I thought I had said enough, and especially before such
hearers; for I am quite sure there is no one here who does not perceive
that in the matter of bodily exercises it does not befit women to handle
weapons, to ride, to play tennis, to wrestle, and to do many other
things that befit men.”
Then the Unico Aretino said:
“Among the ancients it was the custom for women to wrestle unclothed
with men; but we have lost this good custom, along with many others.”
Messer Cesare Gonzaga added:
“And in my time I have seen women play tennis, handle weapons, ride, go
hunting, and perform nearly all the exercises that a cavalier can.”
8.—The Magnifico replied:
“Since I may fashion this Lady as I wish, not only am I unwilling to
have her practise such vigourous and rugged manly exercises, but I would
have her practise even those that are becoming to women, circumspectly
and with that gentle daintiness which we have said befits her; and thus
in dancing I would not see her use too active and violent movements, nor
in singing or playing those abrupt and oft-repeated diminutions which
show more skill than sweetness; likewise the musical instruments that
she uses ought, in my opinion, to be appropriate to this intent. Imagine
how unlovely it would be to see a woman play drums, fifes or trumpets,
or other like instruments; and this because their harshness hides and
destroys that mild gentleness which so much adorns every act a woman
does. Therefore when she starts to dance or make music of any kind, she
ought to bring herself to it by letting herself be urged a little, and
with a touch of shyness which shall show that noble shame which is the
opposite of effrontery.
“Moreover, she ought to adapt her dress to this intent, and so to clothe
herself that she may not seem vain or frivolous. But since women may and
ought to take more care for beauty than men,—and there are divers sorts
of beauty,—this Lady ought to have the good sense to discern what those
garments are that enhance her grace and are most appropriate to the
exercises wherein she purposes to engage at the time, and to wear them.
And if she is conscious of possessing a bright and cheerful beauty, she
ought to set it off with movements, words and dress all tending towards
the cheerful; so too, another, who feels that her style is gentle and
serious, ought to accompany it with fashions of that sort, in order to
enhance that which is the gift of nature. Thus, if she is a little more
stout or thin than the medium, or fair or dark, let her seek help from
dress, but as covertly as possible; and while keeping herself dainty and
neat, let her always seem to give no thought or heed to it.
9.—“And since my lord Gaspar further asks what these many things are
whereof she ought to have knowledge, and in what manner she ought to
converse, and whether her virtues ought to contribute to her
conversation,—I say I would have her acquainted with that which these
gentlemen wished the Courtier to know. And of the exercises that we have
said do not befit her, I would have her at least possess such
understanding as we may have of things that we do not practise; and this
in order that she may know how to praise and value cavaliers more or
less, according to their deserts.
“And to repeat in a few words part of what has been already said, I wish
this Lady to have knowledge of letters, music, painting, and to know how
to dance and make merry; accompanying the other precepts that have been
taught the Courtier with discreet modesty and with the giving of a good
impression of herself. And thus, in her talk, her laughter, her play,
her jesting, in short, in everything, she will be very graceful, and
will entertain appropriately, and with witticisms and pleasantries
befitting her, everyone who shall come before her. And although
continence, magnanimity, temperance, strength of mind, prudence, and the
other virtues, seem to have little to do with entertainment, I would
have her adorned with all of them, not so much for the sake of
entertainment (albeit even there they can be of service), as in order
that she may be full of virtue, and to the end that these virtues may
render her worthy of being honoured, and that her every act may be
governed by them.”
10.—My lord Gaspar then said, laughing:
“Since you have given women letters and continence and magnanimity and
temperance, I only marvel that you would not also have them govern
cities, make laws, and lead armies, and let the men stay at home to cook
or spin.”
The Magnifico replied, also laughing:
“Perhaps even this would not be amiss.” Then he added: “Do you not know
that Plato, who certainly was no great friend to women, gave them charge
over the city, and gave all other martial duties to the men?[339] Do you
not believe that there are many to be found who would know how to govern
cities and armies as well as men do? But I have not laid these duties on
them, because I am fashioning a Court Lady and not a Queen.
“I well know you would like to repeat tacitly that false imputation
which my lord Ottaviano cast on women yesterday: namely, that they are
very imperfect creatures, incapable of doing any good act, and of very
little worth and no dignity by comparison with men: but in truth both he
and you would be greatly in the wrong if you were to think this.”
11.—Then my lord Gaspar said:
“I do not wish to repeat things already said; but you would fain lead me
to say something to offend these ladies’ feelings in order to make them
my enemies, just as you wish to win their favour by flattering them
falsely. But they are so much above other women in discretion that they
love truth (even if it be little in their favour) more than false
praises; nor do they take it amiss if anyone says that men are of
greater dignity, and will admit that you have recounted great miracles
and ascribed to the Court Lady certain absurd impossibilities, and so
many virtues that Socrates and Cato and all the philosophers in the
world are as nothing by comparison. To tell the plain truth, I marvel
that you were not ashamed to go so far beyond bounds; for it ought to
have been quite enough for you to make this Court Lady beautiful,
discreet, chaste, gracious, and able (without incurring infamy) to
entertain with dancing, music, games, laughter, witticisms, and the
other things which we see used at court every day. But to insist on
giving her knowledge of all the things in the world, and to attribute to
her those virtues that are so rarely seen in men even in past centuries,
is something that cannot be endured or hardly listened to.
“Now, I am far from willing to affirm that women are imperfect
creatures, and consequently of less dignity than men, and not capable of
those virtues that men are,—because these ladies’ worth would suffice to
prove me wrong:[340] but I do say that very learned men have left it in
writing that since nature always aims and designs to make things most
perfect, she would continually bring forth men if she could; and when a
woman is born, it is a defect or mistake of nature, and contrary to that
which she would wish to do: as is seen also in the case of one who is
born blind or halt or with some other defect; and in trees, many fruits
that never ripen. Thus woman may be said to be a creature produced by
chance and accident; and that this is so, mark a man’s acts and a
woman’s, and judge therefrom the perfection of both. Yet, as these
imperfections of women are the fault of nature who has made them so, we
ought not on that account to hate them or fail to show them that respect
which is their due. But to esteem them above what they are, seems to me
plain errour.”
12.—The Magnifico Giuliano waited for my lord Gaspar to continue
further, but seeing that he kept silent, said:
“As to women’s imperfection, methinks you have adduced a very weak
argument; to which, although perhaps it be not timely to enter upon
these subtleties now, I reply (according to the opinion of one who knows
and according to truth) that the substance of anything you please cannot
receive into itself more or less. For just as no one stone can be more
perfectly stone than another as regards the essence of a stone, nor one
piece of wood more perfectly wood than another,—so one man cannot be
more perfectly man than another; and consequently the male will not be
more perfect than the female as regards its essential substance, because
both are included in the species man, and that wherein the one differs
from the other is an accidental matter and not essential. In case you
then tell me that man is more perfect than woman, if not in essence, at
least in non-essentials, I reply that these non-essentials must pertain
either to the body or to the mind; if to the body (as in that man is
more robust, more agile, lighter, or more capable of toil), I say that
this is proof of very slight perfection, because even among men, they
who have these qualities more than others have, are not more esteemed
therefor; and even in wars, where the greater part of the work is
laborious and a matter of strength, the strongest are yet not the most
prized; if to the mind, I say that all the things that men can
understand, the same can women understand too; and where the intellect
of the one penetrates, there also can that of the other penetrate.”
13.—Having here made a little pause, the Magnifico Giuliano added,
laughing:
“Do you not know that in philosophy this proposition is maintained, that
those who are tender in flesh are apt in mind? So there is no doubt that
women, being tenderer in flesh, are apter in mind, and of capacity
better fitted for speculation than men are.” Then he continued:
“But leaving this aside, since you have told me to argue concerning the
perfection of both from their acts, I say that if you will consider the
workings of nature, you will find that she makes women what they are,
not by chance, but adapted to the necessary end: for although she makes
them not strong in body and of placid spirit, with many other qualities
opposed to those of men, yet the characters of both tend to one single
end conducive to the same use. For just as by reason of that feebleness
of theirs women are less courageous, so for the same reason they are
also more cautious: thus the mother nourishes her children, the father
instructs them and with his strength earns abroad that which she with
anxious care preserves at home, which is not the lesser merit.
“Again, if you examine the ancient histories (albeit men have ever been
very chary of writing women’s praises) and the modern ones, you will
find that worth has continually existed among women as well as among
men; and that there have even been those who waged wars and won glorious
victories therein, governed kingdoms with the highest prudence and
justice, and did everything that men have done. As for the sciences, do
you not remember having read of many women who were learned in
philosophy? Others who were very excellent in poetry? Others who
conducted suits, and accused and defended most eloquently before judges?
Of handicrafts it would be too long to tell, nor is there need to bring
proof regarding that.
“Therefore, if in essential substance man is not more perfect than
woman, nor in non-essentials either (and of this, quite apart from
argument, the effects are seen), I do not know in what consists this
perfection of his.
14.—“And since you said that nature’s aim is always to bring forth the
most perfect things, and that she therefore would always bring forth man
if she could, and that the bringing forth of woman is rather an errour
or defect in nature than of purpose,—I reply that this is totally
denied; nor do I see how you can say that nature does not aim to bring
forth women, without whom the human species cannot be preserved, whereof
this same nature is more desirous than of everything else. For by means
of this union of male and female she brings forth children, who repay
the benefits received in childhood by maintaining their parents when
old; then in turn they beget other children of their own, from whom they
look to receive in old age that which they in their youth bestowed upon
their parents; thus nature, moving as it were in a circle, fills out
eternity and in this way grants immortality to mortals. Woman being
therefore as necessary in this as man, I do not see how the one was made
more by chance than the other.
“It is very true that nature aims always to bring forth the most perfect
things, and hence means to bring forth man after his kind, but not male
rather than female. Nay, if she were always to bring forth male, she
would be working imperfection; for just as from body and soul there
results a compound more noble than its parts, which is man,—so from the
union of male and female there results a compound which preserves the
human species, and without which its members would perish. And hence
male and female are by nature always together, nor can the one exist
without the other; thus that ought not to be called male which has no
female, according to the definition of each; nor female, that which has
no male. And as one sex alone shows imperfection, the theologians of old
attribute both the one and the other to God:[341] wherefore Orpheus said
that Jove was male and female; and we read in Holy Writ that God formed
men male and female in his own likeness; and often the poets, speaking
of the gods, confuse the sex.”
15.—Then my lord Gaspar said:
“I would not have us enter upon such subtleties, because these ladies
will not understand us, and although I answer you with excellent
arguments, they will believe (or at least pretend to believe) that I am
wrong, and straightway will pronounce judgment to their liking. Yet
since we are already begun, I will say merely this, that (as you know is
the opinion of very wise men) man resembles form, and woman matter; and
therefore, just as form is more perfect than matter,—nay, gives it its
being,—so man is far more perfect than woman. And I remember having once
heard that a great philosopher says in some of his problems:[342] ‘Why
is it that a woman always naturally loves the man who first tasted the
sweets of love with her? and on the contrary a man holds that woman in
hatred who was the first to give herself to him?’ And adding the reason,
he affirms it to be this: because in this matter the woman receives
perfection from the man, and the man imperfection from the woman; and
therefore everyone naturally loves that thing which makes him perfect,
and hates that which makes him imperfect. And besides this, a great
argument for the perfection of man and for the imperfection of woman is
that every woman universally desires to be a man, by a certain natural
instinct that teaches her to desire her perfection.”
16.—The Magnifico Giuliano at once replied:
“The poor creatures do not desire to be men in order to be perfect, but
in order to have liberty and to escape that dominion over them which man
has arrogated to himself by his own authority. And the analogy that you
cite of matter and form does not apply in everything; for woman is not
made perfect by man, as matter by form: because matter receives its
being from form and cannot exist without it; nay, the more matter forms
have, the more they have of imperfection, and are most perfect when
separated from it. But woman does not receive her being from man; nay,
just as she is made perfect by him, she also makes him perfect. Hence
both join in procreation, which neither of them can effect without the
other.
“Therefore I will assign the cause of woman’s lasting love for the first
man to whom she has given herself, and of man’s hatred for the first
woman, not at all to that which your Philosopher alleges in his
problems, but to woman’s firmness and constancy, and to man’s
inconstancy; nor without natural reason: for being warm, the male
naturally derives from that quality lightness, movement and inconstancy,
while from her frigidity woman on the other hand derives quietness, firm
gravity, and more fixed impressions.”
17.—Then my lady Emilia turned to my lord Magnifico and said:
“For the love of Heaven, leave these matters and forms of yours awhile,
and male and female, and speak in such fashion that you may be
understood; for we heard and understood very well the evil that my lord
Ottaviano and my lord Gaspar said of us, but now we do not at all
understand in what manner you are defending us: so it seems to me that
you are straying from the subject and leaving in everyone’s mind that
bad impression which these enemies of ours have given of us.”
“Do not give us that name, my Lady,” replied my lord Gaspar, “for it
better befits my lord Magnifico, who by bestowing false praises upon
women shows that there are none true of them.”
The Magnifico Giuliano continued:
“Do not doubt, my Lady, that answer will be made to everything. But I do
not wish to utter such inordinate abuse of men as they have uttered of
women; and if by chance there were anyone to write down our discussions,
I should not like, in a place where these matters and forms are
understood, to have the arguments and reasons that my lord Gaspar
adduces against you, appear to have been without reply.”
“I do not see, my lord Magnifico,” my lord Gaspar then said, “how in
this matter you will be able to deny that man is by his natural
qualities more perfect than woman, who is frigid by temperament, and man
warm. And warmth is far nobler and more perfect than cold, because it is
active and productive; and, as you know, the heavens send down only
warmth upon us here, and not cold, which does not enter into the works
of nature. And hence I believe that the frigidity of women’s temperament
is the cause of their abasement and timidity.”
18.—“So you too,” replied the Magnifico Giuliano, “wish to enter into
subtleties; but you shall see that you will always have the worst of it:
and that this is true, listen.
“I grant you that warmth is in itself more perfect than cold; but this
is not the case with things mixed and composite; for if it were so, that
body which is warmer would be more perfect, which is false, because
temperate bodies are most perfect. Moreover, I tell you that woman is of
frigid temperament by comparison with man, who by excess of warmth is
far from temperate; but as for her, she is temperate (or at least more
nearly temperate than man is) because she has in her a moisture
proportioned to her natural warmth, which in man usually evaporates by
reason of excessive dryness and is consumed. Furthermore, her coldness
is of the kind that resists and moderates her natural warmth and makes
it more nearly temperate; while in man the surplus warmth soon raises
his natural heat to the highest pitch, which wastes away for lack of
sustenance. And thus, as men lose more in procreation than women do, it
often happens that they are less long lived than women; wherefore this
perfection also may be ascribed to women, that, living longer than men,
they perform better than men that which is the intent of nature.
“Of the warmth that the heavens shed upon us I do not speak now, because
it is of a different sort from that which we are discussing; for being
preservative of all things under the moon’s orb, warm as well as cold,
it cannot be hostile to cold. But timidity in women, although it shows
some imperfection, yet springs from a praiseworthy source, that is, from
the subtlety and readiness of their wits, which picture images to their
minds quickly and thus are easily disturbed by things external. You will
very often see men who fear neither death nor anything else, and yet
cannot be called courageous, because they do not know the danger and go
like fools where they see the road open, and think no further; and this
proceeds from a certain grossness of dull wits: wherefore we cannot say
that a fool is brave. But true loftiness of mind comes from a due
deliberation and determined resolve to act thus and so, and from
esteeming honour and duty above all the dangers in the world; and from
being of such stout heart and courage (although death be manifest), that
the senses are not clogged or frightened, but perform their office in
speech and thought as if they were most quiet. We have seen and heard
that great men are of this sort; likewise many women, who both in
ancient and in modern times have displayed greatness of spirit and have
wrought upon the world effects worthy of infinite praise, not less than
men have done.”
19.—Then Frisio said:
“These effects began when the first woman by her transgression led
others to transgress against God, and left the human race an heritage of
death, sufferings, sorrows, and all the miseries and calamities that are
felt in the world to-day.”
The Magnifico Giuliano replied:
“Since you too are pleased to enter upon sacred things, do you not know
that this transgression was repaired by a Woman, who brought us much
greater gain than the other had done us injury, so that the guilt is
called most fortunate which was atoned by such merits? But I do not now
mean to tell you how inferior in dignity all human creatures are to our
Lady the Virgin (in order not to mingle things divine with these light
discussions of ours); nor to recount how many women have, with infinite
constancy, suffered themselves to be cruelly slain by tyrants for
Christ’s name, nor those who by learned disputation have confuted so
many idolaters. And if you told me that this was a miracle and grace of
the Holy Spirit, I say that no virtue merits more praise than that which
is approved by the testimony of God. Many other women also, of whom
there is less talk, you yourself can see,—especially by reading Saint
Jerome, who celebrates certain ones of his time with such admiring
praises as might well suffice for the saintliest man on earth.[343]
20.—“Then consider how many others there have been, of whom no mention
is made at all, because the poor creatures are kept shut up, without the
lofty pride to seek the name of saint from the rabble, as many accursed
hypocrites do to-day, who,—forgetful or rather regardless of Christ’s
teaching, which requires that when a man fasts he shall anoint his face
in order that he may not seem to fast, and commands that prayers, alms,
and other good works shall be done, not in the market-place nor in
synagogues, but in secret, so that the left hand shall not know of the
right,—affirm that there is no greater good thing in the world than to
give a good example: and so, with averted head and downcast eyes,
noising it abroad that they will not speak to women or eat anything but
raw herbs,—dirty, with cassocks torn, they beguile the simple. Yet they
abstain not from forging wills, setting mortal enmities between man and
wife, and sometimes poison, using sorceries, incantations and every sort
of villainy. And then they cite a certain authority out of their own
head, which says, _si non caste, tamen caute_;[344] and with this they
think to cure every great evil, and with good arguments to persuade
anyone who is not right wary that all sin, however grave it be, is
easily pardoned of God, provided it remain secret and do not give rise
to bad example. Thus, under a veil of sanctity and in secret they often
turn all their thoughts to corrupt the pure mind of some woman; often to
sow hatred between brothers; to govern states; to raise up one and cast
another down; to get men beheaded, imprisoned and proscribed; to be
ministers of the villainies and as it were receivers of the thefts that
many princes commit.
“Others shamelessly delight to appear dainty and fresh, with well-shaven
crown and garments fine, and in walking lift the cassock to display
their neat hose and their comeliness of person in making salutations.
Others use certain glances and gestures even in saying mass, whereby
they imagine they are graceful and attract attention. Villainous and
wicked men, utter strangers not only to religion but to all good
behaviour; and when they are reproved for their loose living, they make
a jest of it and laugh at him who speaks to them of it, and almost make
a merit of their vices.”
Then my lady Emilia said:
“You take such pleasure in speaking ill of friars, that you have entered
upon this subject without rhyme or reason. But you are very wrong to
murmur against ecclesiastics, and you burden your conscience quite
needlessly; since, but for those who pray to God for us, we should have
much greater scourges than we have.”
Then the Magnifico Giuliano laughed, and said:
“How did you guess so well, my Lady, that I was speaking of friars, when
I did not name them? But in truth what I do is not called murmuring, for
I speak very openly and plainly; nor am I speaking of the good, but of
the bad and guilty, of whom moreover I do not tell the thousandth part
of what I know.”
“Do not speak of friars now,” replied my lady Emilia; “because for my
part I esteem it grievous sin to listen to you, and so I shall go away
in order not to listen to you.”
21.—“I am content,” said the Magnifico Giuliano, “to speak no more of
this; but returning to the praises of women, I say that my lord Gaspar
shall not find me an admirable man, but I will find you a wife or
daughter or sister of equal and sometimes greater merit. Moreover, many
women have been the cause of countless benefits to their men-folk, and
sometimes have corrected many a one of his errours. Wherefore, women
being (as we have shown) naturally capable of the same virtues as men,
and the effects thereof being often seen, I do not perceive why,—in
giving them what it is possible for them to have, what they more than
once have had and still have,—I should be regarded as relating miracles,
whereof my lord Gaspar has accused me; seeing that there have always
been on earth, and now still are, women as like the Court Lady I have
fashioned, as men like the man these gentlemen have fashioned.”
Then my lord Gaspar said:
“Those arguments that have experience against them do not seem to me
good; and certainly if I were to ask you who these great women were that
have been as worthy of praise as the great men whose wives or sisters or
daughters they were, or that have been the cause of any benefit, and who
those were that have corrected the errours of their men-folk,—I think
you would be embarrassed.”
22.—“Verily,” replied the Magnifico Giuliano, “no other thing could make
me embarrassed save their multitude; and had I time enough, I should
tell you here the story of Octavia,[345] wife of Mark Antony and sister
of Augustus; that of Porcia,[346] Cato’s daughter and wife of Brutus;
that of Caia Cæcilia,[347] wife of Tarquinius Priscus; that of
Cornelia,[348] Scipio’s daughter; and of countless others who are very
celebrated: and not only of our own, but of barbarian nations; as that
of Alexandra,[349] wife of Alexander king of the Jews, who,—after her
husband’s death, when she saw the people kindled with fury and already
up in arms to slay the two children that he had left her, in revenge for
the cruel and grievous bondage in which the father had always kept
them,—so acted that she soon appeased their just wrath, and by her
prudence straightway won over for her children those minds which the
father, by countless injuries during many years, had made very hostile
to his offspring.”
“At least tell us,” replied my lady Emilia, “how she did it.”
“Seeing her children in such peril,” said the Magnifico, “she at once
caused Alexander’s body to be cast into the middle of the market-place.
Then, having called the citizens to her, she said that she knew their
minds to be kindled with very just wrath against her husband, because
the cruel injuries that he had iniquitously done them deserved it; and
that, as she had always wished, while he was alive, that she could make
him abstain from such a wicked life, so now she was ready to give proof
of it, and as far as possible to help them punish him after death; and
therefore let them take his body, and give it as food for dogs, and
outrage it in the most cruel ways they could devise: but she prayed them
to have mercy upon her innocent children, who could not have either
guilt or even knowledge of the father’s evil deeds. Of such efficacy
were these words, that the fierce wrath before conceived in the minds of
all that people was quickly softened and turned to a feeling of such
pity, that they not only with one accord chose the children for their
rulers, but also gave most honourable burial to the body of the dead.”
Here the Magnifico made a little pause; then he added:
“Do you not know that the wife and daughters of Mithridates showed much
less fear of death than Mithridates?[350] And Hasdrubal’s wife than
Hasdrubal?[351] Do you not know that Harmonia, daughter of Hiero the
Syracusan, chose to perish in the burning of her native city?”[352]
Then Frisio said:
“Where obstinacy is concerned, it is certain that some women are
occasionally to be found who never change their purpose; like the one
who being no longer able to say ‘Scissors’ to her husband, made the sign
of them to him with her hands.”[353]
23.—The Magnifico Giuliano laughed, and said:
“Obstinacy that tends to a worthy end ought to be called steadfastness;
as was the case of the famous Epicharis, a Roman freedwoman, who, being
privy to a great conspiracy against Nero, was of such steadfastness
that, although racked by all the direst tortures that can be imagined,
she never betrayed one of her accomplices; while in the same peril many
noble knights and senators basely accused brothers, friends and the
dearest and nearest they had in the world.[354]
“What will you say of that other woman who was called Leæna? In whose
honour the Athenians dedicated a tongueless lioness (_leæna_) in bronze
before the gate of the citadel, to show in her the steadfast virtue of
silence; because being likewise privy to a conspiracy against the
tyrants, she was not dismayed by the death of two great men (her
friends), and although rent by countless most cruel tortures, she never
betrayed one of the conspirators.”[355]
Then madonna Margarita Gonzaga said:
“Methinks you narrate too briefly these virtuous deeds done by women;
for these enemies of ours, although having heard and read them, yet
pretend not to know them and fain would have the memory of them lost:
but if you will let us women hear them, we at least shall deem ourselves
honoured by them.”
24.—Then the Magnifico Giuliano replied:
“So be it. I wish to tell you now of one who did what I think my lord
Gaspar himself will admit very few men do;” and he began: “In
Massilia[356] there was once a custom that is believed to have been
brought from Greece, which was that they publicly[357] kept a poison
compounded of hemlock, and allowed anyone to take it who proved to the
Senate that he ought to lay down his life because of any trouble that he
found therein, or for other just cause, to the end that whoever had
suffered a too hostile fortune or had enjoyed a too prosperous fortune,
should not drag on the one or change the other. Now Sextus Pompey,
finding himself—”[358]
Here Frisio, not waiting for the Magnifico Giuliano to go on, said:
“Methinks this is the beginning of a long story.”
Then the Magnifico Giuliano turned to madonna Margarita laughing, and
said:
“You see that Frisio will not let me speak. I wished to tell you now
about a woman who, having shown to the Senate that she had good reason
to die, cheerfully and fearlessly took the poison in Sextus Pompey’s
presence, with such steadfastness of spirit and with such affectionate
and thoughtful remembrances to her family, that Pompey and all the
others who saw such wisdom and confidence on a woman’s part in the dread
hour of death, were lost in wonderment and tears.”
25.—Then my lord Gaspar said, laughing:
“I too remember having read a speech in which an unhappy husband asks
leave of the Senate to die, and proves that he has just cause for it in
that he cannot endure the continual annoyance of his wife’s chatter, and
prefers to drink the poison, which you say was publicly kept for such
purposes, than his wife’s words.”
The Magnifico Giuliano replied:
“How many poor women would have just cause for asking leave to die
because they cannot endure, I will not say the evil words, but the very
evil deeds of their husbands! I know several such, who suffer in this
world the pains that are said to be in hell.”
“Do you not believe,” replied my lord Gaspar, “that there are also many
husbands who have such torment of their wives that they hourly wish for
death?”
“And what pain,” said the Magnifico, “can wives give their husbands that
is as incurable as are those that husbands give their wives?—who if not
for love, at least for fear, are submissive to their husbands.”
“Certain it is,” said my lord Gaspar, “that the little good they
sometimes do proceeds from fear, since there are few in the world who in
their secret hearts do not hate their husbands.”
“Nay, quite the contrary,” replied the Magnifico; “and if you recall
aright what you have read, we see in all the histories that wives nearly
always love their husbands more than husbands love their wives. When did
you ever see or read of a husband showing his wife such a token of love
as did the famous Camma to her husband?”
“I do not know,” replied my lord Gaspar, “who the woman was, nor what
token she showed.”
“Nor I,” said Frisio.
“Listen,” replied the Magnifico; “and do you, madonna Margarita, take
care to keep it in mind.
26.—“This Camma was a very beautiful young woman, adorned with such
modesty and gentle manners that she was admirable no less for this than
for her beauty; and above other things with all her heart she loved her
husband, who was called Synattus. It happened that another gentleman,
who was of much higher station than Synattus and almost tyrant of the
city where they lived, became enamoured of this young woman; and after
having long tried by every way and means to possess her, and all in
vain, he persuaded himself that the love she bore her husband was the
sole cause that hindered his desires, and had this Synattus slain.
“So then urging her continually, he was never able to gain other
advantage than he had done at first; wherefore, his love increasing
daily, he resolved to take her for his wife, although she was far
beneath him in station. So, her parents being asked by Sinoris (for thus
the lover was called), they began to persuade her to accept him, showing
her that her consent would be very advantageous, and her refusal
dangerous to her and to them all. After resisting them awhile, she at
last replied that she was willing.
“Her parents had the news brought to Sinoris, who was happy beyond
measure and arranged that the marriage should be celebrated at once.
Both having accordingly come in state for the purpose to the temple of
Diana, Camma had a certain sweet drink brought which she had prepared;
and so before Diana’s image she drank half of it in the presence of
Sinoris; then with her own hand (for thus it was the custom to do at
marriages) she gave the rest to her spouse, who drank it all.
“When Camma saw that her plan had succeeded, she knelt all joyful at the
foot of Diana’s image, and said:
“‘O Goddess, thou who knowest the secrets of my heart, be thou sure
witness for me how hardly I refrained from putting myself to death after
my dear consort died, and with what weariness I bore the sorrow of
remaining in this bitter life, wherein I felt no other good or pleasure
beyond the hope of that vengeance which now I find I have attained.
Joyful and content, then, I go to seek the sweet company of that soul
which in life and in death I have loved more than myself. And thou,
wretch, who thoughtest to be my husband, instead of the marriage bed
give order that thy tomb be made ready for thee, for I offer thee as a
sacrifice to the shade of Synattus.’
“Aghast at these words, and already feeling the effect of the poison
stir pain within him, Sinoris tried many remedies; but they were of no
avail, and Camma had such great good fortune (or whatever else it was),
that before dying herself she knew that Sinoris was dead. Learning which
thing, she very contentedly laid herself upon her bed with eyes to
heaven, continually calling the name of Synattus, and saying:
“‘O sweetest consort, now that I have given both tears and vengeance as
last offerings for thy death, nor see that aught else is left me to do
for thee, I hasten from the world and this life,—cruel without thee and
once dear to me only for thy sake. Come then to meet me, my Lord, and
receive this soul as gladly as it gladly comes to thee.’
“And speaking thus, and with arms opened as if she would already embrace
him, she died. Now say, Frisio, what do you think of her?”[359]
Frisio replied:
“I think you fain would make these ladies weep. But even supposing this
were true, I tell you that such women are no longer to be found in the
world.”
27.—“Indeed they are to be found,” said the Magnifico; “and that this is
true, listen:
“In my time there was a gentleman at Pisa, whose name was messer
Tommaso; I do not remember of what family, although I often heard it
mentioned by my father, who was a great friend of his. Now this messer
Tommaso, crossing one day in a small vessel from Pisa to Sicily on
business, was surprised by some Moorish galleys which had come up so
stealthily that those who commanded the vessel did not suspect it; and
although the men who were in her defended themselves stoutly, yet as
they were few and the enemy many, the vessel fell into the hands of the
Moors, together with all who were in her, both wounded and whole as it
chanced, and among them messer Tommaso, who had carried himself bravely
and slain with his own hand a brother of one of the captains of the
galleys. Wherefore enraged, as you may believe, by the loss of a
brother, the captain claimed him as special prisoner, and beating and
maltreating him every day, carried him to Barbary, having resolved to
keep him there in great misery a captive for life and with grievous
pains.
“All the others got free after a time, some in one way and some in
another, and returned home and reported to his wife (whose name was
madonna Argentina) and to his children, the hard life and sore
affliction in which messer Tommaso was living and was like to go on
living without hope unless God should aid him miraculously. After she
and they were informed of this and had tried several other means to
deliver him, and when he himself was quite resigned to die, it came to
pass that watchful love so kindled the wit and daring of one of his
sons, who was called Paolo, that the youth took no heed of any kind of
danger and resolved either to die or to free his father; and this thing
was brought about in such sort that the father was conveyed away so
privily that he was in Leghorn before it was discovered in Barbary that
he had departed thence. From here messer Tommaso wrote in safety to his
wife, and informed her of his deliverance and where he was and how he
hoped to see her the next day. Overwhelmed with great and unexpected joy
at being (through the dutifulness and merit of her son) so soon to see
her husband, whom she so dearly loved and firmly believed she would
never see again,—the good and gentle lady raised her eyes to heaven when
she had read the letter, and calling her husband’s name fell dead upon
the ground; nor in spite of all the remedies that were employed upon her
did the departed spirit return again to her body. Cruel spectacle, and
enough to moderate human wishes and restrain their over-longing for too
much joy.”
28.—Then Frisio said, laughing:
“How do you know that she did not die of grief at hearing that her
husband was coming home?”
The Magnifico replied:
“Because the rest of her life did not comport with this; nay, I think
that her soul, unable to brook delay in seeing him with the eyes of her
body, forsook it, and, drawn by eagerness, quickly flew whither her
thought had flown on reading the letter.”
My lord Gaspar said:
“It may be that this lady was too loving, for women always run to
extremes in everything, which is bad; and you see that by being too
loving she wrought evil to herself, and to her husband and children, for
whom she turned to bitterness the joy of his perilous and longed-for
deliverance. So you ought by no means to cite her as one of those women
who have been the cause of such great benefits.”
The Magnifico replied:
“I cite her as one of those who bear witness that there are wives who
love their husbands; for of those who have been the cause of great
benefits to the world, I could tell you of an endless number, and
discourse to you of some so ancient that they almost seem fabulous, and
of those who among men have been the inventors of such things, that they
deserved to be esteemed as goddesses, like Pallas and Ceres; and of the
Sibyls,[360] by whose mouth God has so often spoken and revealed to the
world events that were to come; and of those who have instructed very
great men, like Aspasia,[361] and like Diotima,[362] who furthermore by
her sacrifices delayed for ten years the time of a pestilence that was
to come upon Athens. I could tell you of Nicostrate,[363] Evander’s
mother, who taught the Latins letters; and of still another woman,[364]
who was preceptress to the lyric poet Pindar;[365] and of Corinna[366]
and of Sappho,[367] who were excellent in poetry; but I do not wish to
seek out matters so far afield. I tell you, however (leaving the rest
apart), that women were perhaps not less the cause of Rome’s greatness
than men.”
“This,” said my lord Gaspar, “would be fine to hear.”
29.—The Magnifico replied:
“Then listen to it. After the fall of Troy many Trojans fled who escaped
that great disaster, some in one direction and some in another; of whom
one part, who were buffeted by many storms, came to Italy at that place
where the Tiber flows into the sea. Landing here in search of
necessaries, they began to roam about the country: the women, who had
remained in the ships, bethought themselves of a good plan that would
put an end to their perilous and long wandering by sea and give them a
new fatherland in place of that which they had lost; and after
consulting together in the absence of the men, they burned the ships;
and the first to begin the work bore the name Roma. Yet fearing the
wrath of the men, who were returning, they went out to meet these; and
embracing and kissing, some their husbands, some their kinsmen, with
tokens of affection, they softened the first impulse of anger; then they
quietly explained to the men the reason of their wise device. Whereupon
the Trojans, either from necessity or from having been kindly received
by the natives, were well pleased with what the women had done, and
dwelt there with the Latins in the place where afterwards was Rome; and
from this arose the ancient custom among the Romans that the women
kissed their kinsfolk when they met.[368] Now you see how much these
women helped to make a beginning of Rome.
30.—“Nor did the Sabine women contribute less to its increase than the
Trojan women did to its beginning. For Romulus, having excited general
enmity among all his neighbours by the seizure of their women, was
harassed by wars on every side; which (he being a man of ability) were
soon brought to a successful issue, except that with the Sabines, which
was very great because Titus Tatius, king of the Sabines, was very
powerful and wise. Wherefore, a severe conflict having taken place
between Romans and Sabines, with very heavy loss on both sides, and a
new and cruel battle making ready, the Sabine women,—clad in black, with
hair loose and torn, weeping, sorrowful, fearless of the weapons that
were already drawn to strike,—rushed in between the fathers and
husbands, imploring them to refrain from defiling their hands with the
blood of fathers-in-law and sons-in-law. And if the men were still
displeased with the alliance, let the weapons be turned against the
women, for it were better for them to die than to live widowed or
fatherless and brotherless, and to remember that their children were
begotten of those who had slain their fathers, or that they themselves
were born of those who had slain their husbands. Lamenting thus and
weeping, many of them carried their little babes in their arms,[369]
some of whom were already beginning to loose the tongue and seemed to
try to call and to make merry with their grandsires; to whom the women
showed the little ones, and said, weeping: ‘Behold your blood, which
with such heat and fury you are seeking to shed with your own hands.’
“The women’s dutifulness and wisdom wrought such great effect at this
pass, that not only were lasting friendship and union established
between the two hostile kings, but what was stranger, the Sabines came
to live at Rome, and of the two peoples a single one was made. And thus
this union greatly increased the power of Rome, thanks to those wise and
lofty-minded women, who were rewarded by Romulus in such fashion that in
dividing the people into thirty wards he gave thereto the names of the
Sabine women.”
31.—Here having paused a little, and seeing that my lord Gaspar did not
speak, the Magnifico Giuliano said:
“Do you not think that these women were the cause of good to their
men-folk and contributed to the greatness of Rome?”
My lord Gaspar replied:
“No doubt they were worthy of much praise; but had you been as willing
to tell the sins of women as their good works, you would not have
omitted to say that in this war of Titus Tatius a woman betrayed Rome
and showed the enemy the way to seize the Capitol, whereby the Romans
came near being all destroyed.”[370]
The Magnifico Giuliano replied:
“You tell me of a single bad woman, while I tell you of countless good
ones; and besides those already mentioned, I could show you a thousand
other instances on my side, of benefits done to Rome by women, and could
tell you why a temple was dedicated of old to Venus Armata,[371] and
another to Venus Calva,[372] and how the Festival of the Handmaidens was
instituted in honour of Juno because handmaidens once delivered Rome
from the wiles of the enemy.[373] But leaving all these things aside,
did not that lofty deed—the discovery of Cataline’s conspiracy, whereof
Cicero so vaunts himself—spring chiefly from a vile woman?[374]—who for
this might be said to have been the cause of all the good that Cicero
boasts of having wrought the Roman commonwealth. And had I time enough,
I should further show you that women have often corrected many of men’s
errours; but I fear that this discourse of mine is already too long and
wearisome: so, having performed according to my ability the task imposed
upon me by these ladies, I think it well to give place to someone who
will say things worthier to be listened to than any I can say.”
32.—Then my lady Emilia said:
“Do not deprive women of those true praises that are their due; and
remember that if my lord Gaspar, and perhaps my lord Ottaviano as well,
listen to you with weariness, we and all these other gentlemen listen to
you with pleasure.”
The Magnifico still wished to stop, but all the ladies began begging him
to speak: whereupon he said, laughing:
“In order not to make my lord Gaspar more my enemy than he is, I will
tell briefly of a few women who occur to my mind, omitting many that I
might mention.” Then he continued: “When Philip, son of Demetrius, was
laying siege to the city of Chios, he issued an edict promising freedom
and their masters’ wives to all slaves who should escape from the city
and come to him. So great was the women’s wrath at this shameful edict
that they rushed to the walls in arms, and fought so fiercely that in a
short time they drove Philip off with disgrace and loss: which their
husbands had not been able to do.[375]
“When these same women came to Leuconia with their husbands, fathers and
brothers (who were going into exile), they performed a deed no less
glorious than this: the Erythræans,[376] who were there with their
allies, waged war upon these Chiotes, who were unable to resist, and so
bound themselves to quit the city in tunic and shift only. Hearing of
this shameful bargain, the women bewailed and upbraided the men for
abandoning their weapons and going forth almost naked among the enemy;
and the men answering that they were already bound, the women told them
to wear their shields and spears and leave their clothes behind, and to
tell the enemy that this was their attire. And thus, acting upon the
advice of their women, they in great part atoned for the shame that they
could not wholly escape.
“Again, Cyrus having routed an army of Persians in battle, in fleeing to
their city they met their women outside the gate, who, stopping in the
way, said: ‘Whither do ye flee, base men? Would ye perchance hide
yourselves in us, from whence ye came?’ On hearing these and other like
words, and being sensible how inferior they were in courage to their
women, the men were ashamed, and returning against the enemy, fought
with him anew and routed him.”[377]
33.—Having thus far spoken, the Magnifico stopped, and turning to my
lady Duchess, said:
“Now, my Lady, you will give me leave to be silent.”
My lord Gaspar replied:
“You will forsooth have to be silent, for you do not know what more to
say.”
The Magnifico said, laughing:
“You provoke me so, that you run risk of having to listen to women’s
praises all night; and to hear of many Spartan women who rejoiced in the
glorious death of their children;[378] and of those who disowned or even
slew theirs when seen to behave basely. Then how in the ruin of their
country the Saguntine women took up arms against the forces of
Hannibal;[379] and how, when Marius overcame the army of the Germans,
the women, being unable to get leave to live free at Rome in the service
of the Vestal Virgins, all killed themselves and their little
children;[380] and of a thousand others whereof all the ancient
histories are full.”
Then my lord Gaspar said:
“Ah, my lord Magnifico, but God knows how those things happened; for
that age is so remote from us that many lies can be told and there is
none to refute them.”
34.—The Magnifico said:
“If in every age you will compare women’s worth with that of men, you
will find that they have never been and are not now at all inferior to
men in worth; for leaving aside the times that are so ancient, if you
come to the time when the Goths ruled in Italy, you will find that there
was a queen among them, Amalasontha,[381] who long reigned with
admirable wisdom; then Theodolinda,[382] queen of the Lombards, of
singular worth; Theodora,[383] the Greek empress; and in Italy among
many others the Countess Matilda was a most illustrious lady, of whose
praises I will leave Count Ludovico to speak, since she was of his
family.”[384]
“Nay,” said the Count, “that rests with you, for you know it does not
become a man to praise what is his own.”
The Magnifico continued:
“And how many women in times past do you find belonging to this most
noble house of Montefeltro![385] How many of the house of Gonzaga, of
Este, of Pio![386] Then, if we wish to speak of the present times, we
shall have no need to seek very far for instances, because we have them
at home. But I shall not avail myself of those we see before us, lest
you pretend to grant me out of courtesy that which you can in no wise
deny. And to go outside of Italy, remember that we in our day have seen
Queen Anne of France,[387] a very great lady not less in worth than in
state; and if you will compare her in justice and clemency, liberality
and pureness of life, with Kings Charles[388] and Louis[250] (to both of
whom she was consort), you will not find her at all their inferior. You
see madonna Margarita[389] (daughter of the Emperor Maximilian)[390] who
has until now governed and still governs her state with the utmost
wisdom and justice.
35.—“But laying all others aside, tell me, my lord Gaspar, what king or
what prince has there been in our days, or even for many years past in
Christendom, who deserves to be compared with Queen Isabella of
Spain?”[391]
My lord Gaspar replied:
“King Ferdinand, her husband.”[392]
The Magnifico continued:
“That I shall not deny; for since the queen judged him worthy to be her
husband, and so loved and honoured him, we cannot say that he did not
deserve to be compared with her: yet I believe that the fame he had by
her was a dowry not inferior to the kingdom of Castile.”
[Illustration:
ISABELLA THE CATHOLIC
1451-1504
]
Much enlarged from a part of Laurent’s photograph (no. 533) of an
altar-piece, formerly in the royal chapel of the Convent of St.
Thomas de Avila, but now in the Prado Gallery at Madrid. It was
painted about 1491 by order of the Inquisitor Torquemada, and has
been attributed to Miguel Zittoz.
“Nay,” replied my lord Gaspar, “I think that Queen Isabella had credit
for many of King Ferdinand’s deeds.”
Then the Magnifico said:
“Unless the people of Spain,—lords, commons, men and women, poor and
rich,—have all agreed to lie in praise of her, there has not been in our
time on earth a brighter example of true goodness, of lofty spirit, of
wisdom, of piety, of purity, of courtesy, of liberality,—in short, of
every virtue,—than Queen Isabella; and although the fame of that
illustrious lady is very great in every place and among every nation,
those who lived in her company and were witness to her actions, do all
affirm that this fame sprang from her virtue and merits. And whoever
will consider her deeds will easily perceive such to be the truth. For
leaving aside countless things that give proof of this and could be told
if it were our theme, everyone knows that when she came to reign she
found the greater part of Castile usurped by the grandees; yet she
recovered the whole so righteously and in such fashion that the very men
who were deprived of it, remained very devoted to her and content to
give up that which they possessed.
“A very noted thing also is with what courage and wisdom she always
defended her realms against very powerful enemies; and likewise to her
alone can be given the honour of the glorious conquest of the kingdom of
Granada; for in this long and difficult war against obstinate
enemies,—who were fighting for property, for life, for religion, and (to
their thinking) for God,—she always showed, both in her counsel and in
her very person, such virtue that perhaps few princes in our time have
had the hardihood, I will not say to imitate, but even to envy her.
“Besides this, all who knew her affirm that she had such a divine manner
of ruling that her mere wish seemed enough to make every man do quietly
that which he ought to do; so that men hardly dared in their own houses
and secretly to do anything they thought would displease her: and in
great part the cause of this was the admirable judgment she had in
discerning and choosing right agents for the duties she meant to employ
them in; and so well did she know how to unite the rigour of justice
with the gentleness of mercy and liberality, that in her day there was
no good man who complained of being ill rewarded, nor any bad man of
being too severely punished. Thus there sprang up among the people an
exceeding great reverence for her, composed of love and fear, which
still remains so implanted in the minds of all, that they almost seem to
think that she looks down upon them from heaven and must bestow praise
or blame upon them from above; and thus those realms are still governed
by her name and the methods she ordained, so that although her life is
at an end, her authority lives,—like a wheel which, long revolved with
force, still turns of itself for a good space, although nothing more
impels it.
“Consider also, my lord Gaspar, that in our times nearly all the men in
Spain who are great or famous for anything whatever, were made so by
Queen Isabella; and Consalvo Ferdinando, the Great Captain, was far
prouder of this than of all his famous victories, and of those eminent
and worthy deeds which have made him so bright and illustrious in peace
and war, that if fame is not very thankless, she will always herald his
immortal praises to the world, and give proof that we have in our age
had few kings or great princes who have not been surpassed by him in
magnanimity, wisdom, and in every virtue.
36.—“Returning now to Italy, I say that here too there is no lack of
very admirable ladies; for in Naples we have two remarkable queens;[393]
and a short time since there died at Naples also the other queen of
Hungary,[394] you know how admirable a lady, and worthy to be the peer
of the unconquerable and glorious king, Matthias Corvinus, her
husband.[395] Likewise the Duchess Isabella of Aragon, worthy sister to
King Ferdinand of Naples; who (like gold in the fire) showed her virtue
and worth amid the storms of fortune.[396]
[Illustration:
ISABELLA D’ESTE
MARCHIONESS OF MANTUA
1474-1539
]
Reduced from a part of Braun’s photograph (no. 34.093) of the portrait
by Titian (1477-1576) in the Imperial Museum at Vienna. The picture
was painted about 1536 from a portrait painted about 1511 by
Francesco Raibolini, better known as Francia, (1450-1517). See
Alessandro Luzio’s article in the _Emporium_ (Bergamo), nos. 65-6.
“If you come to Lombardy, you will find my lady Isabella, Marchioness of
Mantua;[397] to whose very admirable virtues injustice would be done in
speaking as soberly as in this place anyone must needs do who would
speak of her at all. I regret, too, that you did not all know her sister
the Duchess Beatrice of Milan, in order that you might never more have
need to marvel at woman’s capacity.[398] And Eleanora of Aragon, Duchess
of Ferrara and mother of both these two ladies whom I have mentioned,
was of such sort that her very admirable virtues bore good witness to
all the world that she not only was a worthy daughter of a king, but
deserved to be queen over a much greater realm than all her ancestors
had possessed.[399] And to tell you of another, how many men do you know
in the world who have borne the cruel blows of fortune as patiently as
Queen Isabella of Naples has done?[400]—who, after the loss of her
kingdom, the exile and death of her husband King Federico[401] and of
two children, and the captivity of her first-born, the Duke of
Calabria,[402] still shows herself to be a queen, and so endures the
grievous burdens of bitter poverty as to give all men proof that
although her fortunes are changed, her rank is not.
“I refrain from mentioning countless other ladies, and also women of low
degree; like many Pisan women, who in defence of their city against the
Florentines displayed that generous daring, without any fear of death,
which might have been displayed by the most unconquerable souls that
have ever been on earth; wherefore some of them have been celebrated by
many noble poets.[403]
“I could tell you of some who were very excellent in letters, in music,
in painting, in sculpture; but I do not wish to go on selecting from
among these instances that are perfectly well known to you all. It is
enough that if you reflect upon the women whom you yourselves know, it
is not difficult for you to perceive that they are for the most part not
inferior in worth and merits to their fathers, brothers and husbands;
and that not a few have been the source of good to men and often have
corrected many a one of his errours; and if there are not now to be
found on earth those great queens who march to the conquest of distant
lands, and erect great buildings, pyramids and cities,—like that famous
Tomyris, Queen of Scythia, Artemisia, Zenobia, Semiramis or
Cleopatra,[404]—neither are there men like Cæsar, Alexander, Scipio,
Lucullus and those other Roman commanders.”
37.—“Say not so,” replied Frisio, laughing; “for now more than ever are
there women to be found like Cleopatra or Semiramis; and if they have
not such great states, power and riches, yet they lack not the good will
to imitate those queens in giving themselves pleasure, and in satisfying
as far as they can all their appetites.”
The Magnifico Giuliano said:
“You always wish to go beyond bounds, Frisio; but if there are some
Cleopatras to be found, there is no lack of countless Sardanapaluses,
which is far worse.”[405]
Then my lord Gaspar said:
“Do not draw these comparisons, or imagine that men are more incontinent
than women; and even if they were so, it would not be worse, for from
women’s incontinence countless evils result that do not from men’s.
Therefore, as was said yesterday, it is wisely ordained that women are
allowed to fail in all other things without blame, to the end that they
may be able to devote all their strength to keeping themselves in this
one virtue of chastity; without which their children would be uncertain,
and that tie would be dissolved which binds the whole world by blood and
by the natural love of each man for what he has produced. Hence loose
living is more forbidden to women than to men, who do not carry their
children for nine months within them.”
38.—Then the Magnifico replied:
“Verily these are fine arguments which you cite, and I do not see why
you do not commit them to writing.
“But tell me why it is not ordained that loose living is as disgraceful
a thing in men as in women, seeing that if men are by nature more
virtuous and of greater worth, they could all the more easily practise
this virtue of continence also; and their children would be neither more
nor less certain, for although women were unchaste, they could of
themselves merely and without other aid in no wise bear children,
provided men were continent and did not take part in women’s unchastity.
But if you will say the truth, even you know that we men have of our own
authority arrogated to ourselves a licence, whereby we insist that the
same sins are in us very trivial and sometimes praiseworthy, and in
women cannot be sufficiently punished, unless by shameful death or
perpetual infamy at least.
“Wherefore, since this opinion is prevalent, methinks it were a fitting
thing to punish severely those also who with lies cast infamy on women;
and I think that every noble cavalier is bound always to defend the
truth with arms where there is need, and especially when he knows some
woman to be falsely accused of little chastity.”
39.—“And I,” replied my lord Gaspar, laughing, “not only affirm that
which you say is the duty of every noble cavalier, but I think that it
is an act of great courtesy and gentleness to conceal the fault a woman
may have committed through mischance or over-love; and thus you may see
that I am more on the side of women, where reason permits it, than you
are.
“I do not, indeed, deny that men have taken a little liberty; and this
because they know that according to universal opinion loose living does
not bring them the infamy that it does to women; who by reason of the
frailty of their sex are much more inclined towards their appetites than
men are; and if they sometimes refrain from satisfying their desires,
they do so from shame and not because their will is not quite ready.
Therefore men have put the fear of infamy upon them as a bridle to keep
them almost by force to this virtue, without which they were in truth
little to be prized; for the world has no good from women except the
bearing of children.
“But this is not the case with men, who rule cities and armies, and do
so many other things of importance. Since you will have it so, I do not
care to deny that women can do these things; it is enough that they do
not. And when men have seen fit to set a pattern of continence, they
have excelled women in this virtue as well as in the others also,
although you do not admit it. And as to this I will not rehearse so many
histories and fables as you have done, but merely refer you to the
continence of two very great young lords, and to their victory, which is
wont to make even men of lowest rank insolent. One is that of Alexander
the Great towards the very beautiful women of Darius,—an enemy, and a
vanquished one at that;[406] the other, of Scipio, who having at the age
of twenty-four years taken a city in Spain by force, there was brought
before him a very beautiful and noble young woman, captured along with
many others; and hearing that she was the bride of a gentleman of the
country, Scipio not only abstained from any wanton act towards her, but
restored her unspotted to her husband, bestowing a rich gift upon her
besides.[407]
“I could tell you of Xenocrates,[408] who was so continent that a very
beautiful woman having laid herself down unclothed beside him, and
employing all the caresses and using all the arts that she knew, whereof
she was an admirable mistress, she had not the power to make him show
the slightest sign of impudicity, although she tried one whole night
long; and of Pericles, who on merely hearing someone praise a boy’s
beauty with overwarmth, reproved him sharply;[409] and of many others
who have been very continent of their own choice, and not from shame or
fear of punishment, which move most women who practise this virtue: who
for all that deserve to be highly praised, and he who falsely casts the
infamy of unchasteness upon them is worthy of the heaviest punishment,
as you have said.”
40.—Then messer Cesare, who had been silent a long while, said:
“Think in what fashion my lord Gaspar is wont to speak in blame of
woman, if these are the things that he says in their praise. But if my
lord Magnifico will let me say a few things in his stead by way of reply
to such matters as my lord Gaspar has, to my thinking, said falsely
against women, it were well for both of us; as he will rest awhile and
then be better able to go on to declare some other excellence of the
Court Lady, and I shall hold myself much favoured at having an
opportunity to share with him this duty of a good cavalier—that is, to
defend the truth.”
“Nay, I pray you do so,” replied my lord Magnifico; “for methinks I have
already fulfilled my duty to the extent of my powers, and this
discussion is now outside my subject.”
Messer Cesare continued:
“I am far from wishing to speak of the good that women do in the world
besides the bearing of children, for it has been sufficiently shown how
necessary they are not only to our being, but to our well-being; but I
say, my lord Gaspar, that if they are as you say more inclined to their
appetites than men, and if for all that they abstain therefrom more than
men, which you admit,—they are as much worthier of praise as their sex
is less strong to resist their natural appetites. And if you say they do
it from shame, methinks that in place of a single virtue you give them
two; for if shame is stronger in them than appetite and they for that
reason abstain from evil acts, I think that this shame (which in short
is nothing else but fear of infamy) is a very rare virtue and one
possessed by very few men. And if I could, without infinite disgrace to
men, tell how many of them are plunged in shamelessness (which is the
vice opposed to this virtue), I should pollute these chaste ears that
hear me. These offenders against God and nature are for the most part
men already old, who make a calling, some of the priesthood, some of
philosophy, some of sacred law; and govern public affairs with a
Catonian severity of countenance that gives promise of all the integrity
in the world; and always allege the feminine sex to be very incontinent;
nor do they ever lament anything more than their loss of natural vigor,
which renders them unable to satisfy the abominable desires that still
linger in their thoughts after being denied by nature to their bodies;
and hence they often find ways wherein strength is not necessary.
41.—“But I do not wish to say more; and it is enough for me that you
grant me that women abstain from unchaste living more than men; and
certain it is that they are restrained by no other bridle than that
which they themselves put on. That this is true, the greater part of
those who are confined with too close care, or beaten by their husbands
or fathers, are less chaste than those who have some liberty.
“But a great bridle to women generally is their love of true virtue and
their desire for honour, whereof many whom I have known in my time make
more account than of their very life; and if you will say the truth,
every one of us has seen very noble youths, discreet, wise, valiant and
beautiful, spend many years in love, without omitting aught of care, of
gifts, of prayers, of tears, in short, of anything that can be imagined;
and all in vain. And but that I might be told that my qualities have
never made me worthy of ever being loved, I should call myself as
witness, who have more than once been nigh to death because of a woman’s
unchangeable and too stern chastity.”
My lord Gaspar replied:
“Marvel not at that: for women who are always wooed refuse to please him
who wooes them; and they who are not wooed, woo others.”[410]
42.—Messer Cesare said:
“I have never known these men who are wooed by women; but very many who,
on finding that they have tried in vain and spent time foolishly, resort
to this noble revenge, and say they have had an abundance of that which
they have only imagined, and think it a kind of courtiership to speak
evil and invent tales to the end that slanderous stories of some noble
lady may spring up among the rabble. But such as these, who make vile
boast (whether true or false) of conquering a gentle lady, deserve
punishment or torture most severe; and if they sometimes meet it, we
cannot measure the praise due to those who perform the office. For if
they are telling lies, what villainy can be greater than to steal from a
worthy lady that which she values more than life? And for no other
reason than that which ought to win endless praise for her? Again, if
they are telling the truth, what punishment could suffice for a man who
is so vile as to reward with such ingratitude a woman, who,—vanquished
by false flatteries, by feigned tears, by continual wooing, by laments,
by arts, tricks and perjuries,—has suffered herself to be led into too
great love, and then without reserve has fondly given herself a prey to
such a malign spirit?
“But to answer you further touching that unheard-of continence of
Alexander and Scipio which you have cited, I say I am unwilling to deny
that both performed an act worthy of much praise; yet to the end that
you may not be able to say that in rehearsing ancient matters I tell you
fables, I wish to cite a woman of low degree in our own times, who
showed far more continence than these two great men.
43.—“I say, then, that I once knew a beautiful and gentle girl, whose
name I do not tell you lest you give food for slander to many fools, who
conceive a bad opinion of a woman as soon as they hear of her being in
love. Well, this girl having been long loved by a noble and
well-conditioned youth, began to love him with all her mind and heart;
and of this not only I (to whom she voluntarily confided everything as
if I had been, I will not say her brother, but her dearest sister), but
all those who saw her in the presence of the beloved youth, were very
certain of her passion. Loving thus as fervently as a very loving soul
can love, she maintained such continence for two years that she never
gave this youth any token of loving him, except such as she could not
hide; neither would she ever speak to him or receive letters from him or
gifts, although a day never passed but she was besought to do both. And
I well know how she longed for it, because if she was sometimes able to
possess anything secretly that had been the youth’s, she held it so dear
that it seemed to be the source of her life and all her weal; and never
in all that time would she grant him other pleasure than to see him and
let herself be seen, and to dance with him as with the others when she
took part in public festivals.
“And since they were well suited to each other in condition, the girl
and the youth desired that their great love might end happily, and that
they might be man and wife together. The same was desired by all the
other men and women of their city, except her cruel father, who out of
perverse and strange caprice wished to marry her to another and richer
man; and to this the unhappy girl opposed naught but very bitter tears.
And the ill-starred marriage having been concluded, with much pity from
the people and to the despair of the poor lovers, even this blow of
fortune did not avail to destroy the love so deeply rooted in their
hearts; which still endured for the space of three years, although she
very prudently concealed it and sought in every way to stifle those
desires that now were hopeless. And all this time she kept her stern
resolve of continence; and as she could not honourably possess him whom
alone in the world she adored, she chose not to wish for him in any
wise, and to follow her custom of accepting neither messages nor gifts
nor even glances from him; and in this fixed resolve, the poor girl,
overcome by sharpest anguish and grown very wasted from long passion,
died at the end of three years, preferring to renounce the joys and
pleasures so eagerly desired, and at last her very life, rather than her
honour. Nor was she without ways and means of satisfying herself quite
secretly and without risk of disgrace or any other harm; and yet she
abstained from that which she herself so greatly desired and towards
which she was so urged continually by the person whom alone in the world
she desired to please: nor was she moved therein by fear or any other
motive than mere love of true virtue.
“What will you say of another, who for six months spent nearly every
night with a dearly cherished lover; yet, in a garden full of sweetest
fruits, invited by her own most ardent longing and by the prayers and
tears of one dearer to her than life itself, she refrained from tasting
them; and although she was caught and held in the fast bonds of those
beloved arms, she never yielded herself vanquished, but preserved the
flower of her chastity immaculate.
44.—“Do you think, my lord Gaspar, that these acts of continence are
equal to Alexander’s?—who (being most ardently enamoured, not of
Darius’s women, but of that fame and greatness which incited him by
thirst for glory to endure toils and dangers to make himself immortal)
spurned not only other things, but his own life, in order to win renown
above all other men. And do we marvel that with such thoughts at heart
he abstained from something he did not much desire? For since he had
never seen the women before, he could not possibly love them in a
moment, but perhaps even loathed them because of his enemy Darius; and
in that case every wanton act of his towards them would have been
outrage and not love. Hence it is no great thing that Alexander, who
conquered the world no less by magnanimity than by arms, abstained from
doing outrage to women.
“Scipio’s continence also is much to be praised. Yet if you consider
rightly, it is not to be compared with these two women’s; for he too
likewise abstained from something not desired;—being in a hostile
country, newly in command, at the beginning of a very important
enterprise; having left great expectations of himself at home, and bound
to render an account to very strict judges, who often punished very
small mistakes as well as great, and among whom he knew he had enemies;
conscious also that if he acted otherwise (the lady being very noble and
married to a very noble lord), he might arouse so many enemies and in
such fashion that they might long hinder and perhaps quite snatch away
his success. Hence, for reasons thus many and important, he abstained
from a light and harmful wish, displaying continence and generous
uprightness; which, as it is written, gave him the entire good will of
those nations, and was worth another army to him, wherewith by
gentleness to conquer hearts that perhaps would have been unconquerable
by force of arms.[411]
. . . . . .
“Forgive me, my lord Gaspar, if I say the truth, for in short these are
the miraculous continences that men write about themselves while
accusing women of incontinence, in whom we every day see countless
tokens of continence; for in truth, if you consider well, there is no
fortress so impregnable and well defended that, if it were assailed with
a thousandth part of the wiles and tricks that are employed to overcome
the steadfast heart of woman, it would not surrender at the first
assault.
“How many creatures of great lords,—enriched by them and placed in very
high esteem, entrusted with their castles and fortresses, whereon depend
their whole state, life and weal,—have basely and sordidly surrendered
these to such as had no right thereto, without shame or fear of being
called traitors? And would to God there were so great a dearth of such
men in our days, that we might have no more trouble to find a man who
had done his duty in this regard, than to name those who have failed in
theirs. Do we not see many others who daily go about slaying men in the
forest and scouring the sea solely to steal money?
“How many prelates sell the property of God’s church! How many lawyers
forge wills! How many perjurers bear false witness only to get money!
How many physicians poison the sick to the same end! Again, how many do
the vilest things from fear of death! And yet a tender and delicate girl
often resists all these sharp and hard encounters; for many have been
found who preferred death rather than lose their chastity.”
47.—Then my lord Gaspar said:
“These, messer Cesare, I believe are not on earth to-day.”
Messer Cesare replied:
“I will not cite the ancients now; but I tell you this, that many would
be and are to be found, who in such case do not fear to die. And now I
remember that when Capua was sacked by the French (which was not so long
ago that you cannot recall it very well),[412] a beautiful young Capuan
lady being led out of her house, where she had been captured by a
company of Gascons, when she reached the river that flows through
Capua,[413] she pretended that she wished to tie her shoe, so that he
who was leading her let her go a little, and she suddenly threw herself
into the river.
“What will you say of a peasant girl, who not many months ago, at
Gazuolo in the Mantuan territory,[414] went with her sister to reap corn
in the fields, and being overcome with thirst, entered a house for a
drink of water; and the master of the house, who was a young man, seeing
that she was very beautiful and alone, took her in his arms, and first
with soft words, and then with threats, sought to persuade her to his
wishes; and she resisting more and more stubbornly, he at last overcame
her with many blows and with force. So, dishevelled and weeping, she
went back to her sister in the field, nor would she for all her sister’s
urgent questioning tell what outrage she had received in that house; but
on the way home, feigning to grow calmer little by little and to speak
quite without agitation, she gave her sister some directions. Then when
she came to the Oglio, which is the river that flows by Gazuolo,[415]
she left her sister a little behind not knowing or imagining what she
meant to do, and suddenly threw herself in. Wailing and weeping her
sister ran after her as fast as possible along the bank of the river,
which was bearing her down-stream very rapidly: and each time the poor
creature rose to the surface, her sister threw her a cord which they had
to bind the corn, and although the cord reached her hands several times
(for she was still near the bank), the steadfast and determined girl
always refused it and put it from her; and thus rejecting every aid that
might save her life, she soon died: nor was she moved by nobility of
birth, nor by fear of most cruel death or of infamy, but solely by grief
for her lost virginity.[416]
[Illustration:
LUDOVICO GONZAGA
BISHOP OF MANTUA
1458-1511
]
From a photograph, specially made by Signor Lanzoni, of a part of the
fresco, “The Return of Cardinal Francesco Gonzaga,” in the _Sala
degli Sposi_ of the Gonzaga Palace at Mantua, painted not later than
1474 by Andrea Mantegna (1431-1506). See Woltmann’s _Geschichte der
Malerei_, ii, 268.
“Now from this you can understand how many other women, who are not
known, perform acts most worthy of praise; for although this one gave
such proof of her virtue only three days since, as one may say, there is
no talk of her and even her name is unknown. But if the death of our
lady Duchess’s uncle, the Bishop of Mantua,[417] had not occurred at
that time, the bank of the Oglio, at the place where she threw herself
in, would have been graced by a very beautiful monument to the memory of
that glorious soul, which deserved so much the brighter fame after
death, because in life it dwelt in a less noble body.”
48.—Here messer Cesare made a little pause; then he continued:
“At Rome, in my day, there happened another like case; and it was that a
beautiful and noble Roman girl, being long pursued by one who seemed to
love her much, was never willing to favour him at all, even with a
single look. So, by means of money he corrupted one of her women; who,
desirous of satisfying him in order to get more money from him,
persuaded her mistress to visit the church of San Sebastiano on a
certain day of small solemnity;[418] and having made everything known to
the lover and shown him what he must do, she led the girl to one of
those dark caves which nearly all who go to San Sebastiano are wont to
visit; and in this the young man was already hidden secretly.
“Finding himself alone with her whom he loved so much, he began in all
ways to beg her as gently as he could to have pity on him and change her
former hardness to love. But after he saw all his prayers to be in vain,
he had resort to threats, which failing too, he began to beat her
cruelly; at last, although firmly resolved to attain his end, by force
if necessary, and therein employing the help of the infamous woman who
had led her thither, he was never able to bring her to consent. Nay,
with both word and deed (although she had little strength), the poor
girl defended herself to the last: so that partly from anger at seeing
that he could not obtain what he desired, partly from fear lest her
relatives might make him suffer for it when they learned the thing, this
wretch, with the help of the servant (who feared the like), strangled
the unhappy girl and left her there; and having fled, he took means not
to be discovered. Blinded by her very crime, the servant could not flee,
and being taken into custody on suspicion, confessed everything and so
was punished as she deserved.
“The body of the steadfast and noble girl was taken from that cave with
the greatest honour and brought to Rome for burial, with a laurel crown
upon her head, and accompanied by a countless host of men and women;
among whom there was no one who went home without tears in his eyes; and
thus was this rare soul universally mourned as well as praised by all
the people.
49.—“But to speak to you of those whom you yourselves know, do you not
remember having heard that when my lady Felice della Rovere was
journeying to Savona,[419] and feared that some sails that were sighted
were vessels of Pope Alexander in pursuit of her, she made ready with
fixed resolve to cast herself into the sea, in case they should come up
and there was no remedy by flight: and it is in no wise to be believed
that she acted in this from lightness, for you know as well as any other
with what intelligence and wisdom this lady’s singular beauty was
accompanied.
“Nor can I refrain from saying a word of our lady Duchess, who having
for fifteen years lived like a widow in company with her husband, not
only was steadfast in never revealing this to anyone in the world, but
when urged by her own people to lay aside her widowhood, she chose
rather to endure exile, poverty and every other sort of hardship, than
to accept that which seemed to all others great favour and blessing of
fortune;”[420] and as messer Cesare was going on to speak of this, my
lady Duchess said:
“Speak of something else, and go no further with this subject, for you
have many other things to say.”
Messer Cesare continued:
“Yet I know you will not deny this, my lord Gaspar, nor you, Frisio.”
“Indeed no,” replied Frisio; “but one does not make a host.”
50.—Then messer Cesare said:
“It is true that such great results as these are met in few women:
still, those also who withstand the assaults of love are all admirable;
and those who are sometimes overcome deserve much pity: for certainly
the urgence of lovers, the arts they use, the snares they spread, are so
many and so continual that it is but too great a wonder that a tender
girl can escape. What day, what hour, ever passes that the persecuted
girl is not besought by the lover with money, gifts and all things that
must please her? When can she ever go to her window, but she shall
always see her persistent lover pass, silent in word but with eyes that
speak, with sad and languid face, with those burning sighs, often with
most abundant tears? When does she ever go forth to church or other
place, but he is always before her, and meets her at every turn of the
street with his melancholy passion depicted in his eyes, as if he were
expecting instant death? I leave aside the fripperies, inventions,
mottoes, devices, festivals, dances, games, masques, jousts,
tourneys!—all which things she knows are made for her.
“Then at night she can never wake but she hears music, or at least his
unquiet spirit sighing about the house walls and making lamentable
sounds. If by chance she wishes to speak to one of her women, the wench
(already corrupted with money) soon has ready a little gift, a letter, a
sonnet or some such thing to give her on the lover’s behalf, and then
coming in opportunely, makes her understand how the poor man is burning
with love, and in her service cares naught for his own life; and how he
seeks nothing from her that is less than seemly, and only desires to
speak with her. Then remedies are found for all difficulties, false
keys, rope ladders, sleeping potions; the thing is painted as of little
consequence; instances are given of many other women who do far worse.
Thus everything is made so easy that she has no further trouble than to
say, ‘I am willing.’ And even if the poor girl holds back for a time,
they add so many inducements, find so many ways, that with their
continual battering they break down that which stays her.
“And when they see that blandishments do not avail them, there are many
who have resort to threats and say they will accuse the woman to her
husband of being what she is not. Others bargain boldly with the fathers
and often with the husbands, who for money or to get favours give their
own daughters and wives as an unwilling prey. Others seek by
incantations and sorceries to steal from them that liberty which God has
bestowed upon their souls: whereof startling results are seen.
“But I could not in a thousand years rehearse all the wiles that men
employ to bring women to their wishes, for the wiles are infinite; and
besides those that every man finds for himself, writers have not been
lacking who have ingeniously composed books and therein taken every
pains to teach how women are to be duped in these matters.[421] Now,
among so many snares, think how there can be any safety for these simple
doves, lured by such sweet bait. And what wonder is it, then, if a woman
(seeing herself thus loved and adored for many years by a beautiful,
noble and accomplished youth, who a thousand times a day puts himself in
danger of death to serve her, nor ever thinks of aught but to please
her) is finally brought to love him by continual wearing (as water wears
the hardest marble), and, conquered by this passion, contents him with
that which you say she in the weakness of her sex desires more than her
lover? Do you think that this errour is so grave that the poor creature
who has been caught by so many flatteries, does not deserve even that
pardon which is often vouchsafed to homicides, thieves, assassins and
traitors? Will you insist that this offence is so heinous that because
you find some woman commits it, womankind ought to be wholly despised
and held universally devoid of continence, without regard to the many
who are found unconquerable, and who are proof against love’s continual
incitements, and firmer in their infinite constancy than rocks against
the surges of the ocean?”
51.—Messer Cesare having ceased speaking, my lord Gaspar then began to
reply, but my lord Ottaviano said, laughing:
“For the love of Heaven, pray grant him the victory, for I know you will
profit little; and methinks I see that you will make not only all these
ladies your enemies, but the greater part of the men also.”
My lord Gaspar laughed, and said:
“Nay, the ladies have great cause to thank me; for if I had not gainsaid
my lord Magnifico and messer Cesare, all these praises which they have
bestowed upon women would not have been heard.”
[Illustration:
FERDINAND THE CATHOLIC
1452-1516
]
Much enlarged from a part of Laurent’s photograph (no. 533) of an
altar-piece, formerly in the royal chapel of the Convent of St.
Thomas de Avila, but now in the Prado Gallery at Madrid. It was
painted about 1491 by order of the Inquisitor Torquemada, and has
been attributed to Miguel Zittoz.
Then messer Cesare said:
“The things that my lord Magnifico and I have said in praise of women,
and many others too, were very well known and hence superfluous.
“Who does not know that without women we can feel no content or
satisfaction throughout this life of ours, which but for them would be
rude and devoid of all sweetness and more savage than that of wild
beasts? Who does not know that women alone banish from our hearts all
vile and base thoughts, vexations, miseries, and those turbid
melancholies that so often are their fellows? and if you will consider
well the truth, we shall also see that in our understanding of great
matters women do not hamper our wits but rather quicken them, and in war
make men fearless and brave beyond measure. And certainly it is
impossible for vileness ever again to rule in a man’s heart where once
the flame of love has entered; for whoever loves desires always to make
himself as lovable as he can, and always fears lest some disgrace befall
him that may make him to be esteemed lightly with her by whom he desires
to be esteemed highly. Nor does he stop at risking his life a thousand
times a day to show himself worthy of her love: hence whoever could form
an army of lovers and have them fight in the presence of the ladies of
their love, would conquer all the world, unless there were opposed to it
another army similarly in love. And be well assured that Troy’s ten
years’ resistance against all Greece proceeded from naught else but a
few lovers, who on sallying forth to battle, armed themselves in the
presence of their women; and often these women helped them and spoke
some word to them at leaving, which inflamed them and made them more
than men. Then in battle they knew that they were watched by their women
from the walls and towers; wherefore it seemed to them that every act of
hardihood they performed, every proof they gave, won them their women’s
praise, which was the greatest reward they could have in the world.
“There are many who think that the victory of King Ferdinand of Spain
and Queen Isabella against the King of Granada was in great part due to
women; for very often when the Spanish army went out to meet the enemy,
Queen Isabella went out also with all her maids of honour, and in the
army went many noble cavaliers who were in love. These always went
conversing with their ladies until they reached the place where the
enemy were seen, then taking leave each of his own lady, they went on in
this presence to meet the enemy with that fierce spirit which was
aroused in them by their love and by the desire to make their ladies
sensible of being served by men of valour; thus a very few Spanish
cavaliers were often found putting a host of Moors to flight and to
death, thanks to gentle and beloved women.
“So I do not see, my lord Gaspar, what perversity of judgment has led
you to cast reproach on women.
52.—“Do you not know that the origin of all the graceful exercises that
give pleasure in the world is to be ascribed to none other than to
women? Who learns to dance and caper gallantly for aught else than to
please women? Who studies the sweetness of music for other cause than
this? Who tries to compose verses, in the vernacular at least, unless to
express those feelings that are inspired by women? Think how many very
noble poems we should be deprived of, both in the Greek tongue and in
the Latin, if women had been lightly esteemed by the poets. But to pass
all the others by, would it not have been a very great loss if messer
Francesco Petrarch, who so divinely wrote his loves in this language of
ours, had turned his mind solely to things Latin, as he would have done
if the love of madonna Laura had not sometimes drawn him from them?[422]
I do not name you the bright geniuses now on earth and present here, who
every day put forth some noble fruit and yet choose their subject only
from the beauties and virtues of women.
“You see that Solomon, wishing to write mystically of things lofty and
divine, to cover them with a graceful veil composed a fervent and tender
dialogue between a lover and his sweetheart, deeming that he could not
here below find any similitude more apt and befitting things divine than
love for women; and in this way he tried to give us a little of the
savour of that divinity which he both by knowledge and by grace knew
better than the rest.[423]
“Hence there was no need, my lord Gaspar, to dispute about this, or at
least so wordily: but by gainsaying the truth you have prevented us from
hearing a thousand other fine and weighty matters concerning the
perfection of the Court Lady.”
My lord Gaspar replied:
“I believe nothing more is left to say; yet if you think that my lord
Magnifico has not adorned her with enough good qualities, the fault lay
not with him, but with the one who arranged that there are not more
virtues in the world; for the Magnifico gave her all there are.”
My lady Duchess said, laughing:
“You shall now see that my lord Magnifico will find still others.”
The Magnifico replied:
“Indeed, my Lady, methinks I have said enough, and for my part I am
content with this Lady of mine; and if these gentlemen will not have her
as she is, let them leave her to me.”
53.—Here everyone remaining silent, messer Federico said:
“My lord Magnifico, to spur you on to say something more, I should like
to put you a question concerning what you would have the chief business
of the Court Lady, and it is this: that I wish to hear how she ought to
conduct herself with respect to one detail which seems to me very
important; for although the excellent qualities wherewith you have
endowed her include genius, wisdom, good sense, ease of bearing,
modesty, and so many other virtues, whereby she ought in reason to be
able to converse with everyone and on every theme, still I think that
more than anything else she needs to know that which belongs to
discussions on love. For as every gentle cavalier uses those noble
exercises, elegances and fine manners that we have mentioned, as a means
to win the favour of women, to this end likewise he employs words; and
not only when he is moved by passion, but often also to do honour to the
lady with whom he is speaking, since he thinks that to give signs of
love for her is a proof that she is worthy of it, and that her beauty
and merits are so great that they compel every man to serve her.
“Hence I fain would know how this lady ought to converse on such a theme
discreetly, and how reply to him who loves her truly, and how to him who
makes a false pretence thereof; and whether she ought to feign not to
understand, whether to return his love or to refuse, and how conduct
herself.”
54.—Then my lord Magnifico said:
“It would be needful to teach her first to distinguish those who pretend
to love and those who love truly; then, as to returning love or not, I
think she ought not to be governed by any others’ wish but her own.”
Messer Federico said:
“Then teach her what are the surest and safest signs to discern false
love from true, and with what proof she ought to be content in order to
be sure of the love shown her.”
The Magnifico replied, laughing:
“I know not, for men to-day are so cunning that they make false
pretences without end, and sometimes weep when they have great wish to
laugh; hence it were necessary to send them to Isola Ferma under the
True Lovers’ Arch.[424]
“But to the end that this Lady of mine (of whom it behooves me to take
special care, since she is my creation) may not fall into those errours
wherein I have seen many others fall, I should tell her not to be quick
to believe herself loved, nor act like some who not only do not feign
not to understand when court is paid to them even covertly, but at the
first word accept all the praise that is given them, or decline it with
a certain air that is rather an invitation to love for those with whom
they are speaking, than a refusal.
“Therefore the course of conduct that I wish my Court Lady to pursue in
love talk, will be to refuse always to believe that whoever pays court
to her for that reason loves her: and if the gentleman shall be as pert
as many are, and speak to her with small respect, she will give him such
answer that he may clearly understand he is causing her annoyance.
Again, if he shall be discreet and use modest phrases and words of love
covertly, with that gentle manner which I think the Courtier fashioned
by these gentlemen will employ, the lady will feign not to understand
and will apply his words in another sense, always modestly trying to
change the subject with that skill and prudence which have been said
befit her. If, again, the talk is such that she cannot feign not to
understand, she will take it all as a jest, pretending to be aware that
it is said to her more out of compliment to her than because it is so,
depreciating her merits and ascribing the praises that he gives her to
the gentleman’s courtesy; and in this way she will win a name for
discretion and be safer against deceit.
“After this fashion methinks the Court Lady ought to conduct herself in
love talk.”
55.—Then messer Federico said:
“My lord Magnifico, you discourse of this matter as if everyone who pays
court to women must needs speak lies and seek to deceive them: if the
which were true, I should say that your teachings were sound; but if
this cavalier who is speaking loves truly and feels that passion which
sometimes so sorely afflicts the human heart, do you not consider in
what pain, in what calamity and mortal anguish you put him by insisting
that the lady shall never believe anything he says on this subject?
Ought his supplications, tears, and many other signs to go for naught?
Have a care, my lord Magnifico, lest it be thought that besides the
natural cruelty which many of these ladies have in them, you are
teaching them still more.”
The Magnifico replied:
“I spoke not of him who loves, but of him who entertains with amourous
talk, wherein one of the most necessary conditions is that words shall
never be lacking. But just as true lovers have glowing hearts, so they
have cold tongues, with broken speech and sudden silence; wherefore
perhaps it would not be a false assumption to say: ‘Who loves much,
speaks little.’ Yet as to this I believe no certain rule can be given,
because of the diversity of men’s habits; nor could I say anything more
than that the Lady must be very cautious, and always bear in mind that
men can declare their love with much less danger than women can.”
56.—Then my lord Gaspar said, laughing:
“Would you not, my lord Magnifico, have this admirable Lady of yours
love in return even when she knows that she is loved truly? For if the
Courtier were not loved in return, it is not conceivable that he should
go on loving her; and thus she would lose many advantages, and
especially that service and reverence with which lovers honour and
almost adore the virtue of their beloved.”
“As to that,” replied the Magnifico, “I do not wish to give advice; but
I do say that I think love, as you understand it, is proper only for
unmarried women; for when this love cannot end in marriage, the lady
must always find in it that remorse and sting which things illicit give
her, and run risk of staining that reputation for chastity which is so
important to her.”
Then messer Federico replied, laughing:
“This opinion of yours, my lord Magnifico, seems to me very austere, and
I think you have learned it from some preacher—one of those who rebuke
women for loving laymen, in order to have themselves the better part
therein. And methinks you impose too hard a rule on married women, for
many of them are to be found whose husbands bear them the greatest
hatred without cause, and affront them grievously, sometimes by loving
other women, sometimes by causing them all the annoyances possible to
devise; some against their will are married by their fathers to old men,
infirm, loathsome and disgusting, who make them live in continual
misery. If such women were allowed to be divorced and separated from
those with whom they are ill mated, perhaps it would not be fitting for
them to love any but their husbands; but when, either by enmity of the
stars or by unfitness of temperament or by other accident, it happens
that the marriage bed, which ought to be a nest of concord and of love,
is strewn by the accursed infernal fury with the seed of its venom,
which then brings forth anger, suspicion and the stinging thorns of
hatred to torment those unhappy souls cruelly bound by an unbreakable
chain until death,—why are you unwilling that the woman should be
allowed to seek some refuge from the heavy lash, and to bestow on others
that which is not only spurned but hated by her husband? I am quite of
the opinion that those who have suitable husbands and are loved by them,
ought not to do them wrong; but the others wrong themselves by not
loving those who love them.”
“Nay,” replied the Magnifico, “they wrong themselves by loving others
than their husbands. Still, since not to love is often beyond our power,
if this mischance shall happen to the Court Lady (that her husband’s
hate or another’s love brings her to love), I would have her yield her
lover nothing but her spirit; nor ever let her show him any clear sign
of love (either by words or by gestures or by any other means) by which
he may be sure of it.”
57.—Then messer Roberto da Bari said, laughing:
“I appeal from this judgment of yours, my lord Magnifico, and think I
shall have many with me; but since you will teach married women this
rusticity, so to speak, do you wish also to have the unmarried equally
cruel and discourteous?—and complaisant to their lovers in nothing
whatever?”
“If my Court Lady be unmarried,” replied my lord Magnifico, “and must
love, I wish her to love someone whom she can marry; nor shall I account
it an errour if she shows him some sign of love: as to which matter I
wish to teach her one universal rule in a few words, to the end that she
may with little pains be able to bear it in mind; and this is, let her
show him who loves her every token of love except such as may imbue her
lover’s mind with the hope of obtaining something wanton from her. And
it is necessary to give great heed to this, for it is an errour
committed by countless women, who commonly desire nothing more than to
be beautiful: and since to have many lovers seems to them proof of their
beauty, they take every pain] to get as many as they can. Thus they are
often carried into reckless behaviour, and forsaking that temperate
modesty which so becomes them, they employ certain pert looks with
scurrile words and acts full of immodesty, thinking that they are gladly
seen and listened to for this and that by such ways they make themselves
loved: which is false; for the demonstrations that are made to them
spring from desire excited by a belief in their willingness, not from
love. Wherefore I wish that my Court Lady may not by wanton behaviour
seem to offer herself to anyone who wants her and to do her best to lure
the eyes and appetite of all who look upon her, but that by her merits
and virtuous conduct, by her loveliness, by her grace, she may imbue the
mind of all who see her with that true love which is due to all things
lovable, and with that respect which always deprives him of hope who
thinks of any wantonness.
“Moreover, he who is loved by such a woman ought to content himself with
her every slightest demonstration, and to prize a single loving look
from her more than complete possession of any other woman; and to such a
Lady I should not know how to add anything, unless to have her loved by
so excellent a Courtier as these gentlemen have described, and to have
her love him also, to the end that they may both attain their complete
perfection.”
58.—Having thus far spoken, my lord Magnifico was silent; whereupon my
lord Gaspar said, laughing:
“Now, in sooth, you will not be able to complain that my lord Magnifico
has not described a most excellent Court Lady; and henceforth, if such
an one is found, I admit that she deserves to be esteemed the Courtier’s
equal.”
My lady Emilia replied:
“I engage to find her, provided you will find the Courtier.”
Messer Roberto added:
“Verily it cannot be denied that the Lady described by my lord Magnifico
is most perfect: nevertheless, as to those last conditions of love,
methinks he has made her a little too austere, especially when he would
have her deprive her lover of all hope, by words, gestures and
behaviour, and do all she can to plunge the man in despair. For as
everyone knows, human desires do not spend themselves upon those things
whereof there is not some hope. And although a few women may have indeed
been found, haughty perhaps by reason of their beauty and worth, whose
first word to anyone who paid them court was that he must never expect
to have anything from them that he wished,—yet afterwards they have been
a little more gracious to him in look and manner, so that by their
kindly acts they have somewhat tempered their haughty words. But if this
Lady by acts and words and manner removes all hope, I think our
Courtier, if he is wise, will never love her; and thus she will have the
imperfection of being without a lover.”
59.—Then the Magnifico said:
“I do not wish my Court Lady to remove hope of everything, but only of
wanton things, which (if the Courtier be as courteous and discreet as
these gentlemen have described him) he will not only not hope for, but
will not even wish for. Because if the beauty, behaviour, cleverness,
goodness, knowledge, modesty, and the many other worthy qualities that
we have given the Lady, are the cause of the Courtier’s love for her,
the end of his love will necessarily be worthy too: and if nobility,
excellence in arms and letters and music, if gentleness and the
possession of so many graces in speech and conversation, be the means
whereby the Courtier is to win the lady’s love, the end of that love
must needs be of like quality with the means whereby it is attained.
“Moreover, just as there are divers sorts of beauty in the world, so too
there are divers tastes in men; and thus it happens that when they see a
woman of that serious beauty, which (whether she be going or staying or
joking or jesting or doing what you will) always so tempers her whole
behaviour as to induce a certain reverence in anyone who looks upon
her,—many are abashed and dare not serve her; and lured by hope, they
oftener love attractive and enticing women, so soft and tender as to
display in words and acts and looks a certain languourous passion that
promises easily to pass and be changed into love.
“To be safe against deceits, some men love another sort of women, who
are so free of eye and word and movement as to do the first thing that
comes into their mind with a certain simplicity which does not hide
their thoughts. Nor are there lacking other generous souls,
who—(esteeming that worth is shown in difficulty, and that it would be a
victory most sweet to conquer what to others seems unconquerable), in
order to give proof that their valour is able to force a stubborn mind
and persuade to love even wills that are contrary and recusant
thereto,—readily turn to love the beauties of those women who by eyes
and words and behaviour show more austere severity than the others.
Wherefore these men who are so self-confident, and who account
themselves secure against being deceived, willingly love certain women
also who by cunning and art seem to conceal a thousand wiles with
beauty; or else some others, who along with their beauty have a
coquettishly disdainful manner of few words and few laughs, with almost
an air of prizing little every man who looks upon them or serves them.
“Then there are certain other men who deign to love only those women who
in face and speech and every movement carry all elegance, all gentle
manners, all knowledge, and all the graces heaped together,—like a
single flower composed of all the excellences in the world. Thus if my
Court Lady have a dearth of those loves that spring from evil hope, she
will not on that account be left without a lover; for she will not lack
those loves that spring both from her merits and from her lovers’
confidence in their own worth, whereby they will know themselves to be
worthy of being loved by her.”
60.—Messer Roberto still objected, but my lady Duchess held him in the
wrong, supporting my lord Magnifico’s argument; then she continued:
“We have no cause to complain of my lord Magnifico, for I truly think
that the Court Lady described by him may stand on a par with the
Courtier, and even with some advantage; for he has taught her how to
love, which these gentlemen did not do for their Courtier.”
Then the Unico Aretino said:
“It is very fitting to teach women how to love, for rarely have I seen
any that knew how: since they nearly all accompany their beauty with
cruelty and ingratitude towards those who serve them most faithfully and
deserve the reward of their love by nobility of birth, gentleness and
worth; and then they often give themselves a prey to men who are very
silly, base, and of small account, and who not only love them not, but
hate them.
“So, to avoid such grievous errours as these, perhaps it was well to
teach them first how to make choice of a man who shall deserve to be
loved, and then how to love him; which is not needful in the case of
men, who know it but too well of themselves. And here I can be a good
witness; for love was never taught me save by the divine beauty and
divinest behaviour of a Lady whom it was beyond my power not to adore,
wherein I had no need of art or any master;[425] and I think that the
same happens with all who love truly. Hence it were fitting to teach the
Courtier how to make himself loved rather than how to love.”
61.—Here my lady Emilia said:
“Then discourse of this now, my lord Unico.”
The Unico replied:
“Methinks reason would require that ladies’ favour should be won by
serving and pleasing them; but by what they deem themselves served and
pleased, I think must needs be learned from ladies themselves, who often
desire things so strange that there is no man who would imagine the
same, and sometimes they do not themselves know what they desire. Hence
it is right that you, my Lady, who are a woman and so must surely know
what pleases women, should undertake this task, to do the world so great
a benefit.”
Then my lady Emilia said:
“The very great favour that you always find with women is good proof
that you know all the ways by which their grace is won; hence it is
quite fitting that you should teach them.”
“My Lady,” replied the Unico, “I could give a lover no more useful
warning than to look to it that you have no influence over the lady
whose favour he seeks; for such good qualities as the world once thought
were in me, together with the sincerest love that ever was, have not had
so much power to make me loved as you have to make me hated.”
62.—Then my lady Emilia replied:
“My lord Unico, God forbid that I should even think, much less do,
anything to make you hated; for besides doing what I ought not, I should
be esteemed of little sense for attempting the impossible. But since you
urge me thus to speak of that which pleases women, I will speak; and if
you shall be displeased, blame yourself for it.
“I think, then, that whoever would be loved must love and be lovable;
and that these two things suffice to win women’s favour.
“Now to answer that which you accuse me of, I say that everyone knows
and sees that you are very lovable; but whether you love as sincerely as
you say, I am very much in doubt, and perhaps the others too. For your
being too lovable has brought it to pass that you have been loved by
many women: and great rivers divided into many parts become little
streams; so love, bestowed upon more than one object, has little
strength. But these continual laments of yours, and complaints of
ingratitude in the women you have served (which is not probable, in view
of your great merits), are a certain sort of mystery to hide the
favours, contentments and pleasures attained by you in love, and to
assure the women who love you and have given themselves to you, that you
will not betray them; and hence also they are content that you should
thus openly display feigned love for others to hide their real love for
you. So, if the women whom you now pretend to love are not so ready to
believe it as you would like, the reason is because this artfulness of
yours in love is beginning to be understood, not because I make you
hated.”
63.—Then my lord Unico said:
“I do not wish to try again to confute your words, because I at last
perceive that it is as much my fate not to be believed when I say truth,
as it is yours to be believed when you say untruth.”
“Say rather, my lord Unico,” replied by lady Emilia, “that you do not
love as you would have us believe; for if you loved, all your desire
would be to please your beloved lady and to wish what she wishes,
because this is the law of love; but your thus complaining of her
denotes some deceit, as I said, or indeed gives proof that you wish what
she does not wish.”
“Nay,” said my lord Unico, “indeed I wish what she wishes, which is
proof that I love her; but I complain that she does not wish what I
wish, which is a token that she loves me not, according to that same
rule that you have cited.”
My lady Emilia replied:
“He who begins to love ought also to begin to please his beloved and
bend himself wholly to her wishes, and govern his by hers; and make his
own desires her slaves, and his very soul like unto an obedient
handmaid, nor ever think of aught but to let it be transformed, if
possible, into that of his beloved, and to account this as his highest
happiness; for they do thus who love truly.”
“Assuredly,” said my lord Unico, “my highest happiness would be to have
a single wish rule her soul and mine.”
“It rests with you to have it so,” replied my lady Emilia.
64.—Then messer Bernardo interrupted and said:
“Certain it is that he who loves truly bends all his thoughts to serve
and please the lady of his love, without being shown the way by others;
but as these loving services are sometimes not clearly perceived, I
think that besides loving and serving it is further necessary to make
some other demonstration of his love so evident that the lady cannot
hide her knowledge that she is loved; yet with such modesty withal that
he may not seem to have small respect for her. And since you, my Lady,
began to tell how the lover’s soul must be the obedient handmaid of his
beloved, I pray you explain this secret also, which seems to me very
important.”
Messer Cesare laughed, and said:
“If the lover is so modest that he is ashamed to tell her of his love,
let him write it to her.”
My lady Emilia added:
“Nay, if he is as discreet as becomes him, he ought to be sure of not
offending her before he declares himself to her.”
Then my lord Gaspar said:
“All women like to be sued in love, even though they mean to refuse that
which they are sued for.”
The Magnifico Giuliano replied:
“You are very wrong; nor should I advise the Courtier ever to employ
this method, unless he be certain of not being repulsed.”
65.—“Then what is he to do?” said my lord Gaspar.
The Magnifico continued:
“If he must speak or write, let him do it with such modesty and so
warily that his first words shall try her mind, and shall touch so
ambiguously upon her wish as to leave a way and certain loophole that
may enable her to feign not to see that his discourse imports love, to
the end that he may retreat in case of difficulty and pretend that he
spoke or wrote to some other end, in order to enjoy in safety those
intimate caresses and coquetries that a woman often grants to him who
she thinks accepts them in friendship, and then withholds them as soon
as she finds they are received as demonstrations of love. Hence those
men who are too precipitate and venture thus presumptuously with a kind
of fury and stubbornness, often lose these favours, and deservedly; for
every noble lady regards herself as little esteemed by him who rudely
wooes her before having done her service.
66.—“Therefore in my opinion the way that the Courtier ought to take to
make his love known to the Lady, seems to me to be by showing it to her
in manner rather than in words;—for verily more of love’s affection is
sometimes revealed in a sigh, in reverence, in timidity, than in a
thousand words;—next by making his eyes to be faithful messengers to
bear the embassies of his heart, since they often show the passion that
is within more clearly than the tongue itself or letters or other
couriers: so that they not only disclose thoughts, but often kindle love
in the beloved’s heart. Because those quick spirits that issue from the
eyes, being generated near the heart, enter again by the eyes (whither
they are aimed like an arrow at the mark), and naturally reach the heart
as if it were their abode, and mingling with those other spirits there
and with that subtle quality of blood which they have in them, they
infect the blood near the heart to which they have come, and warm it,
and make it like themselves and ready to receive the impression of that
image which they have brought with them. Travelling thus to and fro over
the road from eyes to heart, and bringing back the tinder and steel of
beauty and grace, little by little these messengers fan with the breath
of desire that fire which glows so ardently and never ceases to burn
because they are always bringing it the fuel of hope to feed on.
“Hence it may be well said that eyes are the guide in love, especially
if they are kind and soft; black, of a bright and gentle blackness, or
blue; merry and laughing, so gracious and keen of glance, like some
wherein the channels that give the spirits egress seem so deep that
through them we can see the very heart. Then the eyes lie in wait, just
as in war soldiers lurk in ambush; and if the form of the whole body is
fair and well proportioned, it attracts and allures anyone who looks
upon it from afar until he approaches, and, as soon as he is near, the
eyes dart forth and bewitch like sorcerers; and especially when they
send out their rays straight to the eyes of the beloved at a moment when
these are doing the same; because the spirits meet, and in that sweet
encounter each receives the other’s quality, as we see in the case of an
eye diseased, which by looking fixedly into a sound one imparts thereto
its own disease. So methinks in this way our Courtier can in great part
manifest his love for his Lady.
“True it is that if the eyes are not governed with skill, they often
most disclose a man’s amourous desires to whom he least would do so; for
through them there shines forth almost visibly that ardent passion which
(while wishing to reveal it only to his beloved) the lover often reveals
also to those from whom he most would hide it. Therefore he who has not
lost the bridle of reason, governs himself cautiously and observes time
and place, and abstains when needful from such intent gazing, sweetest
food though it be; for an open love is too difficult a thing.”
67.—Count Ludovico replied:
“Sometimes even openness does no harm, for in this case men often think
such a love affair is not tending to the end which every lover desires,
seeing that little care is taken to hide it, nor any heed given whether
it be known or not; and so, by not denying it, a man wins a certain
freedom that enables him to speak openly with his beloved and to be with
her without suspicion; which those do not win who try to be secret,
because they seem to hope for and to be near some great reward that they
would not have others discover.
“Moreover I have often seen very ardent love spring up in a woman’s
heart towards a man for whom she had at first not had the least
affection, simply from hearing that many deemed them to be in love; and
I think the reason of this was because such an universal opinion as that
seemed to her sufficient proof to make her believe the man worthy of her
love, and it seemed as if report brought her messages from the lover
much truer and worthier of belief than he himself could have sent by
letters and words, or another for him.
“Thus, this public report not only sometimes does no harm, but helps.”
The Magnifico replied:
“Love affairs that have report for their minister put a man in great
danger of being pointed at with the finger; and hence he who would
travel this road safely, must feign to have less fire within him than he
has, and content himself with that which seems little to him, and
conceal his desires, jealousies, griefs and joys, and often laugh with
his mouth when his heart is weeping, and feign to be prodigal of that
whereof he most is chary; and these things are so difficult to do, that
they are almost impossible. Therefore if our Courtier would follow my
advice, I should exhort him to keep his love affairs secret.”
68.—Then messer Bernardo said:
“There is need, then, for you to teach him how, and methinks it is of no
small importance; for, besides the signals which men sometimes make so
covertly that almost without a motion the person whom they wish reads in
their face and eyes what is in their heart,—I have sometimes heard a
long and free love talk between two lovers, of which, however, those
present could understand clearly no details at all or even be sure that
the talk was about love. And the reason of this lay in the speakers’
discretion and precaution; for without showing any sign of annoyance at
being listened to, they whispered only those words that signified, and
spoke aloud the rest, which could be construed in different senses.”
Then messer Federico said:
“To speak thus minutely about these precautions of secrecy would be a
journey into the infinite; hence I would rather have some little
discussion as to how the lover ought to maintain his lady’s favour,
which seems to me much more necessary.”
69.—The Magnifico replied:
“I think that those means which serve to win it serve also to maintain
it; and all this consists in pleasing the lady of our love without ever
offending her. Wherefore it would be difficult to give any fixed rule
for it; since in countless ways he who is not very discreet sometimes
makes mistakes that seem little and yet grievously offend the lady’s
spirit; and this befalls those, more than others, who are overmastered
by passion: like some who, whenever they have means of speaking to the
lady whom they love, lament and complain so bitterly and often wish for
things that are so impossible, that they become wearisome by their very
importunity. Others, when they are stung by any jealousy, allow
themselves to be so carried away by their grief that they heedlessly run
into speaking evil of him whom they suspect, and sometimes without fault
either on his part or on the lady’s, and insist that she shall not speak
to him or even turn her eyes in the direction where he is. And by this
behaviour they often not only offend the lady, but are the cause that
leads her to love the man: because the fear that lovers sometimes
display lest their lady forsake them for another, shows that they are
conscious of being inferior to him in merits and worth, and with this
idea the lady is moved to love him, and perceiving that evil is said of
him to put him out of favour, she believes it not although it be true,
and loves him all the more.”
70.—Then messer Cesare said, laughing:
“I own I am not so wise that I could abstain from speaking evil of my
rival, except you were to teach me some other better means of ruining
him.”
My lord Magnifico replied, laughing:
“There is a proverb which says that when our enemy is in the water up to
the belt, we must offer him our hand and lift him out of peril; but when
he is in up to the chin, we must set our foot on his head and drown him
outright. Thus there are some who do this with their rival, and as long
as they have no safe way of ruining him, go about dissimulating and
pretend to be rather his friend than otherwise; then if an opportunity
offers—such that they know they can overwhelm him with certain ruin by
saying all manner of evil of him (whether it be true or false),—they do
it without mercy, with craft, deception and all the means they know how
to invent.
“But since it would never please me to have our Courtier use any deceit,
I would have him deprive his rival of the lady’s favour by no other
craft than by loving and serving her, and by being worthy, valiant,
discreet and modest; in short, by deserving her better than his rival,
and by being in all things wary and prudent, abstaining from all stupid
follies, wherein many dunces fall and in diverse ways. For in the past I
have known some who use Poliphilian words in writing and speaking to
women,[426] and so insist upon the niceties of rhetoric, that the women
are diffident of themselves and account themselves very ignorant, and
think each hour of such discourse a thousand years, and rise before the
end. Others are immoderately boastful. Others often say things that
redound to their own discredit and damage, like some I am wont to laugh
at, who profess to be in love and sometimes say in the presence of
women: ‘I have never found a woman to love me;’ and they do not perceive
that those who hear them at once conclude that this can arise from no
other reason than that they deserve neither love nor the water they
drink, and hold them for men of slight account, and would not love them
for all the gold in the world, thinking that to love them would be to
stand lower than all the other women who loved them not.
“Still others are so silly that for the purpose of bringing odium upon
some rival of theirs, they say in the presence of women: ‘So and So is
the luckiest man on earth; for although he is not at all handsome,
discreet or valiant, and cannot do or say more than the rest, yet all
the women love him and run after him;’ and thus showing themselves to be
envious of the man’s good luck, they incite belief that (although he
shows himself to be lovable in neither looks nor acts) he has in him
some hidden quality for which he deserves so many women’s love; hence
those who hear him thus spoken of are by this belief even much more
moved to love him.”
71.—Then Count Ludovico laughed, and said:
“I assure you that the discreet Courtier will never use these
stupidities to win favour with women.”
Messer Cesare Gonzaga replied:
“Nor yet that one which was used in my time by a gentleman of great
repute, whose name for the honour of men I will not mention.”
My lady Duchess replied:
“At least tell what he did.”
Messer Cesare continued:
“Being loved by a great lady, at her request he came secretly to the
place where she was; and after he had seen her and conversed with her as
long as she and the time allowed, taking his leave with many bitter
tears and sighs, in token of the extreme sorrow that he felt at such a
parting, he besought her to keep him continually in mind; and then he
added that she ought to pay his board and lodging, for as he had been
invited by her, it seemed to him reasonable that he should be at no
charge for his coming.”
Then all the ladies began to laugh and to say that he was quite unworthy
to be called a gentleman; and many of the men were ashamed, with that
shame which the man himself would have rightly felt if he had at any
time found wit enough to be conscious of such a shameful fault.
My lord Gaspar then turned to messer Cesare, and said:
“It was better to refrain from telling this thing for the honour of
women, than to refrain for the honour of men from naming him; for you
can well imagine what good judgment that great lady had in loving such a
senseless animal, and also that of the many who served her perhaps she
had chosen this one as the most discreet, forsaking and misliking men
whose lackey he was unworthy to be.”
Count Ludovico laughed, and said:
“Who knows that he was not discreet in other things, and failed only as
to board and lodging? But many times men commit great follies in their
excessive love; and if you will say the truth, perhaps it has befallen
you to commit more than one.”
72.—Messer Cesare replied, laughing:
“By your faith, do not expose our errours.”
“Nay, it is necessary to expose them,” replied my lord Gaspar, “in order
that we may know how to correct them;” then he added: “My lord
Magnifico, now that the Courtier knows how to win and maintain his
lady’s favour and to deprive his rival of it, you must teach him how to
keep his love affairs secret.”
The Magnifico replied:
“Methinks I have said enough; so now choose someone else to speak of
this secrecy.”
Then messer Bernardo and all the others began to urge him anew; and the
Magnifico said, laughing:
“You wish to tempt me. All of you are too well practised in love: yet if
you would know more, go read it in Ovid.”
“And how,” said messer Bernardo, “should I hope that his precepts are of
any service in love, when he recommends and says it is a very good thing
that a man should pretend to be drunk in the presence of the
beloved?[427] See what a fine way of winning favour! And he cites as a
fine method of making one’s love known to a lady at a banquet, to dip a
finger in wine and write it on the table.”[428]
The Magnifico replied, laughing:
“In those days it was not amiss.”
“And therefore,” said messer Bernardo, “since such a filthy trick as
this was not offensive to the men of that time, we may believe that they
did not have so gentle a manner of serving women in love as we have. But
let us not forsake our first subject, of teaching how to keep love
secret.”
73.—Then the Magnifico said:
“In my opinion, in order to keep love secret it is needful to avoid the
causes that make it public, which are many; but there is one chief
cause, which is the wish to be too secret and not trust any person
whatever. For every lover desires to make his passion known to his
beloved, and being alone he is forced to make many more and stronger
demonstrations than if he were aided by some loving and faithful friend;
because the demonstrations that the lover himself makes arouse much
greater suspicion than those he makes through intermediaries. And since
the human mind is naturally curious to find things out, as soon as a
stranger begins to suspect, he employs such diligence that he learns the
truth, and having learned it, makes no scruple to publish it—nay,
sometimes delights to do so; which is not the case with a friend, who
besides helping with comfort and advice, often repairs those mistakes
which the blind lover commits, and always contrives secrecy and provides
for many things for which he himself cannot provide. Moreover very great
relief is felt in telling our passion and unburdening it to a trusty
friend, and likewise it greatly enhances our joys to be able to impart
them.”
74.—Then my lord Gaspar said:
“Another cause discloses love more than this.”
“And what is it?” replied the Magnifico.
My lord Gaspar continued:
“The vain ambition joined with madness and cruelty of women; who, as you
yourself have said, try to have as great a number of lovers as they can,
and if it were possible would have all of these burn and (once made
ashes) after death return alive to die once more. And even although they
be in love, still they delight in their lover’s torment, because they
think that pain and afflictions and continual calling for death give
good proof that they are loved, and can, by their beauty, make men
wretched and happy, and bestow death and life, as they please. Hence
they feed only on this food, and are so eager for it that (in order not
to be without it) they do not satisfy or ever quite dishearten their
lovers; but to keep these continually in anguish and desire, they use a
certain domineering severity of threats mingled with encouragement, and
fain would have a word, a look, a nod of theirs esteemed as highest
bliss. And to be deemed modest and chaste, not only by their lovers but
by all the rest, they take care to make their harsh and discourteous
behaviour public, to the end that everyone may think that if they thus
maltreat those who are worthy to be loved, they must treat the unworthy
much worse.
“And in this belief, thinking they thus have artfully made themselves
secure against infamy, they often spend every night with vilest men whom
they scarcely know; and so, to enjoy the calamities and continual
laments of some noble cavalier whom they love, they deny themselves
those pleasures which they might perhaps attain with some excuse; and
they are the cause that forces the poor lover in sheer desperation to
behaviour which brings to light that which every care ought to be taken
to keep most secret.
“Some others there are, who, if by trickery they succeed in leading many
a man to think himself loved by them, nourish the jealousy of each by
bestowing caresses and favour on one in the presence of another; and
when they see that he too whom they most love is nearly sure of being
loved because of the demonstrations shown him, they often put him in
suspense by ambiguous words and pretended anger, and pierce his heart,
feigning to care nothing for him and to wish to give themselves wholly
to another; whence arise hatreds, enmities and countless scandals and
manifest ruin, for in such a case a man must show the passion that he
feels, even though it result in blame and infamy to the lady.
“Others, not content with this single torment of jealousy, after the
lover has given all proofs of love and faithful service, and after they
have received the same with some sign of returning it with good will,
they begin to draw back without cause and when it is least expected, and
pretend to believe that he has grown lukewarm, and feigning new
suspicions that they are not loved, they give sign of wishing to break
with him absolutely. And so, because of these obstacles, the poor fellow
is by very force compelled to go back to the start and pay court as if
his service were beginning; and daily to walk the earth, and when the
lady stirs abroad to accompany her to church and everywhere she goes,
never to turn his eyes another way: and now he returns to plaints and
sighs and heaviness of heart, and if he can speak with her, to
supplications, blasphemies, despairings, and all those ragings to which
unhappy lovers are put by these fierce monsters, who have a greater
thirst for blood than tigers have.
75.—“Such woeful demonstrations as these are but too much seen and
known, and often more by others than by her who occasions them; and thus
in a few days they become so public that not a step can be taken, nor
the least signal given, that is not noted by a thousand eyes. Then it
happens that long before there are any sweets of love between them, they
are believed and judged by all the world; for when women see that the
lover, now nigh to death and overwhelmed by the cruelty and tortures
inflicted on him, is firmly and really resolving to withdraw, they at
once begin to show him that they love him heartily, and to do him all
manner of kindness, and to yield to him, to the end that (his ardent
desire having failed) the fruits of love may be less sweet to him and he
may have less to thank them for, in order to do everything amiss.
“And their love being now very well known, at the same time all the
results that proceed from it are also very well known; thus the women
are dishonoured, and the lover finds that he has lost time and pains and
has shortened his life in sorrows, without the least advantage or
pleasure; for he attained his desires, not when they would have made him
very happy with their pleasantness, but when he cared little or nothing
for them, because his heart was already so deadened by his cruel passion
that it had no feeling left wherewith to enjoy the delight or
contentment which was offered him.”
76.—Then my lord Ottaviano said, laughing:
“You held your peace awhile and refrained from saying evil of women;
then you hit them so hard that it seems as if you were gathering
strength, like those who draw back in order to strike the harder; and
verily you are in the wrong and ought henceforth to be gentler.”
My lady Emilia laughed, and turning to my lady Duchess, said:
“You see, my Lady, that our adversaries are beginning to quarrel and
differ among themselves.”
“Call me not so,” replied my lord Ottaviano, “for I am not your
adversary. This contest has displeased me much, not because I was sorry
to see the victory in favour of women, but because it has led my lord
Gaspar to revile them more than he ought, and my lord Magnifico and
messer Cesare to praise them perhaps a little more than their due;
besides which, owing to the length of the discussion, we have missed
hearing many other fine things that remained to say about the Courtier.”
“You see,” said my lady Emilia, “that you are our adversary after all;
and for that reason you are displeased with the late discussion, and
fain would not have had so excellent a Court Lady described; not because
you had anything more to say about the Courtier (for these gentlemen
have said all they knew, and I think that neither you nor anyone else
could add anything whatever), but because of the envy that you have of
women’s honour.”
77.—“Certain it is,” replied my lord Ottaviano, “that besides the things
that have been said about the Courtier, I should like to hear many
others. Still, since everyone is content to have him as he is, I also am
content; nor should I change him in aught else, unless in making him a
little more friendly to women than my lord Gaspar is, albeit perhaps not
so much so as some of these other gentlemen.”
Then my lady Duchess said:
“By all means we must see whether your talents are so great that they
can give the Courtier greater perfection than these gentlemen have given
him. So please to say what you have in mind: else we shall think that
even you cannot add anything to what has been said, but that you wished
to detract from the praises of the Court Lady because you think her the
equal of the Courtier, who you would therefore have us believe could be
much more perfect than these gentlemen have described him.”
My lord Ottaviano laughed, and said:
“The praise and censure that have been bestowed on women beyond their
due have so filled the ears and mind of the company as to leave no room
for anything else to lodge; besides this, in my opinion the hour is very
late.”
“Then,” said my lady Duchess, “we shall have more time by waiting till
to-morrow; and meanwhile this praise and censure, which you say have
been on both sides bestowed excessively on women, will leave these
gentlemen’s minds, and thus they will better appreciate that truth which
you will tell them.”
So saying, my lady Duchess rose to her feet, and courteously dismissing
the company, retired to her more private room, and everyone went to
rest.
THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE COURTIER
BY COUNT BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE
TO MESSER ALFONSO ARIOSTO
1.—Thinking to write out the discussions that were held on the fourth
evening, after those mentioned in the previous Books, among various
reflections I feel one bitter thought that strikes my heart, and makes
me mindful of human miseries and our deceptive hopes: and how fortune,
often in mid-course and sometimes near the end, shatters our frail and
vain designs, and sometimes wrecks them before the haven can be even
seen afar.
Thus I recall that not long after these discussions took place,
importunate death deprived our court of three very rare gentlemen while
they were in the flower of robust health and hope of honour. And of
these the first was my lord Gaspar Pallavicino, who being assailed by an
acute disease and more than once brought low, although his courage was
of such vigour that for a season it held spirit and body together in
spite of death, yet ended his natural course far before his time;[429] a
very great loss not only to our court and to his friends and family, but
to his native land and to all Lombardy.
Not long afterwards died messer Cesare Gonzaga, who to all those who had
acquaintance with him left a bitter and painful memory of his
death;[430] for since nature produces such men as rarely as she does, it
seemed only fitting that she should not so soon deprive us of this one:
because it certainly may be said that messer Cesare was carried off just
when he was beginning to give something more than promise of himself,
and to be esteemed as his admirable qualities deserved; for already, by
many meritorious efforts he had given good proof of his worth, which
shone forth not only in noble birth, but also in the ornament of letters
and of arms, and in every kind of laudable behaviour; so that, by reason
of his goodness, capacity, courage and wisdom, there was nothing so
great that it might not be expected from him.
No long time passed before the death of messer Roberto da Bari also
inflicted deep sorrow upon the whole court;[48] for it seemed reasonable
that everyone should lament the death of a youth of good behaviour,
agreeable, fair of aspect, and of very rare personal grace, and of as
stout and sturdy temper as could be wished.
2.—If, then, these men had lived, I think they would have reached such
eminence that they would have been able to give everyone who knew them
clear proof how worthy the court of Urbino was of praise, and how
adorned with noble cavaliers; which nearly all the others have done who
were reared there. For verily the Trojan Horse did not send forth so
many lords and captains as this court has sent forth men singular in
worth and most highly prized by everyone. Thus, as you know, messer
Federico Fregoso was made Archbishop of Salerno; Count Ludovico, Bishop
of Bayeux; my lord Ottaviano, Doge of Genoa; messer Bernardo Bibbiena,
Cardinal of Santa Maria in Portico; messer Pietro Bembo, secretary to
Pope Leo; my lord Magnifico rose to the dukedom of Nemours and to that
greatness where he now is. My lord Francesco Maria della Rovere also,
Prefect of Rome, was made Duke of Urbino:[431] albeit much higher praise
may be accorded to the court where he was nurtured, because he there
became a rare and excellent lord in every quality of worth, as we now
see, than because he attained the dukedom of Urbino; nor do I believe
that a small cause of this was the noble company in whose daily converse
he always saw and heard laudable behaviour.
However, it seems to me that the cause, whether chance or favour of the
stars, which has so long granted excellent lords to Urbino, still
continues and produces the same results; and hence we may hope that fair
fortune must further so bless these good works, that the welfare of the
house and state shall not only not wane but rather wax from day to day:
and of this many bright auguries are already to be seen, among which I
esteem the chief to be Heaven’s bestowal of such a mistress as is my
lady Eleanora Gonzaga, the new Duchess;[432] for if ever in a single
body there were joined wisdom, grace, beauty, capacity, tact, humanity,
and every other gentle quality,—in her they are so united that they form
a chain which completes and adorns her every movement with all these
qualities at once.
[Illustration:
ELEANORA GONZAGA
DUCHESS OF URBINO
1492-1543
]
Reduced from the central part of Braun’s photograph (no. 34.106) of the
picture _Das Mädchen im Pelz_, in the Imperial Museum at Vienna, by
Titian (1477-1576).
Let us now continue the discussion about our Courtier, in the hope that
after us there ought to be no lack of those who will find bright and
honoured examples of worth in the present court of Urbino, just as we
now do in that of bygone times.
3.—It seemed, then, as my lord Gaspar Pallavicino used to relate, that
the following day after the discussions contained in the preceding Book,
little was seen of my lord Ottaviano; hence many thought that he had
retired in order that he might without hindrance think carefully of what
he had to say. Thus, the company having betaken themselves to my lady
Duchess at the accustomed hour, search had to be made far and wide for
my lord Ottaviano, who did not appear for a good space; so that many
cavaliers and maids of honour of the court began to dance and engage in
other pastimes, thinking that for that evening there would be no more
talk about the Courtier. And indeed all were busied, some with one thing
and some with another, when my lord Ottaviano arrived, after he had
almost been given up; and seeing that messer Cesare Gonzaga and my lord
Gaspar were dancing, he bowed to my lady Duchess and said, laughing:
“I quite expected to hear my lord Gaspar say some evil about women again
this evening; but seeing him dance with one, I think that he has made
his peace with all of them; and I am glad that the dispute (or rather
the discussion) about the Courtier has ended thus.”
“It is by no means ended,” replied my lady Duchess; “for I am no such
enemy of men as you are of women, and therefore I am unwilling that the
Courtier should be deprived of his due honour, and of those ornaments
that you promised him last evening;” and so saying, she directed that as
soon as the dance was finished, everyone should sit down in the usual
order, which was done; and when all were giving close attention, my lord
Ottaviano said:
“My Lady, since my wish to have the Courtier possess many other good
qualities is taken as a promise to tell what they are, I am content to
speak about them, not with any hope of saying all that might be said,
but merely enough to clear your mind of the charge that was made against
me last evening, to wit: that I spoke as I did rather for the purpose of
detracting from the Court Lady’s praises (by raising a false belief that
other excellences can be ascribed to the Courtier, and by thus artfully
making him her superior), than because what I said was true. Wherefore,
to adapt myself to the hour, which is later than it is wont to be when
we begin our discussions, I shall be brief.
4.—“So, to pursue these gentlemen’s discourse, which I wholly approve
and confirm, I say that of the things that we call good, there are some
which simply and in themselves are always good, like temperance,
fortitude, health, and all the virtues that bestow tranquillity upon the
mind; others, which are good in various respects and for the object to
which they tend, like law, liberality, riches, and other like things.
Hence I think that the perfect Courtier, such as Count Ludovico and
messer Federico have described, may be a truly good thing and worthy of
praise, not however simply and in himself, but in respect to the end to
which he may be directed. For indeed if by being nobly born, graceful,
agreeable, and expert in so many exercises, the Courtier brought forth
no other fruit than merely being what he is, I should not deem it right
for a man to devote so much study and pains to acquiring this perfection
of Courtiership, as anyone must who wishes to attain it. Nay, I should
say that many of those accomplishments that have been ascribed to him
(like dancing, merry-making, singing and playing) were follies and
vanities, and in a man of rank worthy rather of censure than of praise:
for these elegances, devices, mottoes, and other like things that
pertain to discourse about women and love, although perhaps many other
men think the contrary, often serve only to effeminate the mind, to
corrupt youth, and to reduce it to great wantonness of living; whence
then it comes to pass that the Italian name is brought into opprobrium,
and but few are to be found who dare, I will not say to die, but even to
run into danger.
“And surely there are countless other things, which, if industry and
study were spent upon them, would be of much greater utility in both
peace and war than this kind of Courtiership in itself merely; but if
the Courtier’s actions are directed to that good end to which they
ought, and which I have in mind, methinks they are not only not harmful
or vain, but very useful and deserving of infinite praise.
5.—“I think then that the aim of the perfect Courtier, which has not
been spoken of till now, is so to win for himself, by means of the
accomplishments ascribed to him by these gentlemen, the favour and mind
of the prince whom he serves, that he may be able to say, and always
shall say, the truth about everything which it is fitting for the prince
to know, without fear or risk of giving offence thereby; and that when
he sees his prince’s mind inclined to do something wrong, he may be
quick to oppose, and gently to make use of the favour acquired by his
good accomplishments, so as to banish every bad intent and lead his
prince into the path of virtue. And thus, possessing the goodness which
these gentlemen have described, together with readiness of wit and
pleasantness, and shrewdness and knowledge of letters and many other
things,—the Courtier will in every case be able deftly to show the
prince how much honour and profit accrue to him and his from justice,
liberality, magnanimity, gentleness, and the other virtues that become a
good prince; and on the other hand how much infamy and loss proceed from
the vices opposed to them. Therefore I think that just as music,
festivals, games, and the other pleasant accomplishments are as it were
the flower, in like manner to lead or help one’s prince towards right,
and to frighten him from wrong, are the true fruit of Courtiership.
“And since the merit of well-doing lies chiefly in two things, one of
which is the choice of an end for our intentions that shall be truly
good, and the other ability to find means suitable and fitting to
conduce to that good end marked out,—certain it is that that man’s mind
tends to the best end, who purposes to see to it that his prince shall
be deceived by no one, shall hearken not to flatterers or to slanderers
and liars, and shall distinguish good and evil, and love the one and
hate the other.
6.—“Methinks, too, that the accomplishments ascribed to the Courtier by
these gentlemen may be a good means of arriving at that end; and this
because among the many faults which to-day we see in many of our
princes, the greatest are ignorance and self-esteem. And the root of
these two evils is none other than falsehood: which vice is deservedly
hateful to God and to men, and more injurious to princes than any other;
because they have greatest lack of that whereof they most need to have
abundance—I mean of someone to tell them the truth and to put them in
mind of what is right: for their enemies are not moved by love to
perform these offices, but are well pleased to have them live wickedly
and never correct themselves; on the other hand, their enemies dare not
accuse them openly, for fear of being punished. Then of their friends
there are few who have free access to them, and those few are chary of
censuring them for their errours as freely as in the case of private
persons, and to win grace and favour often think of nothing but how to
suggest things that may delight and please their fancy, although the
same be evil and dishonourable; thus from being friends these men become
flatterers, and to derive profit from their intimacy, always speak and
act complaisantly, and for the most part make their way by means of
falsehoods, which beget ignorance in the prince’s mind, not only of
outward things but of himself; and this may be said to be the greatest
and most monstrous falsehood of all, for the ignorant mind deceives
itself and lies inwardly to itself.
7.—“From this it follows that, besides never hearing the truth about
anything whatever, rulers are intoxicated by that licence which dominion
carries with it, and by the abundance of their enjoyments are drowned in
pleasures, and so deceive themselves and have their minds so
corrupted,—always finding themselves obeyed and almost adored with such
reverence and praise, without the least censure or even
contradiction,—that from this ignorance they pass to boundless
self-esteem, so that they then brook no advice or persuasion from
others. And since they think that to know how to rule is a very easy
thing, and that to succeed therein they need no other art or training
than mere force, they bend their mind and all their thoughts to the
maintenance of that power which they have, esteeming that true felicity
lies in being able to do what one likes.
“Therefore some princes hate reason and justice, thinking that it would
be a kind of bridle and a means of reducing them to bondage, and of
lessening the pleasure and satisfaction which they have in ruling, if
they were willing to follow it; and that their dominion would not be
perfect or complete if they were constrained to obey duty and honour,
because they think that he who obeys is no true ruler. Therefore,
following these principles and allowing themselves to be transported by
self-esteem, they become arrogant, with haughty looks and stern
behaviour, with splendid dress, gold and gems, and by letting themselves
be almost never seen in public they think to win authority among men and
to be held almost as gods. And to my thinking they are like the colossi
that last year were made at Rome the day of the festival in the Piazza
d’Agone,[433] which outwardly showed a likeness to great men and horses
in a triumph, and within were full of tow and rags. But princes of this
sort are much worse, in that the colossi keep upright merely by their
great weight; while the princes, since they are ill balanced within and
placed haphazard on uneven bases, fall to their ruin by reason of their
own weight, and from one errour run into many; for their ignorance,
together with the false belief that they cannot err and that the power
which they have proceeds from their own wisdom, leads them to seize
states boldly by fair means or foul, whenever they can.
8.—“But if they were resolved to know and to do that which they ought,
they would be as set on not ruling as they are set on ruling; for they
would perceive how monstrous and pernicious a thing it is when subjects,
who are to be governed, are wiser than the princes who are to govern.
“You see that ignorance of music, of dancing, of horsemanship, is not
harmful to any man; nevertheless, he who is no musician is ashamed and
dares not sing in the presence of others, or dance if he knows not how,
or ride if he has not a good seat. But from not knowing how to govern
people there spring so many woes, deaths, destructions, burnings,
ruins,—that it may be said to be the deadliest pest that is to be found
on earth. And yet some princes who are very ignorant of government are
not ashamed to undertake to govern, I will not say in the presence of
four or of six men, but before all the world, for their rank is set so
high that all eyes gaze on them, and hence not only their great but
their least defects are always noted. Thus it is written that Cimon was
accused of loving wine, Scipio of loving sleep, Lucullus of loving
feasts.[434] But would to God that the princes of our time might couple
their sins with as many virtues as did those ancients; who, although
they erred in some respects, yet did not avoid the reminders and advice
of anyone who seemed to them competent to correct those errours, but
rather sought with all solicitude to order their lives after the
precepts of excellent men: as Epaminondas after that of Lysis the
Pythagorean,[435] Agesilaus after that of Xenophon, Scipio after that of
Panætius, and countless others.[436]
“But if some of our princes were to happen upon a stern philosopher or
any man who was willing openly and artlessly to show them the frightful
face of true virtue, and to teach them what good behaviour is and what a
good prince’s life ought to be, I am certain that they would loathe him
like an asp, or in sooth deride him as a thing most vile.
9.—“I say, then, that since princes are to-day so corrupted by evil
customs and by ignorance and mistaken self-esteem, and since it is so
difficult to give them knowledge of the truth and lead them on to
virtue, and since men seek to enter into their favour by lies and
flatteries and such vicious means,—the Courtier, by the aid of those
gentle qualities that Count Ludovico and messer Federico have given him,
can with ease and should try to gain the good will and so charm the mind
of his prince, that he shall win free and safe indulgence to speak of
everything without being irksome. And if he be such as has been said, he
will accomplish this with little trouble, and thus be able always to
disclose the truth about all things with ease; and also to instil
goodness into his prince’s mind little by little, and to teach
continence, fortitude, justice, temperance, by giving a taste of how
much sweetness is hidden by the little bitterness that at first sight
appears to him who withstands vice; which is always hurtful and
displeasing, and accompanied by infamy and blame, just as virtue is
profitable, blithe and full of praise. And thereto he will be able to
incite his prince by the example of the famous captains and other
eminent men to whom the ancients were wont to make statues of bronze and
of marble and sometimes of gold, and to erect the same in public places,
both for the honour of these men and as a stimulus to others, so that
they might be led by worthy emulation to strive to reach that glory too.
10.—“In this way the Courtier will be able to lead his prince along the
thorny path of virtue, decking it as with shady leafage and strewing it
with lovely flowers to relieve the tedium of the weary journey to one
whose strength is slight; and now with music, now with arms and horses,
now with verses, now with love talk, and with all those means whereof
these gentlemen have told, to keep his mind continually busied with
worthy pleasures, yet always impressing upon him also, as I have said,
some virtuous practice along with these allurements, and playing upon
him with salutary craft; like cunning doctors, who often anoint the edge
of the cup with a sweet cordial, when they wish to give some
bitter-tasting medicine to sick and over-delicate children.
“If, therefore, the Courtier put the veil of pleasure to such a use, he
will reach his aim in every time and place and exercise, and will
deserve much greater praise and reward than for any other good work that
he could do in the world. For there is no good thing that is of such
universal advantage as a good prince, nor any evil so universally
noxious as a bad prince: hence, too, there is no punishment so harsh and
cruel as to be a sufficient penalty for those wicked courtiers who use
their gentle and pleasant ways and fine accomplishments to a bad end,
and therewith seek their prince’s favour, in order to corrupt him and
entice him from the path of virtue and lead him into vice; for such as
these may be said to taint with deadly poison not a single cup from
which one man alone must drink, but the public fountain used by all
men.”
11.—My lord Ottaviano was silent, as if he did not wish to say more; but
my lord Gaspar said:
“It does not seem to me, my lord Ottaviano, that this right-mindedness
and continence, and the other virtues which you wish the Courtier to
show his lord, can be learned; but I think that the men who have them
are given them by nature and by God. And that this is true, you see that
there is no man in the world so wicked and ill conditioned, or so
intemperate and perverse, as to confess that he is so when he is asked;
nay, everyone, however wicked he be, has pleasure in being deemed just,
continent and good: which would not be the case if these virtues could
be learned; for it is no disgrace not to know that to which one has
given no study, but it seems a reproach indeed not to have that
wherewith we ought to be adorned by nature. Hence everyone tries to hide
his natural defects both of mind and of body too; which is seen in the
blind, the halt and the crooked, and in others who are maimed or ugly;
for although these imperfections may be ascribed to nature, still
everyone dislikes to be sensible of them in himself, because he seems by
nature’s own testimony to have that defect as it were for a seal and
token of his wickedness.
“Moreover my opinion is confirmed by that story which is told of
Epimetheus, who knew so ill how to distribute the gifts of nature among
men that he left them much poorer in everything than all other
creatures: wherefore Prometheus stole from Minerva and from Vulcan that
artful cunning whereby men find the means of living;[437] but still they
did not have the civic cunning to gather together in cities and live
orderly lives, for this was guarded in Jove’s castle by very watchful
warders, who so frightened Prometheus that he dared not approach them;
wherefore Jove had compassion for the misery of men, who were torn by
wild beasts because they could not stand together for lack of civic
faculty, and sent Mercury to earth to bring them justice and shame, to
the end that these two things might adorn their cities and unite the
citizens. And he saw fit that they should not be given to men like the
other arts, wherein one expert suffices for many ignorant (as in the
case of medicine), but that they should be impressed upon each man; and
he ordained a law that all who were without justice and shame should be
exterminated and put to death like public pests. So you see, my lord
Ottaviano, that these virtues are vouchsafed by God to men, and are not
acquired, but natural.”
12.—Then my lord Ottaviano said, smiling:
“Do you then insist, my lord Gaspar, that men are so unhappy and
perverse, that they have by industry discovered an art to tame the
natures of wild beasts, bears, wolves, lions, and by it are able to
teach a pretty bird to fly whither they like, and to return willingly
from its woods and natural freedom to cages and captivity,—and yet that
they cannot or will not by the same industry find arts to help
themselves and improve their minds with diligence and study? To my
thinking this would be as if physicians were to study with all diligence
to acquire the mere art of healing sore nails and scurf in children, and
were to leave off curing fevers, pleurisy and other serious maladies;
and how out of all reason this would be, everyone can consider.
“Therefore I think that the moral virtues are not in us by nature
wholly, for nothing can ever become used to that which is naturally
contrary to it; as we see in the case of a stone, which although it were
thrown upwards ten thousand times would never become used to move
thither of itself; hence if virtue were as natural to us as weight is to
the stone, we should never become used to vice. Nor, on the other hand,
are the vices natural in this sense, for we should never be able to be
virtuous; and it would be too unfair and foolish to chastise men for
those defects that proceed from nature without our fault; and this
errour would be committed by the law, which does not inflict punishment
upon malefactors on account of their past errour (since what is done can
not be undone), but has regard to the future, to the end that he who has
erred may err no more nor be the cause of others erring through his bad
example. And thus the law presumes that the virtues can be learned,
which is very true; for we are born capable of receiving them and the
vices also, and hence custom creates in us the habit of both the one and
the other, so that we first practise virtue or vice, and then are
virtuous or vicious.
“The contrary is observed in things that are bestowed by nature, which
we first have the power to practise and then do practise: as is the case
with the senses; for first we are able to see, hear and touch, then we
see, hear and touch, although also many of these functions are perfected
by training. Wherefore good masters teach children not only letters, but
also good and seemly manners in eating, drinking, speaking and walking,
with certain appropriate gestures.
13.—“Therefore as in the other arts, so too in virtue it is necessary to
have a master, who by instruction and good reminders shall arouse and
awake in us those moral virtues whereof we have the seed enclosed and
buried in our soul, and like a good husbandman shall cultivate them and
open the way for them by freeing us from the thorns and tares of
appetite, which often so overshadow and choke our minds as not to let
them blossom or bring forth those happy fruits which alone we should
desire to have spring up in the human heart.
“In this sense, then, justice and shame, which you say Jove sent upon
earth to all men, are natural in each one of us. But just as a body
without eyes, however strong it be, often fails if it moves towards any
object, so the root of these virtues potentially engendered in our minds
often comes to naught if it be not helped by cultivation. For if it is
to ripen into action and perfect character, nature alone is not enough,
as has been said, but there is need of studied practice and of reason,
to purify and clear the soul by lifting the dark veil of ignorance, from
which nearly all the errours of men proceed,—because if good and evil
were well perceived and understood, everyone would always prefer good
and shun evil. Thus virtue may almost be said to be a kind of prudence
and wit to prefer the good, and vice a kind of imprudence and ignorance
which lead us to judge falsely; for men never prefer evil deeming it to
be evil, but are deceived by a certain likeness that it bears to good.”
14.—Then my lord Gaspar replied:
“There are, however, many who know well that they are doing evil, and
yet do it; and this because they have more thought for the present
pleasure which they feel, than for the chastisement which they fear must
come upon them: like thieves, homicides, and other such men.”
My lord Ottaviano said:
“True pleasure is always good, and true suffering always evil; therefore
these men deceive themselves in taking false pleasure for true, and true
suffering for false; hence by false pleasures they often run into true
sufferings. Therefore that art which teaches how to discern the true
from the false, may well be learned; and the faculty whereby we choose
that which is truly good and not that which falsely seems so, may be
called true wisdom and more profitable to human life than any other,
because it dispels the ignorance from which, as I have said, all evils
spring.”
15.—Then messer Pietro Bembo said:
“I do not know, my lord Ottaviano, whether my lord Gaspar ought to grant
you that all evils spring from ignorance; and that there are not many
who well know that they are sinning when they sin, and do not in the
least deceive themselves as to true pleasure, nor yet as to true
suffering. For it is certain that those who are incontinent judge
reasonably and rightly, and know that to be evil to which they are
prompted by their lusts in spite of duty, and therefore resist and set
reason against appetite, whence arises a conflict of pleasure and pain
against judgment. Conquered at last by too potent appetite, reason
yields, like a ship which resists awhile the buffetings of the sea, but
finally beaten by the too furious violence of the gale, with anchor and
rigging broken, suffers herself to be driven at fortune’s will, without
use of helm or any guidance of compass to save her.
“Therefore the incontinent commit their errours with a certain doubtful
remorse, and as it were in their own despite; which they would not do if
they did not know that what they are doing is evil, but would follow
appetite without restraint of reason and wholly uncontrolled, and would
then be not incontinent but intemperate, which is much worse. Thus
incontinence is said to be a diminished vice, because it has a grain of
reason in it; and likewise continence is said to be an imperfect virtue,
because it has a grain of passion in it. Therefore in this, methinks, we
cannot say that the errours of the incontinent proceed from ignorance,
or that they deceive themselves and that they do not sin, when they well
know that they are sinning.”
16.—My lord Ottaviano replied:
“In truth, messer Pietro, your argument is fine; yet to my thinking it
is specious rather than sound, for although the incontinent sin
hesitatingly, and reason struggles with appetite in their mind, and
although that which is evil seems evil to them,—yet they have no perfect
perception of it, nor do they know it so thoroughly as they need. Hence
they have a vague idea rather than any certain knowledge of it, and thus
allow their reason to be overcome by passion; but if they had true
knowledge of it, doubtless they would not err: since the thing by which
appetite conquers reason is always ignorance, and true knowledge can
never be overcome by passion, which is derived from the body and not
from the mind, and becomes virtue if rightly ruled and governed by
reason; if not, it becomes vice.
“But reason has such power that it always reduces the senses to
submission and enters in by wonderful means and ways, provided ignorance
does not seize that which it ought to possess. So that although the
spirits and nerves and bones have no reason in them, yet when a movement
of the mind starts in us, as if thought were spurring and shaking the
bridle on our spirits, all our members make ready,—the feet to run, the
hands to take or to do that which the mind thinks; and moreover this is
clearly seen in many who at times unwittingly eat some loathsome and
disgusting food, which to their taste seems very delicious, and then
learning what thing it was, not only suffer pain and distress of mind,
but the body so follows the mental sense, that they must perforce cast
up that food.”
17.—My lord Ottaviano was continuing his discourse further, but the
Magnifico Giuliano interrupted him and said:
“If I heard aright, my lord Ottaviano, you said that continence is an
imperfect virtue because it has a grain of passion in it; and when there
is a struggle waging in our minds between reason and appetite, I think
that the virtue which battles and gives reason the victory, ought to be
esteemed more perfect than that which conquers without opposition of
lust or passion; for there the mind seems not to abstain from evil by
force of virtue, but to refrain from doing evil because it has no
inclination thereto.”
Then my lord Ottaviano said:
“Which captain would you deem of greater worth, the one who fighting
openly puts himself in danger and yet conquers the enemy, or the one who
by his ability and skill deprives them of their strength, reducing them
to such straits that they cannot fight, and thus conquers them without
any battle or danger whatever?”
“The one,” said the Magnifico Giuliano, “who more safely conquers is
without doubt more to be praised, provided this safe victory of his do
not proceed from the cowardice of the enemy.”
My lord Ottaviano replied:
“You have judged rightly; and hence I tell you that continence may be
likened to a captain who fights manfully, and although the enemy be
strong and powerful, still conquers them, albeit not without great
difficulty and danger. While temperance unperturbed is like that captain
who conquers and rules without opposition, and having not only abated
but quite extinguished the fire of lust in the mind where she abides,
like a good prince in time of civil strife, she destroys her seditious
enemies within, and gives reason the sceptre and whole dominion.
“Thus this virtue does not compel the mind, but infusing it by very
gentle means with a vehement belief that inclines it to righteousness,
renders it calm and full of rest, in all things equal and well measured,
and disposed on every side by a certain self-accord which adorns it with
a tranquillity so serene that it is never ruffled, and becomes in all
things very obedient to reason and ready to turn its every act thereto
and to follow wherever reason may wish to lead it, without the least
unwillingness; like a tender lambkin, which always runs and stops and
walks near its dam, and moves only with her.
“This virtue, then, is very perfect and especially befitting to princes,
because from it spring many others.”
18.—Then messer Cesare Gonzaga said:
“I do not know what virtues befitting to a lord can spring from this
temperance, if it is the one which removes the passions from the mind,
as you say. Perhaps this would be fitting in a monk or hermit; but I am
by no means sure whether it would befit a prince (who was magnanimous,
liberal and valiant in arms) never to feel, whatever might be done to
him, either wrath or hate or good will or scorn or lust or passion of
any kind, and whether he could without this wield authority over
citizens or soldiers.”
My lord Ottaviano replied:
“I did not say that temperance wholly removes and uproots the passions
from the human mind, nor would it be well to do this, for even the
passions contain some elements of good; but it reduces to the sway of
reason that which is perverse in our passions and recusant to right.
Therefore it is not well to extirpate the passions altogether, in order
to be rid of disturbance; for this would be like making an edict that no
one must drink wine, in order to be rid of drunkenness, or forbidding
everyone to run, because in running we sometimes fall. You know that
those who tame horses do not keep them from running and leaping, but
would have them do so seasonably and in obedience to the rider.
“Thus, when moderated by temperance, the passions are helpful to virtue,
like the wrath that aids strength, hatred of evil-doers aids justice,
and likewise the other virtues are aided by the passions; which, if they
were wholly removed, would leave the reason very weak and languid, so
that it could effect little, like the master of a vessel abandoned by
the winds in a great calm.
“Now do not marvel, messer Cesare, if I have said that many other
virtues are born of temperance, for when a mind is attuned to this
harmony, it then through the reason easily receives true strength, which
makes it bold, and safe from every peril, and almost superior to human
passions. Nor is this less true of justice (unspotted virgin, friend of
modesty and good, queen of all the other virtues), because she teaches
us to do that which it is right to do, and to shun that which it is
right to shun; and therefore she is most perfect, because the other
virtues perform their works through her, and because she is helpful to
whomsoever possesses her, both to himself and to others: without whom
(as it is said) Jove himself could not rule his kingdom rightly.
Magnanimity also follows these and enhances them all; but she cannot
stand alone, for whoever has no other virtue, cannot be magnanimous.
Then the guide of these virtues is foresight, which consists in a
certain judgment in choosing well. And in this happy chain are joined
liberality, magnificence, thirst for honour, gentleness, pleasantness,
affability and many others which there is not now time to name.
“But if our Courtier will do that which we have said, he will find them
all in his prince’s mind, and will daily see spring therefrom beautiful
flowers and fruits, such as all the delightful gardens in the world do
not contain; and he will feel within him very great content when he
remembers that he gave his prince, not that which fools give (which is
gold or silver, vases, raiment, and the like, whereof the giver has very
great dearth, and the recipient very great abundance), but that faculty
which of all things human is perhaps the greatest and rarest—that is,
the manner and mode of ruling and reigning rightly: which would of
itself alone suffice to make men happy and to bring back once more to
earth that age of gold which is said to have been when Saturn reigned.”
19.—My lord Ottaviano having here made a little pause as if to rest, my
lord Gaspar said:
“Which do you think, my lord Ottaviano, the happier rule, and the more
able to bring back to earth that age of gold which you have
mentioned,—the rule of so good a prince, or the government of a good
republic?”
My lord Ottaviano replied:
“I should always prefer the rule of a good prince, because such dominion
is more accordant with nature, and (if it is allowed to compare small
things with infinitely great) more like that of God, who governs the
universe singly and alone.
“But leaving this aside, you see that in those things that are wrought
by human skill,—such as armies, great fleets, buildings and the
like,—the whole is referred to one man who governs to his liking. So too
in our body all the members labour and are employed at the command of
the heart. Moreover it seems fitting that the people should be ruled by
one prince, as is the case also with many animals, to whom nature
teaches this obedience as a very salutary thing. You know that stags,
cranes and many other birds, when on their flight, always set up a
leader, whom they follow and obey; and the bees obey their king as it
were by process of reason, and with as much reverence as the most
obedient people on earth; and hence all this is very strong proof that
the dominion of princes is more accordant with nature than that of
republics.”
20.—Then messer Pietro Bembo said:
“Yet it seems to me that since liberty has been given us by God as a
supreme gift, it is not reasonable that we should be deprived of it, nor
that one man should have a larger share of it than another: which
happens under the dominion of princes, who for the most part hold their
subjects in closest bondage. But in rightly ordered republics this
liberty is fully preserved: besides which, both in judgments and in
councils, it more often happens that one man’s opinion singly is wrong,
than that of many; because disturbance arising from anger or scorn or
lust more easily enters the mind of one man than that of the many, who
are almost like a great body of water, which is less liable to
corruption than a small one.
“I say, too, that the example of the animals does not seem to me
apposite; for stags, cranes and the rest do not always set up the same
one to follow and obey, but on the contrary change and vary, giving the
dominion over them now to one, now to another, and thus come to be a
kind of republic rather than a monarchy; and this may be called true and
equal liberty, when those who command to-day in turn obey to-morrow.
Neither does the example of the bees seem to me pertinent, for that king
of theirs is not of their own species; and therefore whoever would give
men a truly worthy lord, would need to find one of another species and
of more excellent nature than that of men, if men must of reason obey
him, like the herds which obey not an animal of their own kind but a
herdsman, who is a man and of higher species than theirs.
“For these reasons, my lord Ottaviano, I think the rule of a republic is
more desirable than that of a king.”
21.—Then my lord Ottaviano said:
“Against your opinion, messer Pietro, I wish to cite only one argument;
which is, that of the modes of ruling people well, three kinds only are
to be found: one is monarchy; another, the rule of the good, whom the
ancients called optimates; the other, popular government. And the excess
and opposite extreme, so to speak, wherein each one of the forms of rule
falls to ruin and decay, is when monarchy becomes tyranny; and when the
rule of the optimates changes to government by a few powerful and bad
men; and when popular government is seized by the rabble, which breaks
down distinctions and commits the government of the whole to the caprice
of the multitude. Of these three kinds of bad government, it is certain
that tyranny is the worst of all, as could be proved by many arguments;
then it follows that monarchy is the best of the three kinds of good
government, because it is the opposite of the worst; for, as you know,
the results of opposite causes are themselves opposite.
“Now as to what you said about liberty, I reply that we ought not to say
that true liberty is to live as we like, but to live according to good
laws. Nor is it less natural and useful and necessary to obey than it is
to command; and some things are born and thus appointed and ordained by
nature to command, as certain others are to obey. True it is that there
are two modes of ruling: the one imperious and violent, like that of
masters towards their slaves, and in this way the soul commands the
body; the other more mild and gentle, like that of good princes by means
of laws over their subjects, and in this way the reason commands the
appetite: and both of these modes are useful, for the body is by nature
created apt for obedience to the soul, and so is appetite for obedience
to reason. Moreover there are many men whose actions have to do only
with the use of the body; and such as these are as far from virtuous as
the soul from the body, and although they are rational creatures, they
have only such share of reason as to recognize it but not to possess or
profit by it. These, therefore, are naturally slaves, and it is better
and more profitable for them to obey than to command.”
22.—Thereupon my lord Gaspar said:
“In what mode then are the discreet and virtuous, and those who are not
by nature slaves, to be ruled?”
My lord Ottaviano replied:
“With that gentle rule, kingly and civic. And to such men it is well
sometimes to give the charge of those offices for which they are fitted,
to the end that they too may be able to command and govern those less
wise than themselves, but in such manner that the chief rule shall
wholly depend upon the supreme prince. And since you said that it is an
easier thing for the mind of one man to be corrupted than for that of
many, I say that it is also an easier thing to find one good and wise
man than many. And to be good and wise ought to be deemed possible for a
king of noble race, inclined to worthiness by his natural instinct and
by the illustrious memory of his predecessors, and practised in good
behaviour; and if he be not of another species more than human (as you
said of the bee-king), being aided by the teachings and by the education
and skill of so prudent and excellent a Courtier as these gentlemen have
described,—he will be very just, continent, temperate, strong and wise,
full of liberality, magnificence, religion and clemency. In short, he
will be very glorious, and very dear to men and to God (by whose grace
he will attain that heroic worth which will make him exceed the limits
of humanity), and may be called a demigod rather than a mortal man.
“For God delights in and protects, not those princes who wish to imitate
Him by displaying great power and making themselves adored of men, but
those who, besides the power that makes them mighty, strive to make
themselves like Him in goodness and wisdom, whereby they wish and are
able to do good and to be His ministers, distributing for men’s weal the
benefits and gifts which they receive from Him. Thus, just as in heaven
the sun and moon and other stars show the world as in a mirrour some
likeness of God, so on earth a much liker image of God is found in those
good princes who love and revere Him, and show their people the shining
light of His justice and a reflection of His divine reason and mind; and
with such as these God shares His righteousness, equity, justice and
goodness, and those other happy blessings which I know not how to name,
but which display to the world much clearer proof of divinity than the
sun’s light, or the continual revolving of the heavens and the various
coursing of the stars.
23.—“Accordingly men have been placed by God under the ward of princes,
who for this reason ought to take diligent care of them, in order to
render Him an account of them like good stewards to their lord, and
ought to love them, and regard as personal to themselves every good and
evil thing that happens to them, and provide for their happiness above
every other thing. Therefore the prince ought not only to be good, but
also to make others good, like that square used by architects, which not
only is straight and true itself, but also makes straight and true all
things to which it is applied. And a very great proof that the prince is
good is when his people are good, because the prince’s life is law and
preceptress to his subjects, and upon his behaviour all the others must
needs depend; nor is it fitting for an ignorant man to teach, nor for an
unordered man to give orders, nor for one who falls to raise up others.
“Hence if the prince would perform these duties rightly, he must devote
every study and diligence to wisdom; then he must set before himself and
follow steadfastly in everything the law of reason (unwritten on paper
or metal, but graven upon his own mind), to the end that it may be not
only familiar to him, but ingrained in him, and abide with him as a part
of himself; so that day and night, in every place and time, it may
admonish him and speak inwardly to his heart, freeing him from those
disturbances that are felt by intemperate minds, which—because they are
oppressed on the one hand as it were by the very deep sleep of
ignorance, and on the other by the travail which they suffer from their
perverse and blind desires—are tossed by relentless fury, as a sleeper
sometimes is by strange and dreadful visions.
24.—“Moreover, by adding greater power to evil wish, greater harm is
added also; and when the prince is able to do that which he wishes, then
there is great danger that he will not wish that which he ought. Hence
Bias well said that office shows what men are:[438] for just as vases
with some crack in them cannot easily be detected so long as they are
empty, yet if liquid be poured in they at once show where the flaw
is;—so corrupt and vicious minds seldom disclose their defects except
when they are filled with authority; because then they do not suffice to
bear the heavy weight of power, and hence run all lengths and scatter on
every side the greeds, the pride, the bad temper, the insolence, and
those tyrannical practices, which they have within them. Thus they
recklessly persecute the good and wise and exalt the wicked, and in
their cities they permit neither friendships nor unions nor
understandings among their subjects, but maintain spies, informers and
murderers, in order that they may frighten and make men cowardly, and
sow discords to keep men disunited and weak. And from these ways there
then ensue countless ruin and losses to the unhappy people, and often
cruel death (or at least continual fear) to the tyrants themselves;
because good princes are not afraid for themselves, but for those whom
they rule, while tyrants fear even those whom they rule; hence the
greater the number of people they rule and the more powerful they are,
so much the more do they fear and so many more enemies do they have.
“How frightened and of what uneasy mind do you think was Clearchus,
tyrant of Pontus,[439] every time he went into the market-place or
theatre, or to a banquet or other public place? who, as it is written,
was wont to sleep shut up in a chest. Or that other tyrant, Aristodemus
the Argive?[440] who made a kind of prison of his bed: for in his palace
he had a little room hung in air, and so high that it could be reached
only by a ladder; and here he slept with one of his women, whose mother
took away the ladder at night and replaced it in the morning.
“A wholly different life from this, then, ought that of the good prince
to be, free and safe and as dear to his subjects as their very own, and
so ordered as to partake both of the active and of the contemplative, as
much as may comport with his people’s weal.”
25.—Then my lord Gaspar said:
“And which of these two lives, my lord Ottaviano, seems to you more
fitting for the prince?”
My lord Ottaviano replied, laughing:
“Perhaps you think I imagine myself to be that excellent Courtier who
ought to know so many things and apply them to that good end which I
have set forth; but remember that these gentlemen have described him
with many accomplishments that are not in me. Therefore let us first
take care to find him, for I leave to him both this and all things else
that belong to a good prince.”
Then my lord Gaspar said:
“I think that if any of the accomplishments ascribed to the Courtier are
lacking in you, they are music and dancing and others of small
importance, rather than those that belong to the moulding of the prince
and to this end of Courtiership.”
My lord Ottaviano replied:
“None of those are of small importance that help to win the prince’s
favour, which is necessary (as we have said) before the Courtier risks
trying to teach him virtue; which I think I have proved can be learned,
and in which there is as much profit as there is loss in ignorance,
whence spring all sins, and especially that false esteem which men
cherish of themselves. But methinks I have said enough, and perhaps more
than I promised.”
Then my lady Duchess said:
“We shall be the more beholden to your courtesy, the more your
performance outstrips your promise; so do not weary of saying what
occurs to you about my lord Gaspar’s question; and by your faith, tell
us also everything that you would teach your prince if he had need of
instruction, and imagine yourself to have won completely his favour, so
that you are allowed to tell him freely what comes into your mind.”
26.—My lord Ottaviano laughed, and said:
“If I had the favour of a certain prince whom I know, and were to tell
him freely what I think, I fear that I should soon lose it; moreover, to
teach him, I myself should first need to learn.
“Yet since it pleases you to have me answer my lord Gaspar further
concerning this, I say that I think princes ought to lead both the two
lives, but more especially the contemplative life, because in their case
this is divided into two parts: one of which consists in perceiving
rightly and in judging; the other in commanding (justly and in those
ways that are fitting) things reasonable and those wherein they have
authority, and in requiring the same of such men as have in reason to
obey, and at appropriate times and places; and of this Duke Federico
spoke when he said that whoever knows how to command is always obeyed.
And as command is always the chief office of princes, they ought often
to see with their own eyes and be present at the execution of their
commands, and ought also sometimes to take part themselves, according to
the time and need; and all this partakes of action: but the aim of the
active life ought to be the contemplative, as peace is that of war,
repose that of toil.
27.—“Therefore it is also the good prince’s office so to establish his
people, and under such laws and ordinances, that they may live at ease
and peace, without danger and with dignity, and may worthily enjoy this
end of their actions, which ought to be tranquillity. For many republics
and princes are often found that have been very prosperous and great in
war, and as soon as they have had peace they have gone to ruin and lost
their greatness and splendour, like iron laid aside. And this has come
about from nothing else but from their not having been well established
for living at peace, and from their not knowing how to enjoy the
blessing of ease. And to be always at war, without seeking to arrive at
the end of peace, is not permitted: albeit some princes think that their
chief aim ought to be to lord it over their neighbours; and therefore
they train their people to a warlike ferocity for spoil, killing and the
like, and give rewards to excite it, and call it virtue.
“Thus it was once a custom among the Scythians that whoever had not
slain an enemy might not drink from the bowl which was handed about to
the company at solemn feasts. In other places they used to set up,
around a tomb, as many obelisks as he who was buried there had slain
enemies; and all these things were done to make men warlike, solely in
order to lord it over others: which was almost impossible, because the
undertaking was endless (until the whole world should be subjugated) and
far from reasonable according to the law of nature, which will not have
us pleased with that in others which is displeasing to us in ourselves.
“Therefore princes ought not to make their people warlike for lust of
rule, but for the sake of being able to defend themselves and their
people against him who would reduce them to bondage or do them wrong in
any wise; or to drive out tyrants and govern those people well who were
ill used, or to reduce to bondage those who are by nature such as to
deserve being made slaves, with the object of governing them well and
giving them ease and rest and peace. To this end also the laws and all
the ordinances of justice ought to be directed, by punishing the wicked,
not from hatred, but in order that they may not be wicked and to the end
that they may not disturb the tranquillity of the good. For in truth it
is a monstrous thing and worthy of blame for men to show themselves
valiant and wise in war (which is bad in itself) and in peace and quiet
(which are good) to show themselves ignorant and of so little worth that
they know not how to enjoy their happiness.
“Hence, just as in war men ought to apply themselves to the qualities
that are useful and necessary to attain its end, which is peace,—so in
peace, to attain its end also, which is tranquillity, they ought to
apply themselves to the righteous qualities that are the end of the
useful. And thus subjects will be good, and the prince will have much
more to praise and reward than to punish; and dominion will be very
happy for the subjects and for the prince—not imperious, like that of
master over slave, but sweet and gentle, like that of a good father over
a good son.”
28.—Then my lord Gaspar said:
“I should much like to know what these virtues are that are useful and
necessary in war, and what ones are righteous in peace.”
My lord Ottaviano replied:
“All virtues are good and helpful, because they tend to a good end; but
of especial utility in war is that true courage which so frees the mind
from the passions that it not only fears not dangers, but even pays no
heed to them; likewise steadfastness, and that enduring patience, with a
mind staunch and undisturbed by all the shocks of fortune. It is also
fitting in war, and always, to have all the virtues that make for
right,—like justice, continence, temperance; but much more in time of
peace and ease, because men placed in prosperity and ease, when good
fortune smiles upon them, often become unjust, intemperate, and allow
themselves to be corrupted by pleasures: hence those who are in such
case have very great need of these virtues, for ease too readily
engenders evil behaviour in human minds. Therefore it was anciently said
as a proverb, slaves should be given no ease; and it is believed that
the pyramids of Egypt were made to keep the people busy, because it is
very good for everyone to be accustomed to bear toil.
“There are still many other virtues that are all helpful, but let it
suffice for the present that I have spoken until now; for if I knew how
to teach my prince and instruct him in this kind of worthy education
such as we have planned, merely by so doing I should deem myself to have
attained sufficiently well the aim of the good Courtier.”
29.—Then my lord Gaspar said:
“My lord Ottaviano, since you have highly praised good education, and
seemed almost to think that it is the chief means of making a man
virtuous and good, I should like to know whether this instruction, which
the Courtier must give his prince, ought to be begun with practice and
with daily behaviour as it were, so as to accustom him to right doing
without his perceiving it; or whether a beginning ought to be made by
demonstrating to his reason the quality of good and evil, and by making
him understand, before he sets out, which is the good way and the one to
follow, and which is the bad way and the one to avoid: in short whether
his mind ought to be first imbued and implanted with the virtues through
the reason and intelligence or through practice.”
My lord Ottaviano said:
“You start me upon too long a discourse; still, in order that you may
not think I abstain from lack of will to answer your questions, I say
that just as our mind and body are two things, so too the soul is
divided into two parts, of which one has the reason in it, and the other
has the appetite. Then, just as in generation the body precedes the
soul, so the unreasoning part of the soul precedes the reasoning part:
which is clearly perceived in children, in whom anger and lust are seen
almost as soon as they are born, but with the lapse of time reason
appears. Hence care must be taken of the body earlier than of the soul,
and of appetite earlier than of reason; but care of the body with a view
to the soul, and of the appetite with a view to reason: for just as
intellectual worth is perfected by instruction, so is moral worth
perfected by practice. We ought, therefore, first to teach through
habit, which is able to govern the as yet unreasoning appetites and to
direct them towards the good by means of that fair use; next we ought to
establish them through the understanding, which, although it shows its
light more tardily, still furnishes a mode of making the virtues more
perfectly fruitful to one whose mind is well trained by
practice,—wherein, to my thinking, lies the whole matter.”
30.—My lord Gaspar said:
“Before you go further, I should like to know what care ought to be
taken of the body, since you said that we ought to take care of it
earlier than of the soul.”
“As to that,” replied my lord Ottaviano, laughing, “ask those who
nourish their bodies well, and are plump and fresh; for mine, as you
see, is not too well conditioned. Yet of this also it would be possible
to say much, as of the proper time for marriage, to the end that the
children may not be too near or too far from their father’s age; of the
exercises and education to be followed from birth and during the rest of
life, in order to make them handsome, strong and sturdy.”
My lord Gaspar replied:
“That which would best please women for making their children handsome
and beautiful, methinks would be that community wherein Plato in his
Republic wishes them to be held, and after that manner.”[441]
Then my lady Emilia said, laughing:
“It is not in the compact that you should fall to speaking ill of women
again.”
“I think,” replied my lord Gaspar, “that I give them great praise in
saying that they wish to bring in a custom approved by so great a man.”
Messer Cesare Gonzaga said, laughing:
“Let us see whether this could have place among my lord Ottaviano’s
precepts (I do not know if he has rehearsed them all), and whether it
were well for the prince to make it law.”
“The few that I have rehearsed,” replied my lord Ottaviano, “might
perhaps suffice to make a prince good, as princes go nowadays; although
if one cared to look into the matter more minutely, he would still have
much more to say.”
My lady Duchess added:
“Since it costs us nothing but words, tell us on your faith everything
that it would occur to your mind to teach your prince.”
31.—My lord Ottaviano replied:
“Many other things, my Lady, would I teach him, provided I knew them;
and among others, that he should choose from his subjects a number of
the noblest and wisest gentlemen, with whom he should consult on
everything, and that he should give them authority and free leave to
speak their mind to him about all things without ceremony; and that he
should preserve such demeanour towards them, that they all might
perceive that he wished to know the truth about everything and held all
manner of falsehood in hatred. Besides this council of nobles, I should
advise that there be chosen from the people other men of lower rank, of
whom a popular council should be made, to communicate with the council
of nobles concerning the affairs of the city, both public and private.
And in this way there would be made of the prince (as of the head) and
of the nobles and commonalty (as of the members) a single united body,
the government of which would spring chiefly from the prince and yet
include the others also; and this state would thus have the form of the
three good kinds of government, which are Monarchy, Optimates, and
People.[442]
32.—“Next I should show him that of the cares which belong to the
prince, the most important is that of justice; for the maintenance of
which wise and well-tried men ought to be chosen to office, whose
foresight is true foresight accompanied by goodness, for else it is not
foresight, but cunning; and when this goodness is lacking, the pleaders’
skill and subtlety always work nothing but ruin and destruction to law
and justice, and the guilt of all their errours must be laid on him who
put them in office.
“I should tell how justice also fosters that piety towards God which is
the duty of all men, and especially of princes, who ought to love Him
above every other thing and direct all their actions to Him as to the
true end; and as Xenophon said, to honour and love Him always, but much
more when they are in prosperity, so that afterwards they may the more
reasonably have confidence to ask Him for mercy when they are in some
adversity.[443] For it is impossible to govern rightly either one’s self
or others without the help of God; who to the good sometimes sends good
fortune as His minister to relieve them from grievous perils; sometimes
adverse fortune, to prevent their being so lulled by prosperity as to
forget Him or human foresight, which often repairs evil fortune, as a
good player repairs bad throws of the dice by placing his board
well.[444] Moreover I should not cease reminding the prince to be truly
religious—not superstitious or given to the vanities of incantation and
sooth-saying; for by adding divine piety and true religion to human
foresight, he would have good fortune too and a protecting God always to
increase his prosperity in peace and in war.
33.—“Next I should tell how he ought to love his land and people, not
holding them too much in bondage, lest he make himself odious to them,
from which thing there arise seditions, conspiracies and a thousand
other evils; nor yet in too great freedom, lest he be despised, from
which proceed licentious and dissolute life among his people, rapine,
theft, murder, without any fear of the law; often the ruin and total
destruction of city and realms. Next, how he ought to love those near
him according to their degree, maintaining among all men an even
equality in some things, as in justice and liberty; and in certain other
things a judicious inequality, as in being generous, in rewarding, in
distributing honours and dignities according to the inequality of their
merits, which always ought not to exceed but to be exceeded by their
rewards; and that in this way he would be not merely loved but almost
adored by his subjects. Nor would there be need that he should turn to
aliens for the safeguard of his life, because his own people for their
very profit would guard it with their own, and all men would gladly obey
the laws, when they found that he himself obeyed and was as it were the
guardian and incorruptible minister of the same; and thus he would make
so strong an impression in this matter, that even if he sometimes
chanced to infringe the laws in some particular, everyone would feel
that it was done for a good end, and the same respect and reverence
would be paid to his wish as to the law itself.
“Thus the minds of his subjects would be so tempered that the good would
not seek for more than they needed, and the bad could not; for excessive
riches are oftentimes the cause of great ruin, as in poor Italy, which
has been and still is exposed as a prey to foreign nations, both because
of bad government and because of the great riches of which it is full.
Hence it were well to have the greater part of the citizens neither very
rich nor very poor, for the over-rich often become insolent and rash;
the poor, base and dishonest; but men of moderate fortune do not lay
snares for others, and live safe from being snared: and being the
greater number, these men of moderate fortune are also more powerful;
and therefore neither the poor nor the rich can conspire against the
prince or other men, nor can they sow seditions; wherefore, in order to
avoid this evil, it is a very wholesome thing to preserve a mean in all
things.
34.—“I should say then, that the prince ought to employ these and many
other suitable precautions, so that there may not arise in his subjects’
mind a desire for new things and for a change of government; which they
most often bring to pass either for gain or else for honour which they
hope for, or because of loss or else of shame which they fear. And this
unrest is engendered in their minds sometimes by hatred and anger
driving them to despair, by reason of the wrongs and insults that have
been wrought upon them through the avarice, insolence and cruelty or
lust of their superiors; sometimes by the contempt that is aroused in
them by the neglect and baseness and unworthiness of their princes.
These two errours ought to be avoided by winning the people’s love and
obedience; as is done by benefiting and rewarding the good, and by
prudently and sometimes severely precluding the bad and seditious from
becoming powerful, which is much easier to prevent before they have
become so than to deprive them of power after they have once acquired
it. And I should say that to prevent a subject from running into these
errours, there is no better way than to keep him from evil practices,
and especially from those that spread little by little; for they are
secret pests that infect cities before it is possible to cure or even to
detect them.
“By such means I should advise that the prince contrive to keep his
subjects in a tranquil state, and to give them the blessings of mind and
body and fortune; but those of the body and of fortune, in order to be
able to exercise those of the mind, which are the more profitable the
greater and more superabundant they are; which is not true of those of
the body and of fortune. If, then, the subjects be good and worthy and
rightly directed towards the goal of happiness, their prince is a very
great lord; for that is a true and great dominion, under which the
subjects are good and well governed and well commanded.”
35.—Then my lord Gaspar said:
“I think that he would be a small lord under whom all the subjects were
good, for in every place the good are few.”
My lord Ottaviano replied:
“If some Circe were to change all the subjects of the King of France
into wild beasts, would he not seem to you a small lord for all he ruled
over so many thousand animals?[445] And on the other hand, if only the
flocks that roam our mountains here for pasture were to become wise men
and worthy cavaliers, would you not think that those herdsmen who
governed them and were obeyed by them, had become great lords instead of
herdsmen? You see then, that it is not the number but the worth of their
subjects that makes princes great.”
36.—My lady Duchess and my lady Emilia and all the others had been for a
good space very attentive to my lord Ottaviano’s discourse; but since he
now made a little pause, as if he had finished his discourse, messer
Cesare Gonzaga said:
“Verily, my lord Ottaviano, it cannot be said that your precepts are not
good and useful; nevertheless I should think that if you fashioned your
prince after them, you would rather deserve the name of a good
school-master than of a good Courtier, and he rather that of a good
governor than of a great prince. I am far from saying that the care of
lords should not be to have their people well ruled with justice and
good uses; nevertheless methinks it is enough for them to select good
ministers to dispose of such matters, and that their true office is much
greater.
“Therefore if I felt myself to be that excellent Courtier which these
gentlemen have described, and to possess the favour of my prince, I
certainly should not lead him into anything vicious; but, to pursue that
good end which you tell of, and which I agree ought to be the fruit of
the Courtier’s toils and actions, I should seek to impress upon his mind
a certain greatness, together with that regal splendour and readiness of
mind and unconquered valour in war which should make him loved and
revered by everyone to such a degree that he should be famous and
illustrious in the world chiefly for this. I should tell him also that
he ought to accompany his greatness with a familiar gentleness, with
that sweet and amiable humanity, and a fine manner of caressing both his
subjects and strangers with discrimination, more or less according to
their merits,—always preserving, however, the majesty suited to his
rank, so as not to allow his authority to abate one jot from
over-condescension, nor on the other hand to excite hatred by too stern
severity; that he ought to be very generous and splendid, and to give to
all men without reserve, because God, as the saying runs, is the
treasurer of generous princes; that he ought to give magnificent
banquets, festivals, games, public shows; to have a great number of
excellent horses (for use in war and for pleasure in time of peace),
falcons, hounds, and all things else that pertain to the pleasures of
great lords and of the people: as in our days we have seen done by my
lord Francesco Gonzaga, Marquess of Mantua, who in these matters seems
rather King of Italy than lord of a city.[446]
“I should seek also to induce him to erect great buildings, both to win
honour in his lifetime and to give a memorial of himself to posterity:
as Duke Federico did in the case of this noble palace,[447] and as Pope
Julius is now doing in the case of St. Peter’s Church[448] and of that
street which leads from the Palace to his pleasure pavilion the
Belvedere,[449] and many other buildings: as also the ancient Romans
did, whereof we see so many remains at Rome and at Naples, at Pozzuoli,
at Baja, at Civita Vecchia, at Porto,[450] and out of Italy too, and
many other places,—which are great proof of the worth of those divine
minds.[451] So did Alexander the Great also, for not content with the
fame that he had justly won by having conquered the world with arms, he
built Alexandria in Egypt, Bucephalia in India,[452] and other cities in
other countries; and he thought of reducing Mount Athos to the form of a
man, and of building a very spacious city in its left hand, and in its
right a great basin in which were to be gathered all the rivers that
take their rise there, and from it they were to flow over into the
sea:[453] a truly great thought and one worthy of Alexander the Great.
“These, my lord Ottaviano, are things which I think befit a noble and
true prince, and make him very glorious in peace and war; and not
setting his mind to so many trifles, and taking care to fight solely in
order to rule or conquer those who deserve to be ruled, or for his
subjects’ profit, or to deprive those of power who wield it ill. For if
the Romans, Alexander, Hannibal and the others had had these aims, they
would not have reached that height of glory to which they did attain.”
[Illustration:
POPE JULIUS II
GIULIANO DELLA ROVERE
1443-1513
]
Reduced from a part of Braun’s photograph (no. 42.079) of the portrait,
in the Pitti Gallery at Florence, by Raphael (1483-1520). Of two
similar portraits, one is in the Uffizi Gallery at Florence, and the
other is in the National Gallery at London. Both Passavant and
Morelli affirmed the superior authenticity of the picture here
presented, which is believed to have been painted for the Duke of
Urbino.
37.—Then my lord Ottaviano replied, laughing:
“Those who had not these aims, would have done better if they had;
although if you think, you will find many that did, and particularly
those first ancients, like Theseus and Hercules. And do not imagine that
Procrustes and Sciron, Cacus, Diomed, Antæus, Geryon, were other than
cruel and impious tyrants, against whom these lofty-minded heroes waged
perpetual and deadly war.[454] Therefore, for having delivered the world
from such intolerable monsters (for only thus ought tyrants to be
called), temples were raised and sacrifices offered to Hercules, and
divine honours paid to him; since the extirpation of tyrants is a
benefit so profitable to the world that he who confers it deserves much
greater reward than any befitting to a mortal.[455]
“And of those whom you named, do you not think that by his victories
Alexander did good to the peoples whom he conquered, having taught so
many good customs to those barbarous tribes which he overcame, that out
of wild beasts he made them men? He built so many fine cities in lands
that were ill-inhabited, and introduced right living there, and as it
were united Asia and Europe by the bond of friendship and holy laws,
that those who were conquered by him were happier than the others. For
to some he taught marriage, to others agriculture, to others religion,
others he taught not to kill but to support their fathers when grown
old, others to abstain from union with their mothers, and a thousand
other things that could be told in proof of the benefit which his
victories conferred upon the world.
38.—“But leaving the ancients aside, what more noble and glorious
enterprise and more profitable could there be than for Christians to
devote their power to subjugating the infidels?[456] Do you not think
that this war, if it succeeded prosperously and were the means of
turning so many thousand men from the false sect of Mahomet to the light
of Christian truth, would be as profitable to the vanquished as to the
victors? And truly, as Themistocles once said to his family, being
banished from his native land and received by the King of Persia and
caressed and honoured with countless and very rich gifts: ‘My friends,
we should have been undone but for our undoing;’[457] so with reason
might the Turks and Moors then say the same, because in their loss would
lie their salvation.
“Therefore I hope that we shall yet see this happiness, if God grant
life enough for Monseigneur d’Angoulême to attain the crown of
France,[458] who gives such promise of himself as my lord Magnifico told
of four evenings since; and for my lord Henry, Prince of Wales,[459] to
attain that of England, who now is growing up under his great father in
every sort of virtue,[460] like a tender shoot under the shade of an
excellent and fruit-laden tree, to renew it with much greater beauty and
fruitfulness when the time shall be; for as our friend Castiglione
writes thence,[461] and promises to tell more fully on his return, it
seems that nature wished in this lord to show her power by gathering in
a single body enough excellences to adorn a host.”
Then messer Bernardo Bibbiena said:
“Very great promise is shown also by Don Carlos, Prince of Spain, who
(although not yet arrived at the tenth year of his age) already shows so
much capacity and such certain signs of goodness, of foresight, of
modesty, of magnanimity and of every virtue, that if the empire of
Christendom shall be (as men think) in his hands, we may believe that he
must eclipse the name of many ancient emperors, and equal the fame of
the most famous that have been on earth.”[462]
39.—My lord Ottaviano added:
“I think, then, that such divine princes as these have been sent by God
on earth, and by Him made to resemble one another in youth, in martial
power, in state, in beauty and bodily shape, to the end that they may be
of one accord for this good purpose also. And if there must ever be any
envy or emulation among them, it may be solely in wishing to be each the
first and most fervent and zealous for so glorious an enterprise.
“But let us leave this discourse and return to our subject. I say, then,
messer Cesare, that the things which you wish the prince to do are very
great and worthy of much praise; but you ought to understand that if he
does not know that which I have said he ought to know, and has not
formed his mind after that pattern and directed it to the path of
virtue, he will hardly know how to be magnanimous, generous, just,
courageous, foreseeing, or to possess any of those other qualities that
are looked for in him. Nor yet would I have him such merely for the sake
of being able to exercise these qualities: for just as those who build
are not all good architects, so those who give are not all generous;
because virtue never harms any man, and there are many who rob in order
to give away, and thus are generous with the property of others; some
give to those they ought not, and leave in misfortune and distress those
to whom they are beholden; others give with a certain bad grace and
almost spite, so that men see they do so on compulsion; others not only
make no secret of it, but call witnesses and almost proclaim their
generosities; others foolishly empty the fountain of their generosity at
a draught, so that it can be no more used again.
[Illustration:
PRINCE HENRY OF WALES
AFTERWARDS HENRY VIII OF ENGLAND
1491-1547
]
Reduced from Walker and Boutall’s photograph of an anonymous portrait
(no. 157) in the National Portrait Gallery at London. Painted on
copper, and formerly owned by Mr. Barrett at Lee Priory, Kent, the
picture was acquired by the Gallery from the Messrs. Graves in 1863.
40.—“Hence in this, as in other things, it is needful to know and to
govern one’s self with that foresight which is the necessary companion
of all the virtues; which being midway are near the two extremes—that
is, the vices; and thus he who does not know, easily runs into them. For
just as it is difficult to find the central point in a circle, which is
the mean, so is it difficult to find the point of virtue set midway
between the two extremes (vicious, the one because of excess, the other
because of deficiency); and to these we are inclined, sometimes to one
and sometimes to the other. We perceive this in the pleasure or
displeasure that we feel within us, for by reason of the one we do that
which we ought not, and by reason of the other we fail to do that which
we ought; but the pleasure is much the more dangerous, because our
judgment allows itself to be easily corrupted by it.
“But since it is a difficult thing to perceive how far a man is from the
central point of virtue, we ought of our own accord to withdraw step by
step in the direction opposite to the extreme towards which we perceive
ourselves to be inclined, as those do who straighten crooked timbers;
for in such wise we approximate to virtue, which (as I have said)
consists in that central point. Hence it happens that we err in many
ways and perform our office and duty in only one way, just like archers,
who hit the mark by one way only and miss the target by many. Thus, in
his wish to be humane and affable, one prince often does countless
things beneath his dignity, and so abases himself that he is despised;
another, to preserve his grave majesty with becoming authority, becomes
austere and intolerable; another, to be held eloquent, strays into a
thousand strange fashions and long mazes of affected words, listening to
himself to such a degree that others cannot listen to him for weariness.
41.—“Therefore do not call anything a trifle, messer Cesare, that can
improve a prince in any particular, however slight it be; nor must you
suppose that I think you disparage my precepts when you say that by them
a good governor would be fashioned rather than a good prince; for
perhaps no greater or more fitting praise can be given to a prince than
to call him a good governor. Hence if it lay with me to instruct him, I
would have him take care to heed not only the matters already mentioned,
but those which are much smaller, and as far as possible understand all
details affecting his people, nor ever so believe or trust any one of
his ministers as to confide to that one alone the bridle and control of
all his government. For there is no man who is very apt for all things,
and much greater harm arises from the credulity of lords than from their
incredulity, which not only sometimes does no harm, but often is of the
greatest advantage: albeit in this matter there is need of good judgment
in the prince, to perceive who deserves to be believed and who does not.
“I would have him take care to understand the acts and be the overseer
of his ministers; to settle and shorten disputes among his subjects; to
be the means of making peace among them, and of allying them in
marriage; to have his city all united and agreed in friendship like a
private family, populous, not poor, peaceful, full of good artificers;
to favour merchants and even to aid them with money; to be generous and
splendid in hospitality towards foreigners and ecclesiastics; to
moderate all superfluities, for through the errours that are committed
in these matters, small though they seem, cities often come to ruin.
Wherefore it is reasonable that the prince should set a limit upon the
too sumptuous houses of private folk, upon feasts, upon the excessive
doweries of women, upon their luxury, upon their display in jewels and
vesture, which is naught but a proof of their folly; for besides often
wasting their husbands’ goods and substance through the ambition and the
envy which they bear one another, they sometimes sell their honour to
anyone who will buy it, for the sake of a trinket or some other like
trifle.”
[Illustration:
FEDERICO GONZAGA
MARQUESS AND AFTERWARDS DUKE OF MANTUA
1500-1540
]
Enlarged from a cast, kindly furnished by M. Pierre Valton, of an
anonymous and probably unique medal in his collection at Paris. See
Armand’s _Les Médailleurs Italiens_, ii, 155, no. 1.
42.—Then messer Bernardo Bibbiena said, laughing:
“My lord Ottaviano, you are taking sides with my lord Gaspar and
Frisio.”
My lord Ottaviano replied, also laughing:
“The dispute is finished, and I am far from wishing to renew it; so I
shall say no more of women, but return to my prince.”
Frisio replied:
“You can very well leave him now, and rest content that he should be
such as you have described him. For without doubt it would be easier to
find a lady with the qualities mentioned by my lord Magnifico, than a
prince with the qualities mentioned by you; hence I fear that he is like
Plato’s Republic, and that we are never to see his equal, unless perhaps
in Heaven.”
My lord Ottaviano replied:
“Although they be difficult, things that are possible may still be hoped
to come to pass. Therefore we shall in our times perhaps yet see him on
earth; for although the heavens are so chary of producing excellent
princes that hardly one is seen in many centuries, this good fortune may
fall to us.”
Then Count Ludovico said:
“I certainly trust that it may be so; for, besides those three great
princes whom we have named, to whom we may look for that which has been
said to befit the highest type of a perfect prince,—there are also to be
found in Italy to-day several princes’ sons, who, although they are not
likely to have such great power, will perhaps fill its place with worth.
And the one among them all who shows the best natural bent, and gives
greater promise than any of the others, seems to me to be my lord
Federico Gonzaga, eldest son of the Marquess of Mantua and nephew to our
lady Duchess here.[463] For besides the gentleness of behaviour and the
discretion which he shows at such a tender age, those who have charge of
him tell wonderful things of his capacity, eagerness for honour,
magnanimity, courtesy, generosity, love of justice; so that from so good
a beginning we cannot but hope for the best of ends.”
Then Frisio said:
“No more of this at present; we will pray God that we may see this hope
of yours fulfilled.”
43.—Here my lord Ottaviano, turning to my lady Duchess with an air of
having finished his discourse, said:
“There, my Lady, is what occurs to me to say about the aim of the
Courtier; wherein, if I shall not have wholly given satisfaction, it
will at least be enough for me to have shown that some further
perfection could be given him in addition to the things mentioned by
these gentlemen; who, methinks, omitted both this and all that I might
say, not because they did not know it better than I, but in order to
save themselves trouble; therefore I will leave them to continue, if
they have anything left to say.”
Then my lady Duchess said:
“Not only is the hour so late that it will soon be time to stop for the
evening, but it seems to me that we ought not to mingle any other
discourse with this; wherein you have gathered so many different and
beautiful things, that we may say (touching the aim of Courtiership) not
only that you are the perfect Courtier whom we seek, and competent to
instruct your prince rightly, but if fortune shall be favourable to you,
that you ought also to be an admirable prince, which would be of great
advantage to your country.”[464]
My lord Ottaviano laughed, and said:
“If I held such rank, my Lady, perhaps it would be with me as it is wont
to be with many others, who know better how to speak than to act.”
44.—Here the matter having been debated back and forth awhile among the
whole company, with some little contradiction albeit in praise of what
had been said, and it being suggested that it was not yet time to go to
rest, the Magnifico Giuliano said, laughing:
“My Lady, I am so great an enemy to guile, that I am forced to
contradict my lord Ottaviano, who, from having (as I fear) conspired
secretly with my lord Gaspar against women, has fallen into two errours
to my thinking very grave: one of which is, that in order to set this
Courtier above the Court Lady and make him transcend the bounds that she
can reach, my lord Ottaviano has set the Courtier also above the prince,
which is most unseemly; the other is in setting him such a goal that it
is always difficult, and sometimes impossible for him to reach it, and
that even when he does reach it, he ought not to be called a Courtier.”
“I do not understand,” said my lady Emilia, “how it should be so
difficult or impossible for the Courtier to reach this goal of his, nor
yet how my lord Ottaviano has set him above the prince.”[465]
“Do not grant him these things,” replied my lord Ottaviano, “for I have
not set the Courtier above the prince, nor do I think I have fallen into
any errour touching the aim of Courtiership.”
Then the Magnifico Giuliano replied:
“You cannot say, my lord Ottaviano, that the cause which gives a certain
quality to a result, does not always have more of that quality than its
result has. Thus the Courtier, through whose instruction the prince is
to become so excellent, must needs be more excellent than his prince;
and in this way he will also be of greater dignity than the prince
himself, which is most unseemly.
“Then, as for the aim of Courtiership, what you said may be true when
the prince’s age is little different from the Courtier’s, but still not
without difficulty, for where there is small difference in age, it is
natural that there should be small difference in knowledge also; while
if the prince is old and the Courtier young, it is fitting that the old
prince should know more than the young Courtier; and if this does not
always happen, it happens sometimes, and then the goal which you set the
Courtier is impossible. Again, if the prince is young and the Courtier
old, the Courtier can hardly win the prince’s mind by means of those
accomplishments that you have ascribed to him. For to say the truth,
jousting and other exercises of the person belong to young men and do
not befit old men, and music and dancing and festivals and games and
love-making are ridiculous in old age; and methinks they would be very
ill-befitting a director of the prince’s life and behaviour, who ought
to be a very sober person of authority, mature in years and experience,
and (if possible) a good philosopher, a good commander, and ought to
know almost everything.
“Therefore I think that whoever instructs the prince ought not to be
called a Courtier, but deserves a far higher and more honoured name. So
pardon me, my lord Ottaviano, if I have exposed your fallacy; for
methinks I am bound to do so for the honour of my Lady, whom you,
forsooth, would have of less dignity than this Courtier of yours, and I
will not allow it.”
45.—My lord Ottaviano laughed, and said:
“My lord Magnifico, it would be more praise to the Court Lady to exalt
her until she equalled the Courtier, than to abase the Courtier until he
equalled the Court Lady; for it would be by no means forbidden the Lady
to teach the mistress also, and with her to tend towards that aim of
Courtiership which I said befits the Courtier with the prince. But you
seek more to censure the Courtier than to praise the Court Lady; hence I
too shall be allowed to take the Courtier’s part.
“To reply, then, to your objections, I declare I did not say that the
Courtier’s instruction ought to be the sole cause of making the prince
such as we would have him. For if he were not by nature inclined and
fitted to be so, all the Courtier’s care and reminders would be in vain:
just as any good husbandman also would labour in vain if he were to set
about cultivating barren sea-sand and sowing it with excellent seed,
because such barrenness is natural in that place; but when to good seed
in fertile soil, and to mildness of climate and rains suited to the
season, there is added also the diligence of human culture, very
abundant crops are always found to spring up plenteously. Nor is it on
that account true that the husbandman alone is the cause of this,
although without him all the other things would avail little or nothing.
Thus there are many princes who would be good if their minds were
rightly cultivated; and it is of these that I am speaking, not of those
who are like barren ground, and by nature so alien to good behaviour
that no training avails to lead their minds in the straight path.
46.—“And since, as we have already said, our habits are what our actions
make them, and virtue consists in action, it is not impossible or
marvellous that the Courtier should turn the prince to many virtues,
like justice, generosity, magnanimity, the practice whereof the prince
by his greatness can easily put in use and convert into habit; which the
Courtier cannot do, because he has not the means to practise them; and
thus the prince, allured to virtue by the Courtier, may become more
virtuous than the Courtier. Moreover you must know that the whetstone,
although it cuts nothing, yet makes iron sharp. Hence it seems to me
that although the Courtier instructs the prince, he need not on that
account be said to be of more dignity than the prince.
“That the aim of this Courtiership is difficult and sometimes
impossible, and that even when the Courtier attains it, he ought not to
be called a Courtier, but deserves a greater name,—I say that I do not
deny this difficulty, since it is not less difficult to find so
excellent a Courtier than to attain such an end. Yet methinks there is
no impossibility, even in the case that you cited: for if the Courtier
is too young to know that which we have said he ought to know, we need
not speak of him, since he is not the Courtier we are presupposing, nor
is it possible that one who has to know so many things should be very
young.
“And if, indeed, the prince shall chance to be so wise and good by
nature that he has no need of precepts and counsel from others (although
everyone knows how difficult this is), it will be enough for the
Courtier to be such a man as could make the prince virtuous if he had
need of it. And then the Courtier will be at least able to perform the
other part of his duty,—not to allow his prince to be deceived, always
to make known the truth about everything, and to set himself against
flatterers and slanderers and all those who plot to debase his prince’s
mind with unworthy pleasures. And in this way he will also attain his
end in great part, although he cannot put everything in practice: which
will not be a reason for finding fault with him, since he refrains
therefrom for so good a cause. For if an excellent physician were to
find himself in a place where everyone was in health, it would not for
that reason be right to say that this physician failed in his aim,
although he healed no sick. Thus, just as the physician’s aim ought to
be men’s health, so the Courtier’s ought to be his prince’s virtue; and
it is enough for them both to have their aim latent within their power,
if their failure to attain it openly in acts arises from the subject to
which the aim is directed.
“But if the Courtier were so old that it would not become him to
practise music, festivals, games, arms, and the other personal
accomplishments, still we cannot say that it is impossible for him to
win his prince’s favour by that road. For if his age prevents his
practising those things, it does not prevent his understanding them, and
if he has practised them in his youth, it does not prevent his having
the more perfect judgment regarding them, and his knowing the more
perfectly how to teach them to his prince, in proportion as years and
experience bring more knowledge of everything. Thus, although the old
Courtier does not practise the accomplishments ascribed to him, he will
yet attain his aim of instructing his prince rightly.
47.—“And if you are unwilling to call him Courtier, it does not trouble
me; for nature has not set such limit upon human dignities that a man
may not mount from one to another. Thus, common soldiers often become
captains; private persons, kings; and priests, popes; and pupils,
masters; and thus, together with the dignity, they acquire the name
also. Hence perhaps we might say that to become his prince’s instructor
was the Courtier’s aim. However, I do not know who would refuse this
name of perfect Courtier, which in my opinion is worthy of very great
praise. And it seems to me that just as Homer described two most
excellent men as patterns of human life,—the one in deeds (which was
Achilles), the other in sufferings and endurance (which was Ulysses),—so
also he described a perfect Courtier (which was Phœnix), who, after
narrating his loves and many other youthful affairs, says that he was
sent to Achilles by the latter’s father, Peleus, as a companion and to
teach the youth how to speak and act: which is naught else but the aim
which we have marked out for our Courtier.[466]
“Nor do I think that Aristotle and Plato would have scorned the name of
perfect Courtier, for we clearly see that they performed the works of
Courtiership and wrought to this end,—the one with Alexander the Great,
the other with the kings of Sicily. And since the office of a good
Courtier is to know the prince’s character and inclinations, and thus to
enter tactfully into his favour according to need and opportunity, as we
have said, by those ways that afford safe access, and then to lead him
towards virtue,—Aristotle so well knew the character of Alexander, and
tactfully fostered it so well, that he was loved and honoured more than
a father by Alexander.[467] Thus, among many other tokens that Alexander
gave him of good will, the king ordered the rebuilding of his native
city, Stagira, which had been destroyed;[468] and besides directing
Alexander to that most glorious aim,—which was the desire to make the
world as one single universal country, and all men as a single people to
live in amity and mutual concord under a single government and a single
law, which should shine equally on all like the light of the
sun,[469]—Aristotle so instructed him in the natural sciences and in the
virtues of the mind as to make him most wise, brave, continent, and a
true moral philosopher, not only in words but in deeds; for a nobler
philosophy cannot be imagined than to bring into civilized living such
savage people as those who inhabited Bactria and Caucasia, India,
Scythia;[470] and to teach them marriage, agriculture, honour to their
fathers, abstention from rapine, murder and other evil ways; to build so
many very noble cities in distant lands;—so that countless men were by
his laws reduced from savage life to civilization. And of these
achievements of Alexander the author was Aristotle, using the means of a
good Courtier: which Callisthenes knew not how to do, although Aristotle
showed him;[471] for in his wish to be a pure philosopher and austere
minister of naked truth, without mingling Courtiership therewith, he
lost his life and brought not help but rather infamy to Alexander.
“By these same means of Courtiership, Plato schooled Dio of
Syracuse;[472] and having afterwards found the tyrant Dionysius like a
book all full of faults and errours and in need of complete erasure
rather than of any change or correction (since it was not possible to
remove from him that tinge of tyranny wherewith he had so long been
stained), Plato was unwilling to practise the ways of Courtiership upon
him, thinking that they all would surely be in vain. Which our Courtier
also ought to do, if by chance he finds himself in the service of a
prince of so evil a disposition as to be inveterate in vice, like
consumptives in their malady; for in such case he ought to escape that
bondage, in order not to receive blame for his lord’s evil deeds, and in
order not to feel that distress which all good men feel who serve the
wicked.”
48.—Here my lord Ottaviano having ceased speaking, my lord Gaspar said:
“I did not in the least suspect that our Courtier was so honoured; but
since Aristotle and Plato are his fellows, I think that no one ought
henceforth to scorn this name. Still I am far from sure whether I
believe that Aristotle and Plato ever danced or made music in their
lives, or performed any other acts of chivalry.”
My lord Ottaviano replied:
“It is hardly permitted to think that these two divine spirits did not
know everything, and hence we may believe that they practised what
pertains to Courtiership, for on occasion they write of it in such
fashion that the very masters of the subjects written of by them
perceive that they understood the same to the marrow and deepest roots.
Wherefore there is no ground for saying that all the accomplishments
ascribed to him by these gentlemen do not befit a Courtier (or
instructor of the prince, as you like to call him) who contributes to
that good end which we have mentioned, even though he were a very stern
philosopher and most saintly in his behaviour, because they are not at
variance with goodness, discretion, wisdom, worth, at every age and in
every time and place.”
49.—Then my lord Gaspar said:
“I remember that in discussing the accomplishments of the Courtier last
evening, these gentlemen desired that he should be in love; and since,
by reviewing what has thus far been said, we might conclude that a
Courtier who has to allure his prince to virtue by his worth and
authority, must almost of necessity be old (because knowledge very
rarely comes before years, and especially in those things that are
learned by experience),—I do not know how becoming it is for him (being
advanced in age) to be in love. For as has been said this evening, love
does not sit well upon old men, and those things which in young men are
delights, courtesies and elegances very pleasing to women, in old men
are extravagances and ridiculous incongruities, and for him who
practises them win hatred from women and derision from others.
“So if your friend Aristotle, the old Courtier, were in love, and did
those things which young lovers do, like some whom we have seen in our
days,—I fear he would forget to instruct his prince, and perhaps
children would mock at him behind his back, and women would get little
pleasure from him except to deride him.”
Then my lord Ottaviano said:
“As all the other accomplishments ascribed to the Courtier befit him
although he be old, methinks we ought by no means to deprive him of this
enjoyment of loving.”
“Nay,” said my lord Gaspar, “to deprive him of love is to give him an
added perfection, and to make him live at ease remote from misery and
calamity.”
50.—Messer Pietro Bembo said:
“Do you not remember, my lord Gaspar, that although he is little skilled
in love, yet in his game the other evening my lord Ottaviano seemed to
know that there are some lovers who call sweet the scorns and ires and
warrings and torments which they have from their ladies; whence he asked
to be taught the cause of this sweetness? Therefore if our Courtier,
although old, were inflamed with those loves that are sweet without
bitterness, he would feel no calamity or misery in them; and if he were
wise, as we suppose him to be, he would not deceive himself by thinking
that all was befitting to him which befits young men; but if he loved,
perhaps he would love in a way that would bring him not only no blame,
but much praise and highest happiness unaccompanied by any pain, which
rarely and almost never happens with young men; and thus he would not
fail to instruct his prince, nor would he do aught to deserve the
mockery of children.”
Then my lady Duchess said:
“I am glad, messer Pietro, that you have had little fatigue in our
discussion this evening, for now we shall with more assurance impose on
you the burden of speaking, and of teaching the Courtier this love which
is so happy that it brings with it neither blame nor discomfort; for
perhaps it will be one of the most important and useful attributes that
have thus far been ascribed to him: therefore tell us, on your faith,
all you know about it.”
Messer Pietro laughed, and said:
“I should be sorry, my Lady, that my saying it is permissible for old
men to love should be a reason for these ladies to regard me as old;
therefore please to give this task to someone else.”[473]
My lady Duchess replied:
“You ought not to shun being reputed old in wisdom, even if you are
young in years; so speak on, and make no more excuse.”
Messer Pietro said:
“Indeed, my Lady, if I must talk about this matter, I should need to go
take counsel with my Lavinello’s Hermit.”[474]
Then my lady Emilia said, half vexed:
“Messer Pietro, there is no one in the company who is more disobedient
than you; therefore it will be well for my lady Duchess to inflict some
chastisement upon you.”
Messer Pietro said, again smiling:
“Be not angry with me, my Lady, for love of God; for I will tell what
you wish.”
“Then tell it at once,” replied my lady Emilia.
51.—Whereupon messer Pietro, having first remained silent awhile, then
settled himself a little as if about to speak of something important,
and spoke thus:[475]
“My Lords, in order to prove that old men can love not only without
blame but sometimes more happily than young men, it will be needful for
me to make a little discourse to explain what love is, and in what
consists the happiness that lovers may enjoy. So I pray you hear me with
attention, for I hope to make you see that there is no man here whom it
does not become to be in love, even though he were fifteen or twenty
years older than my lord Morello.”
And then after some laughter, messer Pietro continued:
“I say, then, that according to the definition of the ancient sages love
is naught but a certain desire to enjoy beauty; and as desire longs only
for things that are perceived, perception must needs always precede
desire, which by its nature wishes good things, but in itself is blind
and does not perceive them. Therefore nature has so ordained that to
every faculty of perception there is joined a certain faculty of
appetite; and since in our soul there are three modes of perceiving,
that is, by sense, by reason, and by intellect: from sense springs
appetite, which we have in common with the brutes; from reason springs
choice, which is peculiar to man; from the intellect, by which man is
able to commune with the angels, springs will. Thus, just as sense
perceives only things that are perceptible by the senses, appetite
desires the same only; and just as intellect is directed solely to the
contemplation of things intellectual, the will feeds only upon spiritual
benefits. Being by nature rational and placed as a mean between these
two extremes, man is able at will (by descending to sense or mounting to
intellect) to turn his desires now in the one direction and now in the
other. In these two ways, therefore, it is possible to desire beauty,
which universal name applies to all things (whether natural or
artificial) that are framed in good proportion and due measure according
to their nature.
[Illustration:
PIETRO BEMBO
1470-1547
]
Much enlarged from a photographic print of a medal in the King’s
Library, British Museum. This is probably the medal for which
Benvenuto Cellini (1500-1572), in his autobiography, describes
making a sketch from life in 1537. See Émile Molinier’s monograph on
Cellini in the series, _Les Artistes Célèbres_, published at Paris
by the _Librairie de l'Art_, p. 33; and Armand’s _Les Médailleurs
Italiens_, i, 150.
52.—“But speaking of the beauty we have in mind, which is only that
which is seen in the bodies and especially in the faces of men, and
which excites this ardent desire that we call love,—we will say that it
is an effluence of divine goodness, and that although it is diffused
like the sun’s light upon all created things, yet when it finds a face
well proportioned and framed with a certain pleasant harmony of various
colours embellished by lights and shadows and by an orderly distance and
limit of outlines, it infuses itself therein and appears most beautiful,
and adorns and illumines that object whereon it shines with grace and
wonderful splendour, like a sunbeam falling upon a beautiful vase of
polished gold set with precious gems. Thus it agreeably attracts the
eyes of men, and entering thereby, it impresses itself upon the soul,
and stirs and delights her with a new sweetness throughout, and by
kindling her it excites in her a desire for its own self.
“Then, being seized with desire to enjoy this beauty as something good,
if the soul allows herself to be guided by the judgment of sense, she
runs into very grievous errours, and judges that the body wherein the
beauty is seen is the chief cause thereof; and hence, in order to enjoy
that beauty, she deems it necessary to join herself as closely to that
body as she can; which is false: and accordingly, whoever thinks to
enjoy the beauty by possessing the body deceives himself, and is moved,
not by true perception through reasonable choice, but by false opinion
through sensual appetite: wherefore the pleasure also that results
therefrom is necessarily false and vicious.
“Hence all those lovers who satisfy their unchaste desires with the
women whom they love, run into one of two errours: for as soon as they
have attained the end desired, they either not only feel satiety and
tedium, but hate the beloved object as if appetite repented its errour
and perceived the deceit practised upon it by the false judgment of
sense, which made it believe evil to be good; or else they remain in the
same desire and longing, like those who have not truly attained the end
they sought. And although, by reason of the blind opinion wherewith they
are intoxicated, they think they feel pleasure at the moment, as the
sick sometimes dream of drinking at some clear spring, nevertheless they
are not contented or appeased. And since the possession of a wished-for
joy always brings quiet and satisfaction to the mind of the possessor,
if that joy were the true and worthy object of their desire, they would
remain quiet and satisfied in possessing it; which they do not. Nay,
deceived by that likeness, they soon return to unbridled desire, and
with the same distress they felt at first, they find themselves
furiously and very ardently athirst for that which they vainly hope to
possess perfectly.
“Such lovers as these, therefore, love most unhappily; for either they
never attain their desires (which is great unhappiness), or if they do
attain thereto, they find they have attained their woe, and finish their
miseries with other miseries still greater; because even in the
beginning and midst of their love naught else is ever felt but anguish,
torments, sorrows, sufferings, toils. So that to be pale, melancholy, in
continual tears and sighs, to be sad, to be ever silent or lamenting, to
long for death, in short, to be most unhappy, are the conditions that
are said to befit lovers.
53.—“The cause, then, of this havoc in the minds of men is chiefly
sense, which is very potent in youth, because the vigour of flesh and
blood at that period gives to it as much strength as it takes away from
reason, and hence easily leads the soul to follow appetite. For, finding
herself plunged into an earthly prison and deprived of spiritual
contemplation by being set the task of governing the body, the soul
cannot of herself clearly comprehend the truth; wherefore, in order to
have perception of things, she must needs go begging first notions from
the senses, and so she believes them and bows before them and allows
herself to be guided by them, especially when they have so much vigour
that they almost force her; and as they are fallacious, they fill her
with errours and false opinions.
“Hence it nearly always happens that young men are wrapped in this love
which is sensual and wholly rebellious to reason, and thus they become
unworthy to enjoy the graces and benefits which love bestows upon its
true subjects; nor do they feel any pleasures in love beyond those which
the unreasoning animals feel, but anguish far more grievous.
“This premise being admitted then,—and it is most true,—I say that the
contrary happens to those who are of maturer age. For if such as these
(when the soul is already less weighed down by bodily heaviness and when
the natural heat begins to become tepid) are inflamed by beauty and turn
thereto a desire guided by rational choice,—they are not deceived, and
possess beauty perfectly. Therefore their possession of it always brings
them good; because beauty is good, and hence true love of beauty is most
good and holy, and always works for good in the mind of those who
restrain the perversity of sense with the bridle of reason; which the
old can do much more easily than the young.
54.—“Hence it is not beyond reason to say further that the old can love
without blame and more happily than the young; taking this word old,
however, not in the sense of decrepit, nor when the bodily organs have
already become so weak that the soul cannot perform its functions
through them, but when our knowledge is at its true prime.
“I will not refrain from saying also this: which is, that I think that
although sensual love is evil at every age, yet in the young it deserves
excuse, and is perhaps in a measure permitted. For although it gives
them anguish, dangers, toils, and those woes that have been told, still
there are many who, to win the favour of the ladies of their love, do
worthy acts, which (although not directed to a good end) are
intrinsically good; and thus from that mass of bitterness they extract a
little sweet, and through the adversities which they endure they at last
perceive their errour. Hence, just as I deem those youths divine who
control their appetites and love in reason, so I excuse those who allow
themselves to be overcome by sensual love, to which they are so strongly
inclined by human frailty: provided they show therein gentleness,
courtesy and worth, and the other noble qualities of which these
gentlemen have told; and provided that when they are no longer of
youthful age, they abandon it altogether, shunning this sensual desire
as it were the lowest round of the ladder by which true love can be
attained. But if, even after they are old, they preserve the fire of
appetite in their chill heart and subject stout reason to frail sense,
it is not possible to say how much they are to be blamed. For like fools
they deserve to be numbered with perpetual infamy among the unreasoning
animals, since the thoughts and ways of sensual love are too unbecoming
to mature age.”
55.—Here Bembo paused a little, as if to rest; and as everyone remained
silent, my lord Morello da Ortona said:
“And if an old man were found more vigourous and sturdy and of better
looks than many youths, why would you not have him allowed to love with
that love wherewith young men love?”
My lady Duchess laughed, and said:
“If young men’s love is so unhappy, my lord Morello, why do you wish to
have old men love thus unhappily also? But if you were old, as these
gentlemen say, you would not thus contrive evil for old men.”
My lord Morello replied:
“Methinks it is messer Pietro Bembo who is contriving evil for old men,
in that he wishes to have them love in a certain way which I for my part
do not understand; and methinks that to possess this beauty which he so
highly praises, without the body, is a dream.”
Then Count Ludovico said:
“Do you believe, my lord Morello, that beauty is always as good as
messer Pietro Bembo says?”
“Not I indeed,” replied my lord Morello; “nay, I remember having seen
many beautiful women who were very bad, cruel and spiteful; and this
seems to be almost always so, for beauty makes them proud, and pride
makes them cruel.”
Count Ludovico said, laughing:
“To you, perhaps, they seem cruel because they do not grant you what you
would have; but have yourself taught by messer Pietro Bembo in what way
old men ought to desire beauty, and what they ought to seek from women,
and with what they ought to be content; and if you do not exceed these
limits, you shall see that they will not be either proud or cruel, and
will grant you what you wish.”
Then my lord Morello seemed a little vexed, and said:
“I have no wish to know what does not concern me; but do you have
yourself taught how this beauty ought to be desired by young men who are
less vigourous and sturdy than their elders.”
56.—Here messer Federico, to quiet my lord Morello and turn the
conversation, did not allow Count Ludovico to reply, but interrupted him
and said:
“Perhaps my lord Morello is not altogether wrong in saying that beauty
is not always good; for women’s beauty is often the cause that brings
upon the world countless evils, hatreds, wars, deaths and destructions;
of which good proof can be found in the fall of Troy. And beautiful
women are for the most part either proud or cruel, or (as has been said)
immodest; but this would not seem to my lord Morello a fault. There are
also many wicked men who have the gift of fair looks, and it seems that
nature made them thus to the end that they should be better fitted to
deceive, and that this gracious seeming is like the bait upon the hook.”
Then messer Pietro Bembo said:
“Do not believe that beauty is not always good.”
Here Count Ludovico, in order to return to the original subject,
interrupted and said:
“Since my lord Morello does not care to know what so deeply concerns
him, teach it to me, and show me how old men attain this happiness in
love, for I shall not mind having myself thought old, provided it help
me.”
57.—Messer Pietro laughed, and said:
“I wish first to free these gentlemen’s minds from their errour; then I
will satisfy you too.” Resuming thus, he said:
“My Lords, I would not have any of us, like profane and sacrilegious
men, incur God’s wrath by speaking ill of beauty, which is a sacred
thing. Therefore, to the end that my lord Morello and messer Federico
may be warned, and not lose their sight, like Stesichorus (which is a
very fitting punishment for one who scorns beauty),[476] I say that
beauty springs from God, and is like a circle of which goodness is the
centre. And hence, as there can be no circle without a centre, there can
be no beauty without goodness. Thus a wicked soul rarely inhabits a
beautiful body, and for that reason outward beauty is a true sign of
inward goodness. And this grace is impressed upon bodies, more or less,
as an index of the soul, whereby she is known outwardly, as in the case
of trees, in which the beauty of the blossom gives token of the
excellence of the fruit. The same is true in the case of human bodies,
as we see that the Physiognomists often recognize in the face the
character and sometimes the thoughts of men; and what is more, in beasts
also we discern from the aspect the quality of the mind, which is
expressed as much as possible in the body. Think how clearly we read
anger, ferocity and pride in the face of the lion, the horse, the eagle;
a pure and simple innocence in lambs and doves; cunning malice in foxes
and wolves, and so of nearly all other animals.
58.—“The ugly are therefore for the most part wicked too, and the
beautiful are good: and we may say that beauty is the pleasant, gay,
acceptable and desirable face of good, and that ugliness is the dark,
disagreeable, unpleasant and sad face of evil. And if you will consider
all things, you will find that those which are good and useful always
have a charm of beauty also.
“Look at the state of this great fabric of the world, which was made by
God for the health and preservation of every created thing. The round
firmament, adorned with so many heavenly lights, and the earth in the
centre, surrounded by the elements and sustained by its own weight; the
sun, which in its revolving illumines the whole, and in winter
approaches the lowest sign, then little by little mounts to the other
side; the moon, which derives her light from it, according as it
approaches her or withdraws from her; and the five other stars, which
separately travel the same course.[477] These things have such influence
upon one another through the linking of an order thus precisely framed,
that if they were changed for an instant, they could not hold together,
and would wreck the world; they have also such beauty and grace that
human wit cannot imagine anything more beautiful.
“Think now of the shape of man, which may be called a little world;
wherein we see every part of the body precisely composed with skill, and
not by chance; and then the whole form together so beautiful that we
could hardly decide whether more utility or more grace is given to the
human features and the rest of the body by all the members, such as the
eyes, nose, mouth, ears, arms, breast, and other parts withal. The same
can be said of all the animals. Look at the feathers of birds, the
leaves and branches of trees, which are given them by nature to preserve
their being, and yet have also very great loveliness.
“Leave nature, and come to art. What thing is so necessary in ships as
the prow, the sides, the yards, the masts, the sails, the helm, the
oars, the anchors and the cordage? Yet all these things have so much
comeliness, that it seems to him who looks upon them that they are thus
devised as much for beauty as for use. Columns and architraves support
lofty galleries and palaces, yet they are not on that account less
pleasing to the eyes of him who looks upon them, than useful to the
buildings. When men first began to build, they set that middle ridge in
their temples and houses, not in order that the buildings might have
more grace, but to the end that the water might flow off conveniently on
either side; yet to utility soon was added comeliness, so that if a
temple were built under a sky where no hail or rain falls, it would not
seem able to have any dignity or beauty without the ridge.
59.—“Much praise is therefore bestowed, not only upon other things, but
upon the world, by saying that it is beautiful. We praise when we say:
‘Beautiful sky, beautiful earth, beautiful sea, beautiful rivers,
beautiful lands, beautiful woods, trees, gardens; beautiful cities,
beautiful churches, houses, armies.’ In short, this gracious and sacred
beauty gives highest ornament to everything; and we may say that the
good and the beautiful are in a way one and the same thing, and
especially in the human body; of whose beauty I think the most immediate
cause is beauty of the soul, which (as partaker of true divine beauty)
brightens and beautifies whatever it touches, and especially if the body
wherein it dwells is not of such base material that it cannot impress
thereon its quality. Therefore beauty is the true trophy of the soul’s
victory, when with power divine she holds sway over material nature, and
by her light overcomes the darkness of the body.
“Hence we must not say that beauty makes women proud or cruel, although
it may seem so to my lord Morello; nor yet ought we to ascribe to
beautiful women those enmities, deaths and destructions of which the
immoderate appetites of men are the cause. I do not by any means deny
that it is possible to find beautiful women in the world who are also
immodest, but it is not at all because their beauty inclines them to
immodesty; nay, it turns them therefrom and leads them to the path of
virtuous behaviour, by the connection that beauty has with goodness. But
sometimes evil training, the continual urgence of their lovers, gifts,
poverty, hope, deceits, fear and a thousand other causes, overcome the
steadfastness even of beautiful and good women; and through these or
similar causes beautiful men also may become wicked.”
60.—Then messer Cesare said:
“If that is true which my lord Gaspar alleged yesterday, there is no
doubt that beautiful women are more chaste than ugly women.”
“And what did I allege?” said my lord Gaspar.
Messer Cesare replied:
“If I remember rightly, you said that women who are wooed always refuse
to satisfy him who wooes them, and that those who are not wooed woo
others. Certain it is that the beautiful are always more wooed and
besought in love than are the ugly; therefore the beautiful always
refuse, and hence are more chaste than the ugly, who, not being wooed,
woo others.”
Bembo laughed, and said:
“To this argument no answer can be made.” Then he added: “It often
happens also that our sight deceives us like our other senses, and
accounts a face beautiful which in truth is not beautiful; and since in
some women’s eyes and whole aspect a certain wantonness is seen
depicted, together with unseemly blandishments,—many (who like such
manner because it promises them ease in attaining what they desire) call
it beauty: but in truth it is disguised immodesty, unworthy a name so
honoured and so sacred.”
Messer Pietro Bembo was silent, and those gentlemen still urged him to
speak further of this love and of the mode of enjoying beauty truly; and
he at last said:
“Methinks I have shown clearly enough that old men can love more happily
than young, which was my thesis; therefore it does not become me to go
further.”
Count Ludovico replied:
“You have better shown the unhappiness of youths than the happiness of
old men, whom as yet you have not taught what road to follow in this
love of theirs, but have only told them to be guided by reason; and by
many it is thought impossible for love to abide with reason.”
61.—Bembo still sought to put an end to his discourse, but my lady
Duchess begged him to speak; and he began anew thus:
“Too unhappy would human nature be, if our soul (wherein such ardent
desire can spring up easily) were forced to feed it solely upon that
which is common to her with the beasts, and could not direct it to that
other nobler part which is peculiar to herself. Therefore, since so
indeed it pleases you, I have no wish to avoid discoursing upon this
noble subject. And as I feel myself unworthy to speak of Love’s most
sacred mysteries, I pray him so to inspire my thought and tongue that I
may be able to show this excellent Courtier how to love beyond the
manner of the vulgar crowd; and since from boyhood up I have dedicated
my whole life to him, so now also may my words comport with this intent
and with his praise.
“I say, then, that as in youth human nature is so greatly prone to
sense, the Courtier may be allowed to love sensually while he is young.
But if afterwards in maturer years he chances still to be kindled with
this amourous desire, he must be very wary and take care not to deceive
himself by allowing himself to be led into those calamities which in the
young merit more compassion than blame, and, on the contrary, in the old
more blame than compassion.
62.—“Therefore when the gracious aspect of some fair woman meets his
view, accompanied with such sweet behaviour and gentle manners that he,
as an adept in love, feels that his spirit accords with hers: as soon as
he finds that his eyes lay hold upon her image and carry it to his
heart; and that his soul begins to contemplate her with pleasure and to
feel that influence within which stirs and warms it little by little;
and that those quick spirits which shine out through the eyes
continually add fresh tinder to the fire;—he ought at this first stage
to provide a speedy cure, and arouse his reason, and therewith arm the
fortress of his heart, and so shut the way to sense and appetite that
they cannot enter there by force or trickery. Thus, if the flame is
extinguished, the danger is extinguished also; but if it survives or
grows, then the Courtier, feeling himself caught, must resolve on
shunning wholly every stain of vulgar love, and thus enter on the path
of divine love, with reason for guide. And first he must consider that
the body wherein this beauty shines is not the fountain whence it
springs, but rather that beauty (being an incorporeal thing and, as we
have said, a heavenly beam) loses much of its dignity when it finds
itself joined to vile and corruptible matter; for the more perfect it is
the less it partakes thereof, and is most perfect when wholly separate
therefrom. And he must consider that just as one cannot hear with the
palate or smell with the ears, so too can beauty in no wise be enjoyed,
nor can the desire which it excites in our minds be satisfied, by means
of touch, but by that sense of which this beauty is the very object,
namely, the power of vision.
“Therefore let him shun the blind judgment of sense, and with his eyes
enjoy the splendour of his lady, her grace, her amourous sparkle, the
laughs, the ways and all the other pleasant ornaments of her beauty.
Likewise with his hearing let him enjoy the sweetness of her voice, the
concord of her words, the harmony of her music (if his beloved be a
musician). Thus will he feed his soul on sweetest food by means of these
two senses—which have little of the corporeal and are ministers of
reason—without passing in his desire for the body to any appetite less
than seemly.
“Next let him obey, please and honour his lady with all reverence, and
hold her dearer than himself, and prefer her convenience and pleasures
to his own, and love in her not less the beauty of mind than that of
body. Therefore let him take care not to leave her to fall into any kind
of errour, but by admonition and good advice let him always seek to lead
her on to modesty, to temperance, to true chastity, and see to it that
no thoughts find place in her except those that are pure and free from
every stain of vice; and by thus sowing virtue in the garden of her fair
mind, he will gather fruits of fairest behaviour too, and will taste
them with wonderful delight. And this will be the true engendering and
manifesting of beauty in beauty, which by some is said to be the end of
love.
“In such fashion will our Courtier be most acceptable to his lady, and
she will always show herself obedient, sweet and affable to him, and as
desirous of pleasing him as of being loved by him; and the wishes of
both will be most virtuous and harmonious, and they themselves will thus
be very happy.”
63.—Here my lord Morello said:
“To engender beauty in beauty, forsooth, would be to beget a beautiful
child in a beautiful woman; and pleasing him in this would seem to me a
much clearer token that she loved her lover than treating him with the
affability of which you speak.”
Bembo laughed, and said:
“You must not go beyond bounds, my lord Morello; nor does a woman give
small token of her love when she gives her lover her beauty, which is so
precious a thing, and by the ways that are the avenues to her soul (that
is, sight and hearing) sends the glances of her eyes, the image of her
face, her voice, her words, which strike home to the lover’s heart and
give him proof of her love.”
My lord Morello said:
“Glances and words may be, and often are, false proofs; therefore he who
has no better pledge of love is, in my judgment, far from sure; and
truly I quite expected you to make this lady of yours a little more
courteous and generous to the Courtier than my lord Magnifico made his;
but methinks that both of you are in like case with those judges who
pronounce sentence against their friends for the sake of appearing
wise.”
64.—Bembo said:
“I am very willing that this lady should be much more courteous to my
unyouthful Courtier, than my lord Magnifico’s is to the youthful
Courtier; and with reason, for my Courtier will desire only seemly
things, and therefore the lady can grant him all of them without blame;
while my lord Magnifico’s lady, who is not so sure of the youthful
Courtier’s modesty, ought to grant him only seemly things, and to refuse
him the unseemly. Hence my Courtier, to whom is granted what he asks, is
more happy than the other, to whom part is granted and part refused.
“And to the end that you may still better understand that rational love
is happier than sensual, I say that the same things ought sometimes to
be refused in sensual love and granted in rational love, because they
are unseemly in the one and seemly in the other. Thus, to please her
worthy lover, besides granting him pleasant smiles, familiar and secret
discourse, and leave to joke and jest with her and to touch her hand,
the lady may in reason even go so far as kissing without blame, which is
not permitted in sensual love according to my lord Magnifico’s rules.
For since the kiss is the union of body and soul, there is danger lest
the sensual lover incline more in the direction of the body than in that
of the soul; while the rational lover perceives that although the mouth
is part of the body, yet it gives issue to words, which are interpreters
of the soul, and to that inward breath which is itself even called soul.
Hence a man delights to join his mouth to that of his beloved in a kiss,
not in order to arouse any unseemly desire in him, but because he feels
that bond to be the opening of a passage between their souls, which,
being each drawn by desire for the other, pour themselves each into the
other’s body by turn, and so commingle that each has two souls, and a
single soul (thus composed of these two) rules as it were over two
bodies. Hence the kiss may be oftener said to be a joining of soul than
of body, because it has such power over the soul that it draws her to
itself and separates her from the body. On this account all chaste
lovers desire to kiss as a joining of the soul; and thus the divinely
enamoured Plato says that in kissing the soul came to his lips to escape
his body. And since the separation of the soul from things material, and
its complete union with things spiritual, may be denoted by the kiss,
Solomon, in his divine book of the Song, says: ‘Let him kiss me with the
kiss of his mouth,’ to express desire that his soul might be so
transported with divine love to the contemplation of celestial beauty,
that by joining closely therewith she might forsake the body.”
65.—Everyone gave closest heed to Bembo’s discourse; and he, having made
a little pause and seeing that no one else spoke, said:
“As you have made me begin to teach our unyouthful Courtier happy love,
I fain would lead him a little farther; for it is very dangerous to stop
at this stage, seeing that the soul is very prone to the senses, as has
many times been said; and although reason and argument choose well and
perceive that beauty does not spring from the body, and although they
therefore put a bridle upon unseemly desires, still, always
contemplating beauty in the body often perverts sound judgment. And even
if no other evil flowed therefrom, absence from the beloved object
brings much suffering with it, because the influence of her beauty gives
the lover wonderful delight when she is present, and by warming his
heart wakens and melts certain dormant and frozen forces in his soul,
which (being nourished by the warmth of love) spread and blossom about
his heart, and send forth through the eyes those spirits that are very
subtle vapours made of the purest and brightest part of the blood, which
receive the image of her beauty and fashion it with a thousand various
ornaments. Hence the soul delights, and trembles with awe and yet
rejoices, and as in a stupour feels not only pleasure, but that fear and
reverence which we are wont to have for sacred things, and speaks of
being in paradise.
66.—“Therefore the lover who considers beauty in the body only, loses
this blessing and felicity as soon as his beloved lady by her absence
leaves his eyes without their splendour, and his soul consequently
widowed of its blessing. Because, her beauty being far away, that
amourous influence does not warm his heart as it did in her presence;
wherefore his pores become arid and dry, and still the memory of her
beauty stirs a little those forces of his soul, so that they seek to
scatter abroad the spirits; and these, finding the ways shut, have no
exit, and yet seek to issue forth; and thus hemmed in by those goads,
they sting the soul and give it keenest suffering, as in the case of
children when the teeth begin to come through the tender gums. And from
this proceed the tears, the sighs, the anguish and the torments of
lovers, because the soul is ever in affliction and travail, and becomes
almost raging until her dear beauty appears to it again; and then it
suddenly is calmed and breathes, and all intent upon that beauty it
feeds on sweetest food, nor would ever part from so delightful a
spectacle.
“Hence, to escape the torment of this absence and to enjoy beauty
without suffering, there is need that the Courtier should, with the aid
of reason, wholly turn his desire from the body to the beauty alone, and
contemplate it in itself simple and pure, as far as he can, and fashion
it in his imagination apart from all matter; and thus make it lovely and
dear to his soul, and enjoy it there, and have it with him day and
night, in every time and place, without fear of ever losing it; bearing
always in mind that the body is something very different from beauty,
and not only does not enhance it, but diminishes its perfection.
“In this wise will our unyouthful Courtier be beyond all the bitterness
and calamities that the young nearly always feel: such as jealousies,
suspicions, disdainings, angers, despairings, and certain furies full of
madness whereby they are often led into such errour that some of them
not only beat the women whom they love, but deprive themselves of life.
He will do no injury to the husband, father, brothers or kinsfolk of his
beloved lady; he will put no infamy upon her; he will never be forced to
bridle his eyes and tongue with such difficulty in order not to disclose
his desires to others, or to endure suffering at partings or
absences;—because he will always carry his precious treasure with him
shut up in his heart, and also by force of his imagination he will
inwardly fashion her beauty much more beautiful than in fact it is.
67.—“But besides these blessings the lover will find another much
greater still, if he will employ this love as a step to mount to one
much higher; which he will succeed in doing if he continually considers
within himself how narrow a restraint it is to be always occupied in
contemplating the beauty of one body only; and therefore, in order to
escape such close bounds as these, in his thought he will little by
little add so many ornaments, that by heaping all beauties together he
will form an universal concept, and will reduce the multitude of these
beauties to the unity of that single beauty which is spread over human
nature at large. In this way he will no longer contemplate the
particular beauty of one woman, but that universal beauty which adorns
all bodies; and thus, bewildered by this greater light, he will not heed
the lesser, and glowing with a purer flame, he will esteem lightly that
which at first he so greatly prized.
“This stage of love, although it be very noble and such as few attain,
still cannot be called perfect; for since the imagination is merely a
corporeal faculty and has no perception except through those means that
are furnished it by the senses, it is not wholly purged of material
darkness; and hence, although it considers this universal beauty in the
abstract and intrinsically, yet it does not discern that beauty very
clearly or without some ambiguity, because of the likeness which
phantoms bear to substance. Thus those who attain this love are like
tender birds beginning to put on feathers, which, although with their
frail wings they lift themselves a little in flight, yet dare not go far
from their nest or trust themselves to the winds and open sky.
68.—“Therefore when our Courtier shall have reached this goal, although
he may be called a very happy lover by comparison with those who are
plunged in the misery of sensual love, still I would have him not rest
content, but press boldly on following along the lofty path after the
guide who leads him to the goal of true felicity. And thus, instead of
going outside himself in thought (as all must needs do who choose to
contemplate bodily beauty only), let him have recourse to himself, in
order to contemplate that beauty which is seen by the eyes of the mind,
which begin to be sharp and clear when those of the body lose the flower
of their loveliness. Then the soul,—freed from vice, purged by studies
of true philosophy, versed in spiritual life, and practised in matters
of the intellect, devoted to the contemplation of her own substance,—as
if awakened from deepest sleep, opens those eyes which all possess but
few use, and sees in herself a ray of that light which is the true image
of the angelic beauty communicated to her, and of which she then
communicates a faint shadow to the body. Grown blind to things earthly,
the soul thus becomes very keen-sighted to things heavenly; and
sometimes, when the motive forces of the body are absorbed by earnest
contemplation or fettered by sleep, being unhampered by them, she is
conscious of a certain far-off perfume of true angelic beauty, and
ravished by the splendour of that light, she begins to kindle and
pursues it so eagerly that she almost becomes phrensied with desire to
unite herself to that beauty, thinking that she has found God’s
footstep, in the contemplation of which she seeks to rest as in her
beatific end. And thus, glowing in this most happy flame, she rises to
her noblest part, which is the intellect; and here, no longer darkened
by the gloomy night of things earthly, she sees the divine beauty; but
still she does not yet quite enjoy it perfectly, because she
contemplates it in her own particular intellect only, which cannot be
capable of the vast universal beauty.
“Wherefore, not well content with this boon, love gives the soul a
greater felicity; for just as from the particular beauty of one body it
guides her to the universal beauty of all bodies, so in the highest
stage of perfection it guides her from the particular to the universal
intellect. Hence the soul, kindled by the most sacred fire of true
divine love, flies to unite herself with the angelic nature, and not
only quite forsakes sense, but has no longer need of reason’s discourse;
for, changed into an angel, she understands all things intelligible, and
without veil or cloud views the wide sea of pure divine beauty, and
receives it into herself, and enjoys that supreme felicity of which the
senses are incapable.
69.—“If, then, the beauties which with these dim eyes of ours we daily
see in corruptible bodies (but which are naught but dreams and faintest
shadows of beauty) seem to us so fair and gracious that they often
kindle most ardent fire in us, and of such delight that we deem no
felicity able to equal that which we sometimes feel at a single glance
coming to us from a woman’s beloved eyes,—what happy wonder, what
blessed awe, shall we think is that which fills the souls that attain to
the vision of divine beauty! What sweet flame, what delightful burning,
must that be thought which springs from the fountain of supreme and true
beauty!—which is the source of every other beauty, which never waxes nor
wanes: ever fair, and of its own self most simple in every part alike;
like only to itself, and partaking of none other; but fair in such wise
that all other fair things are fair because they derive their beauty
from it.
“This is that beauty identical with highest good, which by its light
calls and attracts all things to itself, and not only gives intellect to
the intellectual, reason to the rational, sense and desire for life to
the sensual, but to plants also and to stones communicates motion and
that natural instinct of their quality, as an imprint of itself.
“Therefore this love is as much greater and happier than the others, as
the cause that moves it is more excellent; and hence, just as material
fire refines gold, so does this most sacred fire in our souls destroy
and consume that which is mortal there, and quickens and beautifies that
celestial part which at first, by reason of the senses, was dead and
buried in them. This is the Pyre whereon the poets write that Hercules
was burned on the crest of Mount Œta, and by such burning became divine
and immortal after death.[478] This is the Burning Bush of Moses, the
Cloven Tongues of fire, the Fiery Chariot of Elias,[479] which doubles
grace and felicity in the souls of those who are worthy to behold it,
when they leave this earthly baseness and take flight towards heaven.
“Let us, then, direct all the thoughts and forces of our soul to this
most sacred light, which shows us the way that leads to heaven; and
following after it, let us lay aside the passions wherewith we were
clothed at our fall, and by the stairway that bears the shadow of
sensual beauty on its lowest step, let us mount to the lofty mansion
where dwells the heavenly, lovely and true beauty, which lies hidden in
the inmost secret recesses of God, so that profane eyes cannot behold
it. Here we shall find a most happy end to our desires, true rest from
our toil, certain cure for our miseries, most wholesome medicine for our
diseases, safest refuge from the boisterous storms of this life’s
tempestuous sea.
70.—“What mortal tongue, then, O most holy Love, can praise thee
worthily? Most fair, most good, most wise, thou springest from the union
of beauty and goodness and divine wisdom, and abidest in that union, and
by that union returnest to that union as in a circle. Sweetest bond of
the universe, joining things celestial to things terrestrial, thou with
benignant sway inclinest the supernal powers to rule the lower powers,
and turning the minds of mortals to their origin, joinest them thereto.
Thou unitest the elements in concord, movest nature to produce—and that
which is born, to the perpetuation of life. Thou unitest things that are
separate, givest perfection to the imperfect, likeness to the unlike,
friendship to the unfriendly, fruit to the earth, tranquillity to the
sea, vital light to the heavens.
“Thou art father of true pleasure, of grace, of peace, of gentleness and
good will, enemy to rustic savagery and sloth—in short, the beginning
and the end of every good. And since thou delightest to inhabit the
flower of beautiful bodies and beautiful souls, and thence sometimes to
display thyself a little to the eyes and minds of those who are worthy
to behold thee, methinks that now thy abode is here among us.
“Deign, then, O Lord, to hear our prayers, pour thyself upon our hearts,
and with the splendour of thy most holy fire illumine our darkness and,
like a trusted guide, in this blind labyrinth show us the true path.
Correct the falseness of our senses, and after our long pursuit of
vanities give us true and solid good; make us to inhale those spiritual
odours that quicken the powers of the intellect, and to hear the
celestial harmony with such accord that there may no longer be room in
us for any discord of passion; fill us at that inexhaustible fountain of
content which ever delights and never satiates, and gives a taste of
true beatitude to all who drink of its living and limpid waters; with
the beams of thy light purge our eyes of misty ignorance, to the end
that they may no longer prize mortal beauty, and may know that the
things which first they seemed to see, are not, and that those which
they saw not, really are.
“Accept our souls, which are offered thee in sacrifice; burn them in
that living flame which consumes all mortal dross, to the end that,
being wholly separated from the body, they may unite with divine beauty
by a perpetual and very sweet bond, and that we, being severed from
ourselves, may, like true lovers, be able to transform ourselves into
the beloved, and rising above the earth may be admitted to the angels’
feast, where, fed on ambrosia and immortal nectar, we may at last die a
most happy and living death, as died of old those ancient fathers whose
souls thou, by the most glowing power of contemplation, didst ravish
from the body and unite with God.”
71.—Having thus far spoken, with such vehemence that he almost seemed
transported and beside himself, Bembo remained silent and motionless,
keeping his eyes towards heaven, as if wrapped in ecstasy; when my lady
Emilia, who with the others had been listening most attentively to his
discourse, took him by the border of his robe, and shaking him a little,
said:[480]
“Have a care, messer Pietro, that with these thoughts your soul, also,
does not forsake your body.”
“My Lady,” replied messer Pietro, “that would not be the first miracle
that love has wrought upon me.”
Then my lady Duchess and all the others again began urging Bembo to
continue his discourse: and everyone seemed almost to feel in his mind a
spark of that divine love which inspired the speaker, and all desired to
hear more; but Bembo added:
“My Lords, I have said that which love’s sacred phrensy dictated to me
at the moment; now that it seems to inspire me no further, I should not
know what to say: and I think love is not willing that its secrets
should be further disclosed, or that the Courtier should pass beyond
that stage which it has been pleased to have me show him; and therefore
perhaps it is not permitted to speak more of this matter.”
72.—“Verily,” said my lady Duchess, “if the unyouthful Courtier should
prove able to follow the path that you have shown him, he ought in all
reason to content himself with such great felicity, and to have no envy
of the youthful Courtier.”
Then messer Cesare Gonzaga said:
“The road which leads to this felicity seems to me so steep that I
believe it is very hard to travel.”
My lord Gaspar added:
“I believe it is hard for men to travel, but impossible for women.”
My lady Emilia laughed, and said:
“My lord Gaspar, if you return to wronging us so often, I promise you
that you will not be pardoned again.”
My lord Gaspar replied:
“No wrong is done you by saying that women’s souls are not so purged of
passion as those of men, nor given to contemplation, as messer Pietro
said those must be who would taste divine love. Thus we do not read that
any woman has had this grace, but that many men have had it, like Plato,
Socrates and Plotinus,[481] and many others; and so many of our holy
Fathers, like St. Francis, upon whom an ardent spirit of love impressed
the most holy seal of the five wounds:[482] nor could aught but the
power of love lift St. Paul to the vision of those mysteries whereof man
is not allowed to speak;[483] nor show St. Stephen the opened
heavens.”[484]
Here the Magnifico Giuliano replied:
“In this, women will by no means be outdone by men; for Socrates himself
confesses that all the mysteries of love which he knew were revealed to
him by a woman, who was the famous Diotima;[362] and the angel who
wounded St. Francis with the fire of love, has also made several women
of our age worthy of the same seal. You must remember, too, that St.
Mary Magdalen had many sins forgiven her because she loved much,[485]
and perhaps with no less grace than St. Paul was she many times lifted
to the third heaven by angelic love; and so many others, who (as I
narrated yesterday more at large) for the love of Christ’s name took no
heed of life, nor were afraid of torments or any manner of death however
horrible and cruel it might be; and they were not old, as messer Pietro
would have our Courtier, but tender and delicate girls, and of that age
wherein he says that sensual love ought to be allowed in men.”
73.—My lord Gaspar began making ready to reply, but my lady Duchess
said:
“Of this let messer Pietro Bembo be the judge, and let us abide by his
decision whether or not women are as capable of divine love as men are.
But as the controversy between you might be too long, it will be well to
postpone it until to-morrow.”
“Nay, until this evening,” said messer Cesare Gonzaga.
“How until this evening?” said my lady Duchess.
Messer Cesare replied:
“Because it is already day;” and he showed her the light that was
beginning to come in through the cracks at the windows.
Then everyone rose to his feet in great surprise, for the discussion did
not seem to have lasted longer than usual; but by reason of having been
begun much later, and by its pleasantness, it had so beguiled the
company that they had not perceived the flight of hours; nor was there
anyone who felt the heaviness of sleep upon his eyes, which nearly
always happens when the accustomed hour of sleep is passed in watching.
The windows having then been opened on that side of the palace which
looks towards the lofty crest of Mount Catria,[486] they saw that a
beautiful dawn of rosy hue was already born in the east, and that all
the stars had vanished save Venus, sweet mistress of the sky, who holds
the bonds of night and day; from which there seemed to breathe a gentle
wind that filled the air with crisp coolness and began to waken sweet
choruses of joyous birds in the murmuring forests of the hills hard by.
So, having reverently taken leave of my lady Duchess, they all started
towards their chambers without light of torches, that of day being
enough for them; and as they were about to quit the room, my lord
Prefect turned to my lady Duchess, and said:
“My Lady, to finish the controversy between my lord Gaspar and my lord
Magnifico, we will come with our judge this evening earlier than we did
yesterday.”
My lady Emilia replied:
“On condition that if my lord Gaspar wishes to accuse women and put some
fresh imputation upon them, as is his wont, he shall also give bond to
sustain his charge, for I account him a shifty disputant.”
NOTES
VXORI DILECTISSIMAE
OPERIS ADIVTRICI
[Illustration:
BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE
COUNT OF NOVILLARA
1478-1529
]
Reduced from Anderson’s photograph (no.2955) of the anonymous portrait
in the Corsini Gallery at Rome. This may possibly be a copy of a
second portrait that Raphael is said to have painted of Castiglione,
in 1519.
PRELIMINARY NOTES
Baldesar Castiglione was born on his father’s estate of Casatico in the
Mantuan territory, 6 December 1478. Michelangelo was his senior by four
years; Leo X by three years; Titian by one year; Giorgione and Cesare
Borgia were born in the year of his birth, while his friend Raphael and
also Luther were his juniors by five years.
His surname is said to be derived from the little town at which
Bonaparte defeated the Austrians near Mantua in 1796, and which is by
some supposed to have taken its name from _Castrum Stiliconis_, Camp of
Stilico, a Roman general of the 4th century. One Tealdo Castiglione was
Archbishop of Milan as early as 1074, from which time the family is
often and honourably mentioned in the annals of northern Italy.
Baldesar’s parents were Count Cristoforo Castiglione, a
soldier-courtier, and Luigia Gonzaga, a near kinswoman of the Marquess
of Mantua. The boy studied at Milan,—learning Latin from Giorgio Merula
and Greek from Demetrios Chalcondylas, an erudite Athenian who had fled
from Byzantium about 1447, and of whom another pupil wrote: “It seems to
me that in him are figured all the wisdom, the civility and the elegance
of those ancients who are so famous and so illustrious. Merely seeing
him, you fancy you are looking on Plato; far more when you hear him
speak.”
Having spent some time at the splendid court of Ludovico Sforza at
Milan, Castiglione lost his father in 1499, and (the Sforzas being
expelled the same year) he returned to Mantua and entered the service of
his natural lord, the Marquess Gianfrancesco Gonzaga; he accompanied
this prince to Milan to witness the entry of Louis XII of France, and
afterwards on an expedition to aid the French in their vain effort to
hold the kingdom of Naples against the Aragonese. When Gonzaga abandoned
the French cause (after being defeated by Ferdinand the Catholic’s
“Great Captain,” Consalvo de Cordova, near the Garigliano in 1503),
Castiglione obtained leave to go to Rome, and there met Duke Guidobaldo
di Montefeltro, who had come to pay homage to the newly elected Pope
Julius II. He entered the duke’s service, and soon became one of the
brightest ornaments of that brilliant company of statesmen, prelates,
scholars, poets, wits and ladies, known as the Court of Urbino.
In 1504 he took part, under Duke Guidobaldo, in the papal siege of
Cesena against the Venetians. The next year he attended the duke on a
diplomatic visit to Rome. In 1506 he was sent to the court of Henry VII
of England to receive the insignia of the Order of the Garter on the
duke’s behalf. As appears from a letter to his mother, he returned to
Urbino as early as 5 March 1507, notwithstanding his mention of himself
in The Courtier as still absent in England at the date (8-11 March) of
the dialogues he professes to report at second hand. In the same year he
was sent on a mission to Louis XII at Milan.
On Guidobaldo’s death in 1508, Castiglione continued in the service of
the new duke, Francesco Maria della Rovere (“my lord Prefect” of THE
COURTIER), who appointed him governor of Gubbio. In the following year
he served in his master’s campaign against the Venetians, and contracted
a dangerous illness, during which he was tenderly nursed by the dowager
duchess, Elisabetta Gonzaga. In 1511 he accompanied the duke to Rome on
the occasion of the latter’s trial for the murder of Cardinal Alidosi,
and was active in Francesco Maria’s successful defence. In 1513 the duke
created him Count of Novillara and gave him an estate of that name,
which however he soon lost through the Medici usurpation of the duchy,
and never regained. At the death of Julius II, Castiglione was
ambassador to the sacred college, and continued in that office during
nearly the whole of Leo X's pontificate. His numerous letters show the
variety and importance of the diplomatic business in which he was
engaged.
Several plans for his marriage came to nothing, and on one occasion,
when the lady’s father hesitated, the suitor broke off negotiations,
saying: “The wife that I am to take, be she who she may, I desire that
she should be given to me with as good will as I take her withal,—yea,
if she were the daughter of a king.”
Pope Leo having in 1516 basely deprived Francesco Maria of the Duchy of
Urbino, Castiglione accepted an invitation to Mantua and there married
Ippolita, daughter of Count Guido Torello di Montechiarugolo and
Francesca Bentivoglio, a daughter of the former ruler of Bologna. This
union proved exceptionally happy and was blessed by three children: a
son Camillo, a daughter Anna, and a second daughter Ippolita, at whose
birth the young mother lost her life in 1520. His son attained the age
of eighty years, and is said to have been the true embodiment of the
qualities described in THE COURTIER.
Castiglione resided alternately at Mantua and at Rome, where he served
as Mantuan ambassador, and where his learning, wit, taste, gentle
disposition and integrity earned for him an almost unique eminence at
the papal court.
In 1524 he was sent by Pope Clement VII as ambassador to the Emperor
Charles V (who was waging war against the French in Italy), but while
his counsel and high qualities were appreciated, he was too honest a man
to cope with the tortuous politics of the time, and proved unable to
avert the capture and sack of Rome (1527) or the imprisonment of the
pope. These catastrophes, together with a malicious and easily disproved
charge of treason brought against him, preyed upon his health, and
despite the many honours conferred upon him by Charles, he failed to
rally, and finally died at Toledo, 7 February 1529, without again seeing
his native land. His body was afterwards brought to Italy and buried in
the church of the Madonna delle Grazie near Mantua, where his tomb was
erected from designs by his young friend Giulio Romano.
Besides THE COURTIER, his writings comprise: _Tirsi_, an eclogue of
fifty-five stanzas in _ottava rima_, written and recited at the court of
Urbino for the carnival of 1506; a prologue and epilogue for his friend
Bibbiena’s _Calandra_; a few Italian lyrics of moderate merit; and some
better Latin elegies and epigrams; nearly all composed during his
embassy at Rome. A large number of his letters also have been preserved.
[Illustration:
CASTIGLIONE'S TOMB
CHURCH OF THE MADONNA DELLE GRAZIE NEAR MANTUA
]
Reduced from a water-colour drawing made by the architect Patricolo and
the painter Zanetti from the monument designed by Giulio Pippi,
better known as Giulio Romano, (1492-1546). The water-mark of the
paper on which this volume is printed is copied from a drawing, by
Zanetti, of Castiglione’s arms as they appear in the upper left-hand
panel of the monument.
His fine character is reflected in that of his Courtier, who (as Symonds
says) “is, with one or two points of immaterial difference, a modern
gentleman, such as all men of education at the present day would wish to
be.” It may perhaps aid the reader to realize the time in which the
author lived, to recall that when Castiglione was born, printing had
been practised in Italy for thirteen years, that the earliest Greek
grammar had been printed two years, that America was discovered when he
was a boy, that the Reformation began when he was in the prime of life,
and that the Lutherans were first called Protestants in the year of his
death.
The first (Aldine) edition of THE COURTIER was issued thirteen years
after the death of Teob_aldo_ Manucci, the illustrious founder of the
press that continued to bear his name, and consisted of one thousand and
thirty-one copies, of which thirty were on large paper and one on
vellum. It is a small folio of one hundred and twenty-two leaves, the
type-page measuring almost precisely nine and one-quarter inches by five
and one-eighth inches. In its ordinary form the book can hardly be
called rare, as in 1895 the present translator secured a good copy from
Leipsic for forty-five francs.
The earliest Spanish translator, BOSCAN, (born at Barcelona about 1493;
died in France about 1542), was of gentle birth. Early becoming a
soldier, he served with credit in Charles V's Italian campaigns, and
thus acquired familiarity with the language and literature of Italy. He
is said to have known Castiglione personally. Having been for some time
tutor to the young prince who was later known as the Duke of Alva, he
married and devoted the rest of his short life to letters. As a writer
he is best known as the founder of the Italian poetical school in Spain.
Ticknor says that Boscan’s version of THE COURTIER hardly professes to
be literal, but that perhaps nothing in Castilian prose of an earlier
date is written in so classical and finished a style. It has been often
reprinted (as recently as 1873), and was found useful by the present
translator in doubtful passages.
The earliest French translator, COLIN, (died 1547), was a native of
Auxerre and enjoyed the favour of Francis I, whom he served as reader
and almoner, and who bestowed upon him the abbotship of St. Ambrose at
Tours, as well as other ecclesiastical offices. In his prosperity he
showed much kindness to his less fortunate brother authors, but he was
too free of speech to be permanently successful as a courtier, and lost
his preferments. His translation of THE COURTIER, which some writers
erroneously ascribe to Jean Chaperon, is little esteemed, was soon
issued with corrections by another hand, and then followed by another
French version. He translated also parts of Homer and Ovid, and composed
original verse in Latin and French. For an account of Castiglione’s
influence upon French literature and of his many French imitators,
consult Pietro Toldo’s “Le Courtisan dans la littérature française et
ses rapports avec l'œuvre du Castiglione,” (Archiv für das Studium der
Neueren Sprachen und Litteraturen, C. iv, pp. 75 and 313, and C. v, p.
60).
The earliest English translator, HOBY, (born 1530; died 1566), was the
son of William and Katherine (Forden) Hoby of Herefordshire. Having
studied at Cambridge, he visited France, Italy and other foreign
countries. In 1565-6 he was knighted by Queen Elizabeth and sent as
ambassador to France, where he soon died, leaving several children and a
widow. This lady was the third of Sir Anthony Cooke’s five learned
daughters, of whom the eldest married Sir William Cecil (afterwards Lord
Burleigh), while the second became the mother of Francis Bacon, Lord
Verulam. Interesting details of Hoby’s life and of the manners of the
time are given in his unpublished diary, preserved in the British
Museum. His version of THE COURTIER was carefully made, and although
rough to our ears and occasionally obscure, it became very popular and
was several times republished. A beautiful reprint of the original
edition has recently been issued (1900), in a scholarly introduction to
which Professor Walter Raleigh traces the influence of the book upon
Elizabethan writers. THE COURTIER, and especially Hoby’s translation of
it, are the subject of a very interesting study by Mary Augusta Scott,
Ph.D., printed in the Publications of the Modern Language Association of
America, vol. xvi (1901), no. 4. In 1570 Roger Ascham wrote in his
“Schoolmaster:” “To join learning with comely exercises, Count Baldesar
Castiglione in his book CORTEGIANO doth trimly teach: which book,
advisedly read and diligently followed but one year at home in England,
would do a young gentleman more good, I wis, than three years’ travel
abroad in Italy. And I marvel this book is not more read in the Court
than it is, seeing it is so well translated into English by a worthy
gentleman, Sir Thomas Hobbie, who was many ways well furnished with
learning, and very expert in knowledge of divers tongues.”
Of the first German translator, LORENZ KRATZER, little more is known
than that he was an officer of customs at Burckhausen, in Bavaria, from
1565 to 1588, and that he speaks of having devoted to letters the ample
leisure which his duties permitted. Although said to be meritorious, his
work can hardly have gained wide currency, as both Noyse (whose German
translation of THE COURTIER was published at Dilingen in 1593) and a
third German translator (whose version was issued at Frankfort in 1684
under the initials “J. C. L. L. J.”) seem to have regarded themselves
each as the earliest in the field.
The first Latin translator, TURLER, (born 1550; died 1602), was a
_Doctor Juris_, and became burgomaster of his native town of Lössnitz,
near Leipsic. Besides THE COURTIER, he translated several of
Machiavelli’s works into Latin.
NOTES TO THE DEDICATORY LETTER
Note 1 page 1. Dom MIGUEL DE SILVA, (born about 1490; died 1556), was
the second son of Diego de Silva and Maria de Ayola, Count and Countess
of Portalegre, a province of central Portugal. Having studied at the
universities of Paris, Siena and Bologna, he was soon called to the
court of Emanuel of Portugal, held various ecclesiastical posts, and was
made Bishop of Viseu in the Province of Beira. As ambassador to Popes
Leo X, Adrian VI and Clement VII, he paid long visits to Rome, where his
friendship with Castiglione probably began. During the twenty years that
followed 1521 he served John III of Portugal as _Escribano de la
Puridad_; then, having been made a cardinal by Paul III, he spent the
remainder of his life in the papal service, died in Rome, and was buried
in the church of Santa Maria in Trastevere. Eminent as a prelate and a
diplomatist, he also enjoyed no small repute as an author and an elegant
Latinist.
Note 2 page 1. GUIDOBALDO DI MONTEFELTRO, Duke of Urbino, (born 1472;
died 1508), was the only son of Duke Federico di Montefeltro and
Battista Sforza, an accomplished niece of the first Sforza duke of
Milan. Precocious as a child, he was elaborately yet judiciously
educated, and much of the praise bestowed upon him in THE COURTIER is
shown by contemporary evidence to have been just. On his father’s death
in 1482, both he and his State were confided to his cousin Ubaldini (see
note 273), who seems to have been loyal to the trust, although next heir
to the duchy. From records that have survived, Dennistoun extracts some
details of the young duke’s court: “To all persons composing the ducal
household, unexceptionable manners were indispensable. In those of
higher rank there were further required competent talents and learning,
a grave deportment, and fluency of speech. The servants must be of
steady habits and respectable character; regular in all private
transactions; of good address, modest and graceful; willing and neat
handed in their service. There is likewise inculcated the most
scrupulous personal cleanliness, especially of the hands, with
particular injunctions as to frequent ablutions, and extraordinary
precautions against the unpleasant effects of hot weather on their
persons and clothing; in case of need, medical treatment is enjoined to
correct the breath. Those who wore livery had two suits a year,
generally of fustian, though to some silk doublets were given for summer
use.”
In 1489 Guidobaldo married Elisabetta Gonzaga, a sister of the Marquess
of Mantua. All hopes, however, of an heir were soon abandoned,
apparently owing to the young duke’s physical infirmities, which were
increased by over exercise and in time unfitted him for all active
occupations. Nevertheless he was able to take part in the vain
resistance to Charles VIII's invasion of Italy, and later in the
expulsion of the French from the kingdom of Naples. While fighting in
the service of Pope Alexander VI in 1497, he was taken prisoner and
forced to pay a ransom of 30,000 ducats, a sum then equivalent to about
twice that number of modern pounds sterling, and raised only at the
sacrifice of his duchess’s jewels. In 1501 he aided rather than opposed
Louis XII's invasion of Naples.
In 1502 the pope’s son Cesare Borgia treacherously seized the Duchy of
Urbino. To spare his people bloodshed and ruin, Guidobaldo fled in
disguise to his brother-in-law at Mantua, and after a vain appeal to
Louis XII, found an honourable asylum at Venice. In the same year he
regained his dominions for a short time, but was again forced to take
flight. On the death of Alexander VI (August 1503), Cesare’s power
crumbled, Guidobaldo easily recovered his duchy, and his position was
soon assured by the election of Julius II, who was not only his personal
friend, but also the brother of his sister Giovanna’s husband. In 1504
he formally adopted as his heir this sister’s son, Francesco Maria della
Rovere, and (as we have seen) took into his service the future author of
THE COURTIER. His learning, amiability and munificence attracted choice
spirits to his court, which came to be regarded as the first in Italy.
Pope Julius was splendidly entertained there on his way both to and from
his Bologna campaign, and the Courtier dialogues are represented as
taking place immediately after his departure for Rome in March 1507.
Long an invalid, Guidobaldo became more and more a martyr to his gout,
which was aggravated by a season of exceptional drought and cold and
brought him final relief from suffering in April 1508. His fame rests,
not upon his military and political achievements, but upon the beauty of
his character, the variety of his intellectual accomplishments, the
patience with which he endured reverses, illness and forced inaction,
and upon the culture and refinement that characterized his court.
Note 3 page 1. FRANCESCO MARIA DELLA ROVERE, Duke of Urbino, (born 1490;
died 1538), was the son of Giovanni della Rovere and Duke Guidobaldo’s
sister Giovanna di Montefeltro. Giovanni was a nephew of Pope Sixtus IV
(who had made him Prefect of Rome), and a younger brother of Cardinal
Giuliano della Rovere, afterwards Pope Julius II.
On his father’s death in 1501, Francesco was brought to the court of his
uncle Guidobaldo, who secured for him a renewal of the Prefecture and
superintended his education. In THE COURTIER he appears as “my lord
Prefect.” During the Borgian usurpation of the duchy, he found refuge at
the court of Louis XII; and soon after the fall of the Borgias and his
uncle Julius II's accession, he was adopted as Guidobaldo’s heir, while
through the mediation of Castiglione a marriage was arranged for him
with Eleanora, daughter to the Marquess of Mantua and niece to the
Duchess of Urbino. He now resided chiefly with his uncle, acquainting
himself with his future subjects and duties. Although he possessed many
of the good qualities ascribed to him in THE COURTIER, his temper was
ungovernable, and before reaching the age of eighteen he slew one of the
members of the court, who was accused of seducing his sister.
Having become duke in 1508, he was married on Christmas Eve of that
year. In the following spring he commanded the papal forces in the
League of Cambray, and despite the obstacles put in his way by his
colleague Cardinal Alidosi (see note 268), he soon reduced the Romagna
towns, the recovery of which from Venice was Julius II's chief object in
forming the league. In a later campaign against the French, Bologna was
lost to the Church (1511) through the treachery of Alidosi, who craftily
contrived to have the blame fall upon Francesco, and was murdered by the
latter at Ravenna. After a long trial before six cardinals, in which
ample proof of the dead man’s treason was presented, and an eloquent
appeal made by Beroaldo (see note 235),—the young duke was acquitted and
restored to the pope’s favour.
Although both Francesco and his predecessor had generously befriended
the Medici during their exile from Florence (1494-1512), Leo X (Giovanni
de' Medici) seized his duchy in 1516, to bestow it on a nephew, Lorenzo
de' Medici. It is needless to speak here of Francesco’s restoration in
1521, of his failure to relieve Pope Clement VII when Rome was sacked in
1527, or of his later life.
While small in person, Francesco was active and well formed. His manners
were gentle and his character forgiving, in spite of his fiery temper.
Strict in religious observances and an enemy to blasphemous language, he
was also creditably intolerant of those outrages upon womanly honour
with which war was then fraught. He was famous chiefly as a soldier, and
by so competent a judge as the Emperor Charles V was regarded as master
of the military science of his day.
Note 4 page 1. This disclaimer of careful authorship is not to be taken
too literally. At least a draft of Books I-III seems to have been made
at Urbino between April 1508 and May 1509, while Book IV was probably
written at Rome in the earlier part of the interval between September
1513 and March 1516. Castiglione apparently continued to revise his work
until 1518, when he sent his MS. to Bembo. See Silvestro Marcello’s
pamphlet, “La Cronologia del Cortegiano di Baldesar Castiglione.” Pisa,
1895.
Note 5 page 1. As has been seen, Castiglione resided at the Spanish
court from 1524 until his death in 1529.
Note 6 page 1. VITTORIA COLONNA, (born 1490; died 1547), was the
daughter of Fabrizio Colonna (grand-nephew of Pope Martin V) and Agnese
di Montefeltro, a sister of Duke Guidobaldo. At the age of four she was
betrothed to the Marquess of Pescara, whom she married in her nineteenth
year at Ischia (the fief and residence of his family), and who
afterwards became a famous soldier. During his long absences in the
field, she consoled herself with books, and after his death in 1525, her
widowhood was spent in retirement and finally in semi-monastic seclusion
at Rome. The time spared from pious exercises she devoted to study, the
composition of poetry, correspondence with illustrious men of letters,
and the society of learned persons. Although she never became a convert
to Protestantism, the liberality of some of her friends’ belief exposed
her to ecclesiastical censure in her old age. Her celebrated friendship
with Michelangelo began when he was past sixty and she had nearly
reached fifty years. They frequently exchanged verses, and he is said to
have visited her on her death-bed. Her poems are chiefly sonnets to the
memory of her husband or verses on sacred and moral subjects.
Note 7 page 7. The following passage is from a letter written by
Castiglione to the Marchioness: “I am the more deeply obliged to your
Ladyship, because the necessity you have put me under, of sending the
book at once to the printer, relieves me from the trouble of adding many
things that I had already prepared in my mind,—things (I need hardly
say) of little import, like the rest of the book; so that your Ladyship
has saved the reader from tedium, and the author from blame.”
Despite the many decrees of popes, emperors and other potentates,
literary piracy seems to have been quite as common in Castiglione’s time
as in ours. He was obviously none too prompt in his precautions, as an
apparently unauthorized edition of THE COURTIER was issued at Florence
by the heirs of Filippo di Giunta in the October following its first
publication at Venice in April 1528.
Note 8 page 8. ALFONSO ARIOSTO, (died 1526), was a cousin of the poet
Ludovico. Little more seems to be known of him than that his father’s
name was Bonifazio, that he was a gentle cavalier and brave soldier in
the service of the Este family, and that he was a friend of Castiglione
and of Bembo. His name appears at the head of each of the four dialogues
composing THE COURTIER, and they purport to have been written at his
suggestion. Señor A. M. Fabié, in his notes to the 1873 reprint of
Boscan’s translation, affirms that Alfonso Ariosto had nothing to do
with the poet Ludovico, belonged to a noble Bolognese family, and
enjoyed much favour at the court of Francis I of France.
Note 9 page 9. GIULIANO DE' MEDICI, (born 1478; died 1516), was the
third son of Lorenzo the Magnificent and Clarice Orsini. His education
seems to have been for a time entrusted to the famous scholar-poet
Poliziano (see note 105). During his family’s exile from Florence
(1494-1512), he resided much at the court of Urbino, where he was known
as “the Magnifico Giuliano,” and where one wing of the great palace was
reserved to his use and is still called by his name. He became the
father of a boy afterwards known as Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici,—the
original of Titian’s fine portrait in the Pitti Gallery. On the
restoration of the Medici, Giuliano was placed at the head of affairs in
his native city and succeeded in winning the good will of the
Florentines, but his gentle disposition and love of ease thwarted other
ambitious projects formed for his advancement by his brother Leo X, and
he was too grateful to the dukes of Urbino for their hospitality to
accept the pope’s intended appropriation of their duchy for his benefit.
In 1515 he married Filiberta of Savoy and was created Duke of Nemours by
her nephew Francis I of France. In the same year he was appointed
Captain General of the Church, but failing health prevented his actual
service, and he soon died of fever at Florence, not without suspicion of
poison at the hands of his nephew Lorenzo.
Several of his sonnets have survived, and are said to show no mean
poetic faculty. Apart, however, from his appearance as an interlocutor
in THE COURTIER and in Bembo’s _Prose_, his memory is best preserved by
Michelangelo’s famous tomb at Florence.
[Illustration:
VITTORIA COLONNA
MARCHIONESS OF PESCARA
1490-1547
]
Much enlarged from a cast, kindly furnished by M. Pierre Valton, of an
anonymous medal in his collection at Paris.
Note 10 page 2. “MESSER BERNARDO” (DOVIZI), better known by the name of
his birthplace BIBBIENA, (born 1470; died 1520), was of humble
parentage. His elder brother Pietro was secretary to Lorenzo de' Medici,
and secured his admission to the Magnifico’s household, where he shared
the education of the young Giovanni and became a devoted friend of that
future pope. Following the Medici into exile, he travelled about Europe
with Giovanni and attended Giuliano to Urbino, where he received the
warm welcome always accorded there to such as combined learning with
courtly manners. By the Duke of Urbino he seems to have been so
commended to the favour of Julius II, that he was able to aid
Michelangelo in securing part payment for the Sistine Chapel frescoes,
of which payment, however, he accepted five per cent. as a gift from the
painter. At the death of Julius, he was secretary to his friend Cardinal
Giovanni de' Medici, and in that capacity had access to the conclave,
where his adroitness was largely helpful in effecting his patron’s
election as pope. Leo at once made him Cardinal of Santa Maria in
Portico and loaded him with lucrative offices. During the Medicean
usurpation of the Duchy of Urbino, he showed no gratitude for the
kindness enjoyed by him at that court. He became very rich, and was a
liberal patron of authors and artists. Raphael devised to him the house
of the architect Bramante, which the painter had bought for a sum
equivalent to about £6,000, and which was afterwards demolished in
extending the piazza in front of St. Peter’s.
Besides a large number of his letters, for the most part unpublished, we
have his play, _Calandra_, founded upon the _Menæchmi_ of Plautus and
once esteemed as the earliest Italian prose comedy.
Although he was bald, and although his friend Raphael’s portrait hardly
justifies the epithet, he was known as the “_Bel Bernardo_.” A
contemporary MS. in the Vatican describes him as “a facetious character,
with no mean powers of ridicule, and much tact in promoting jocular
conversation by his wit and well-timed jests. He was a great favourite
with certain cardinals, whose chief pursuit was pleasure and the chase,
for he thoroughly knew all their habits and fancies, and was even aware
of whatever vicious propensities they had. He likewise possessed a
singular pliancy for flattery, and for obsequiously accommodating
himself to their whims, stooping patiently to be the butt of insulting
and abusive jokes, and shrinking from nothing that could render him
acceptable to them. He also had much readiness in council, and was
perfectly able seasonably to qualify his wit with wisdom, or to
dissemble with singular cunning.” On the other hand, Bembo wrote of him
to their friend Federico Fregoso: “The days seem years until I see him,
and enjoy the pleasing society, the charming conversation, the wit, the
jests, the features and the affection of that man.”
Note 11 page 2. OTTAVIANO FREGOSO, (died 1524), belonged to a noble
Genoese family that had long distinguished itself in public service and
had furnished several doges to the Republic. His parents were Agostino
Fregoso and Gentile di Montefeltro, a half-sister of Duke Guidobaldo.
Driven from Genoa as early as 1497, he entered his uncle’s court at
Urbino and rendered important military services, especially during the
struggle with Cesare Borgia, in which he gallantly defended the fortress
of San Leo (see note 275), and was rewarded with the lordship of Santa
Agata in the Apennines. In 1506 he commanded the papal forces for the
recovery of Bologna, and later in the League of Cambray against Venice.
In 1513 he succeeded in putting an end to French domination in Genoa,
was elected doge, and ruled so beneficently for two years that when
Francis I regained the city, Fregoso was continued as governor. In 1522
Genoa was captured and sacked by Spanish and German troops, and Fregoso
given over to the Marquess of Pescara, treated harshly (despite
Castiglione’s intercession on his behalf), and carried to Ischia, where
he died.
Several stories of his absent-mindedness are narrated by Dennistoun, and
one illustrates the freedom of intercourse at the court of Urbino. His
uncle Guidobaldo appearing one day in a beautiful violet satin jerkin,
Ottaviano exclaimed: “My lord Duke, you really are _the_ handsome
Signor!” and then, on being reproved for flattery, he replied: “I did
not mean that you are a man of worth, though I pronounced you a fine man
and a handsome nobleman.”
Note 12 page 2. “MY LADY DUCHESS,” ELISABETTA GONZAGA, (born 1471; died
1526), was the second daughter of the Marquess Federico Gonzaga of
Mantua and Margarita of Bavaria. She married Duke Guidobaldo in 1489. In
1502 she reluctantly attended the festivities for the marriage, at
Ferrara, of Lucrezia Borgia to Alfonso d'Este, and some of her costumes
are thus described by an eye-witness: On entering Ferrara, she rode a
black mule caparisoned in black velvet embroidered with woven gold, and
wore a mantle of black velvet strewn with triangles of beaten gold, a
string of pearls about her neck, and a cap of gold; another day indoors
she wore a mantle of brown velvet slashed, and caught up with chains of
massive gold; another day a gown of black velvet striped with gold, with
a jewelled necklace and diadem; and still another day, a black velvet
robe embroidered with gold ciphers.
During the Borgian usurpation of their duchy in the same year, she
shared her husband’s exile at Venice, and on returning to Urbino earlier
than Guidobaldo, she amused herself with a scenic representation of the
chief events that had occurred during their absence. She cared for her
husband tenderly in his illnesses, administered his government wisely
when he was called away, and on his death acted as regent and guardian
for his nephew and successor, with whom she maintained affectionate
relations as long as she lived, and from appropriating whose dominions
she strove to the utmost to dissuade Leo X.
Next to her husband’s niece by marriage, Emilia Pia (see note 37), her
closest friend seems to have been her brother’s wife, the famous
Isabella d'Este (see note 397), with whom she often travelled and
continually corresponded by letter. Although still young and accounted
beautiful at her husband’s death, she remained faithful to his memory,
and the years of her widowhood were cheered by the companionship of her
niece, the young duchess Eleanora of Urbino (see note 432). If we may
trust universal contemporary opinion of her virtues and beauty, the
author of THE COURTIER flattered her as little as did the painter of her
portrait in the Uffizi Gallery.
[Illustration:
FEDERICO GONZAGA
MARQUESS OF MANTUA
FATHER OF “MY LADY DUCHESS”
1440-1484
]
Enlarged from a part of Alinari’s photograph (no. 18705) of the fresco,
“The Return of the Exile,” in the _Sala degli Sposi_ of the Gonzaga
Palace at Mantua, painted not later than 1474 by Andrea Mantegna
(1431-1506). See Heinrich Thode’s monograph on Mantegna, p. 56. For
a notice of the Marquess’s life see note 263.
Note 13 page 3. Vittoria Colonna seems to have had this passage in mind
when she wrote, 20 September 1524, to Castiglione in praise of his book:
“It would not be fitting for me to tell you what I think of it, for the
same reason which you say prevents you from speaking of the beauty of my
lady Duchess.”
Note 14 page 3. GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO, (born 1313; died 1375), was the
natural son of a Florentine tradesman and a Frenchwoman with whom his
father had made acquaintance during a business residence at Paris. In
early manhood he engaged in commerce at Naples, and had but little
learning in his youth, although he studied law for a time. Erudition and
authorship became the serious enthusiasm of his life, owing (it is said)
to a chance visit to the supposed tomb of Virgil at Naples. In middle
life he began the study of Greek at his friend Petrarch’s suggestion;
and although he never acquired more than what would now be deemed a
superficial knowledge of that language, as a Hellenist he had no
precursor in Italy. An ardent if somewhat unappreciative admirer of
Dante (whose _Divina Commedia_ he transcribed with his own hands), he
was the first Italian author to write for the common people, instead of
composing books suited only to the learned and patrician classes. His
style was formed by tireless study of classic models, and became a
standard for imitation by his successors.
Note 15 page 3. It is now known that the considerations that led
Boccaccio to underrate his poems and tales, were ethical rather than
literary.
Note 16 page 5. THEOPHRASTUS, (born 374; died 287 B.C.), was a native of
Lesbos, but resided at Athens. He was the chief disciple and successor
of Aristotle, and wrote also upon a great variety of subjects other than
philosophy. His best known work, the “Characters,” is a collection of
sprightly sketches of human types. La Bruyère’s famous book of the same
name was originally a mere translation from Theophrastus. The incident
mentioned in the text is thus described in Cicero’s _Brutus_: “When he
asked a certain old woman for how much she would sell something, and she
answered him and added, 'Stranger, it can’t be had for less,'—he was
vexed at being taken for a stranger although he had grown old at Athens
and spoke to perfection.”
Note 17 page 5. I. e., pages 39-54.
Note 18 page 5. The reference here is to Plato’s “Republic,” Xenophon’s
_Cyropædia_, and Cicero’s _De Oratore_.
Note 19 page 6. In the letter quoted in note 13, Vittoria Colonna wrote:
“I do not marvel at your portraying a perfect courtier well, for by
merely holding a mirrour before you and considering your inward and
outward parts, you could describe him as you have; but our greatest
difficulty being to know ourselves, I say that it was more difficult for
you to portray yourself than another man.”
[Illustration:
FEDERICO DI MONTEFELTRO
DUKE OF URBINO
1422-1482
]
Reduced from Alinari’s photograph (no. 2686) of a marble bas-relief, in
the National Museum at Florence, by some attributed to Mino da
Fiesole (1431-1484).
Note 20 page 6. More than 140 editions of THE COURTIER have been
published. Most of these are mentioned in the list printed before the
Index of this volume. A few of the editions there set down differ from
one another only in title-page; a few others, perhaps, exist only in
some bibliographer’s erroneous mention. Deductions to be made for such
reasons, however, are probably offset by other editions that the present
translator has failed to bring to light.
In the bibliographical notes appended by the brothers Volpi to their
(1733) edition, THE COURTIER is said to have been translated into
Flemish; while in his preface to the Sonzogno (1890) edition, Corio
speaks of the introduction of the book into Japan in the 17th century,
and also of a Russian translation by Archiuzow.
NOTES TO THE FIRST BOOK OF THE COURTIER
Note 21 page 7. “Courtiership” is a sadly awkward rendering of the
Italian _cortegiania_, which implies not only courtesy and courtliness,
but all the many other qualities and accomplishments essential to the
perfect Courtier or (what in Castiglione’s time was the same) the
perfect Gentleman.
Note 22 page 8. The extreme dimensions of the Duchy of Urbino were 64
miles from east to west, and 60 miles from north to south. Its
population did not much exceed 150,000.
Note 23 page 8. The first of the four dialogues is represented as having
been held on the evening of the day after the close of a certain visit
paid by Pope Julius II to Urbino on his return from a successful
campaign against Bologna. This visit is known to have lasted from 3
March to 7 March 1507. Castiglione returned from England as early as 5
March, on which date he wrote to his mother from Urbino: “We have had
his Holiness here for two days.” It seems probable that this fictitious
prolongation of his absence in England was simply a graceful excuse for
not himself appearing in the dialogues.
Note 24 page 8. There were a fief and Count of Montefeltro as early as
1154, and his son was made Count of Urbino in 1216, from which time
their male descendants ruled over a gradually increased territory until
1508, when the duchy passed to the female line. The name Montefeltro is
said to have originated in that of a temple to Jupiter Feretrius, which
in Roman times occupied the summit of the crag afterwards known as San
Leo, in the Duchy of Urbino.
Note 25 page 9. Such a rule as that of the usurping Cesare Borgia
(1502-3) can hardly have been welcome to a population accustomed to the
mild sway of the Montefeltro family.
Note 26 page 9. “DUKE FEDERICO” DI MONTEFELTRO, (born 1422; died 1482),
was a natural son of Count Guidantonio di Montefeltro, as appears from
the act of legitimation issued by Pope Martin V and also from his
father’s testament, by virtue whereof (as well as by the choice of the
people) he succeeded his half-brother Count Oddantonio in 1444. In his
boyhood he resided fifteen months as a hostage at Venice. Later he
studied the theory and practice of war at the Mantuan court, and was
trained in the humanities by the famous Vittorino da Feltre. In 1437 he
married Gentile Brancaleone, who died childless in 1457. Nearly the
whole of his life was spent in military service, as paid ally, now of
one prince, now of another. In this capacity he became not only the most
noted commander of his time, but always displayed perfect and
exceptional fidelity to the causes that he undertook. In 1450 he lost an
eye and suffered a fracture of the nose in a tournament; contemporary
portraits represent his features in profile. In 1454 he began the
construction of the great palace at Urbino. In 1460, at the suggestion
of Francesco Sforza (whom he had aided to become Duke of Milan), he
married the latter’s accomplished niece Battista Sforza, who bore him
seven daughters and one son, Guidobaldo. In 1474 he was made Duke of
Urbino and appointed Captain General of the Church by Pope Sixtus IV,
and was unanimously elected a Knight of the Garter. He died of fever
contracted during military operations in the malarial country near
Ferrara. The vast sums spent by him on public buildings, art objects and
books, and upon the maintenance of his splendid household, were not
extorted from his subjects, but were received from foreign states in
return for war service. Thus at the close of his life he drew a yearly
stipend equivalent to about £330,000.
It is not easy to draw a picture of his character that shall seem
unflattered. Vespasiano, who by years of labour collected his famous
library for him, says that his “establishment was conducted with the
regularity of a religious fraternity, rather than like a military
household. Gambling and profanity were unknown, and singular decorum of
language was observed, whilst many noble youths, sent there to learn
good manners and military discipline, were reared under the most
exemplary tuition. He regarded his subjects as his children, and was at
all times accessible to hear them personally state their petitions,
being careful to give answers without unnecessary delay. He walked
freely about the streets, entering their shops and workrooms, and
enquiring into their circumstances with paternal interest.... In summer
he was in the saddle at dawn, and rode three or four miles into the
country with half-a-dozen of his court ... reaching home again when
others were just up. After mass, he went into an open garden and gave
audience to all comers until breakfast-time. When at table, he listened
to the Latin historians, chiefly Livy, except in Lent, when some
religious book was read, anyone being free to enter the hall and speak
with him then. His fare was plain and substantial, denying himself sweet
dishes and wine, except drinks of pomegranates, cherries, apples, or
other fruits. After dinner and supper, an able judge of appeal stated in
Latin the causes brought before him, on which the duke gave judgment in
that language;... When his mid-day meal was finished, if no one appeared
to ask audience, he retired to his closet and transacted private
business, or listened to reading until evening approached, when he
generally walked out, giving patient ear to all who accosted him in the
streets. He then occasionally visited ... a meadow belonging to the
Franciscans, where thirty or forty of the youths brought up in his court
stripped their doublets, and played at throwing the bar, or at
wrestling, or ball. This was a fine sight, which the duke much enjoyed,
encouraging the lads, and listening freely to all until supper-time.
When that and the audiences were over, he repaired to a private
apartment with his principal courtiers, whom, after some familiar talk,
he would dismiss to bed, taxing them with their sluggish indulgence of a
morning.”
[Illustration:
ALFONSO II OF NAPLES
1448-1495
]
Enlarged from a negative, specially made by Alinari through the courtesy
of Professor I. B. Supino, of a medal, in the National Museum at
Florence, by Andrea Guazzalotti (1435-1495). See Armand’s _Les
Médailleurs Italiens_, i, 48, no. 1.
Note 27 page 9. In a Greek epigram written in a book borrowed from Duke
Guidobaldo, Poliziano (see note 105) praises the lender as the worthy
son of a father who never suffered defeat, ἀνικήτοιο πατρὸς γονόν.
History shows that this phrase was a rhetorical exaggeration, but it
became almost proverbial.
Note 28 page 9. Although long since despoiled of its treasures, the
palace is still one of the architectural monuments of Italy. Many
writers have described its magnificence,—some of the fullest accounts
being those by Bernardino Baldi (1553-1617); Fr. Arnold (_Der
Herzogliche Palast von Urbino_; Leipsic: 1857); J. A. Symonds (“Italian
Byways;” London: 1883; pp. 129-155); Charles Blanc (_Histoire de la
Renaissance Artistique en Italie_; Paris: 1894; ii, 87-90); and Egidio
Calzini (_Urbino e i Suoi Monumenti_; Florence: 1899; pp. 9-46). Baldi’s
description will be found reprinted as an appendix to Rigutini’s (1889
and 1892) editions of THE COURTIER.
For more than fourteen years Duke Federico employed from thirty to forty
copyists in transcribing Greek and Latin MSS. Not only the classics, but
ecclesiastical and mediæval authors, as well as the Italian poets and
humanists were represented in his library, which contained 792 MSS.
Ultimately the collection was sent to Rome, where it forms part of the
Vatican Library.
Note 29 page 9. Born in 1422, Duke Federico was in fact sixty years old
when he died.
Note 30 page 9. In his Latin epistle to Henry VII of England,
Castiglione says that Duke Guidobaldo began to be afflicted with gout at
the age of twenty-one years.
Note 31 page 10. ALFONSO II of Naples, (born 1448; died 1495), was the
eldest son of Ferdinand I and Isabelle de Clermont. As Duke of Calabria,
commanding the papal forces, he defeated the Florentine league in 1479,
and in 1481 drove the Turks out of southern Italy. On his father’s death
in 1494, he succeeded to the crown of Naples; but having rendered
himself obnoxious to his subjects, he abdicated in favour of his son
Ferdinand just before the arrival of Charles VIII of France, and took
refuge in a Sicilian convent, where he soon died, tortured by remorse
for the hideous cruelties that he had perpetrated. His wife was Ippolita
Maria, daughter of the first Sforza duke of Milan; while his daughter
Isabella’s marriage to Giangaleazzo Sforza, the rightful duke, and the
usurpation of the latter’s uncle Ludovico “il Moro” (see note 302),
became the immediate cause of the first French invasion of Italy by
Charles VIII.
Note 32 page 10. FERDINAND II of Naples, (born 1469; died childless
1496), made a gallant but vain stand against the French, and retired to
Ischia with his youthful wife-aunt Joanna. When Charles VIII evacuated
Naples after a stay of only fifty days, Ferdinand was soon able, with
the help of his cousin Ferdinand the Catholic’s famous general Consalvo
de Cordova, to regain his dominions, but died a few weeks later. He
seems to have had no lack of courage; by his mere presence he once
overawed a mob at Naples, and he was beloved by the nation in spite of
the odious tyranny of his father and grandfather.
Note 33 page 10. Pope ALEXANDER VI, (born 1431; died 1503), was
Roderigo, the son of Giuffredo (or Alfonso) Lenzuoli and Juana (or
Isabella) Borgia, a sister of Pope Calixtus III, by whom the youth was
adopted and whose surname he assumed. He was elected pope in 1492
through bribery, and while striving to increase the temporal power of
the Church, directed his chief efforts towards the establishment of a
great hereditary dominion for his family. Of his five children, two
(Cesare and Lucrezia) played important parts in his plan. In 1495 he
joined the league which forced Charles VIII to retire from Italy,
although it had been partly at his instigation that the French invaded
the peninsula. In 1498 Savonarola was burned at Florence by his orders.
In 1501 he instituted the ecclesiastical censorship of books. He is
believed to have died from accidentally taking a poison designed by him
for a rich cardinal whose possessions he wished to seize. His private
life was disgraced by orgies, of which the details are unfit for
repetition. His contemporary Machiavelli says: “His entire occupation,
his only thought, was deception, and he always found victims. Never was
there a man with more effrontery in assertion, more ready to add oaths
to his promises, or to break them.” While Sismondi terms him “the most
odious, the most publicly scandalous, and the most wicked of all the
miscreants who ever misused sacred authority to outrage and degrade
mankind.”
[Illustration:
FERDINAND II OF NAPLES
1469?-1496
]
From Alinari’s photograph (no. 11305) of an anonymous bronze bust in the
National Museum at Naples.
Note 34 page 10. Pope JULIUS II, (born 1443; died 1513), was Giuliano,
the second son of Raffaele della Rovere (only brother of Pope Sixtus IV)
and Teodora Menerola. Made a cardinal soon after his uncle’s election,
he was loaded with sees and offices, including the legateship of Picene
and Avignon, which latter occasioned his prolonged absence from Italy
and afforded him an escape from the wiles of his inveterate enemy
Alexander VI. The outrages with which Alexander sought to punish his
sturdy opposition to the scandals of the Borgian court, aroused in him a
fierceness of spirit that was alien to the seeming mildness of his early
character and became the bane of his own pontificate. His younger
brother Giovanni married a sister of Duke Guidobaldo, a union that
cemented the friendship between the two families and furnished the Duchy
of Urbino an heir in the person of Francesco Maria della Rovere. When
Julius engaged Michelangelo to design his tomb, the old basilica of St.
Peter’s was found too small to contain it, whereupon the pontiff is said
to have decreed that a new church be built to receive it, and blessed
the laying of the first stone shortly before setting out on his campaign
against Bologna in 1506. In 1508 he formed the League of Cambray for the
recovery of certain papal fiefs appropriated by Venice at the time of
Cesare Borgia’s downfall, and in 1511 the so-called Holy League for the
expulsion of the French from Italy. Italian unity was the unavowed but
real goal at which his policy aimed.
Although a munificent patron of art and letters, Julius was frugal and
severe,—a man of action rather than a scholar or theologian. In giving
Michelangelo directions for the huge bronze statue at Bologna, he said:
“Put a sword in my hand; of letters I know nothing.” Another of his
reported sayings is: “If we are not ourselves pious, why should we
prevent others from being so?”
Note 35 page 10. Although unexpressed in the original, the word
‘learned’ seems necessary to complete the obvious meaning of the
passage.
From his tutor Odasio of Padua, we learn that in his boyhood Guidobaldo
was even for the time exceptionally fond of study. He could repeat whole
treatises by heart ten years after reading them, and never forgot what
he resolved to retain. Besides his classical attainments, he appreciated
the Italian poets, and showed peculiar aptitude for philosophy and
history.
Note 36 page 10. The Italian _piacevolezza_ conveys somewhat the same
suggestion of humour which the word ‘pleasantness’ carried with it to
the English of Elizabeth’s time, and which still survives in our
‘pleasantry.’
Note 37 page 11. EMILIA PIA, (died 1528), was the youngest daughter of
Marco Pio, one of the lords of Carpi. Her brother Giberto married a
natural daughter of Cardinal Ippolito d'Este (see note 64), while her
cousin Alberto Pio (1475-1530) was the pupil and became the patron and
financial supporter of the scholar-printer Aldus Manutius. In 1487 she
was married very young to the studious Count Antonio di Montefeltro (a
natural half-brother of Duke Guidobaldo), who left her a widow in 1500.
She resided at Urbino and became the trusted and inseparable companion
of the Duchess Elisabetta, whom she accompanied on journeys and in
exile, ever faithful in misfortune and sorrow. In the duchess’s
testament she was named as legatee and executrix. She seems to have died
without the sacraments of the Church, while discussing passages of the
newly published COURTIER with Count Ludovico Canossa. The part taken by
her in these dialogues evinces the charm of her winning manners as well
as her possession of a variety of knowledge and graceful accomplishment
rare even in that age of womanly genius. Always ready to lead or second
the learned and sportive pastimes by which the court circle of Urbino
gave zest to their intercourse and polish to their wit, she was of
infinite service to the duchess, whose own acquirements were of a less
brilliant kind.
Note 38 page 11. It may be doubted whether the duchess’s influence
always availed to secure what we should now regard as decorous behaviour
at her court, and in an earlier draft of THE COURTIER Castiglione
allowed himself a freedom, not to say licence, of expression singularly
in contrast with the general tone of the version published.
Note 39 page 12. The duchess and her husband were expelled from their
dominions by Cesare Borgia in 1502, and again in 1516 she was compelled
to leave Urbino for a longer time, when Leo X seized the duchy for his
nephew Lorenzo de' Medici. Her conduct on these occasions showed rare
fortitude and dignity.
Note 40 page 12. These devices, so much in vogue during the 16th century
in Italy, were the “inventions” which Giovio (a contemporary writer upon
the subject) says “the great lords and noble cavaliers of our time like
to wear on their armour, caparisons and banners, to signify a part of
their generous thoughts.” They consisted of a figure or picture, and a
motto nearly always in Latin. The fashion is said to have been copied
from the French at the time of the invasions of Charles VIII and Louis
XII.
Note 41 page 12. FEDERICO FREGOSO, (born 1480; died 1541), was a younger
brother of Ottaviano (see note 11), and was educated for holy orders
under the direction of his uncle Duke Guidobaldo, at whose court he also
perfected himself in worldly accomplishments. In 1507 Julius II made him
Archbishop of Salerno, in the kingdom of Naples, but, owing to his
supposed French sympathies, he was not allowed to enjoy this benefice,
and the next year was put in charge of the bishopric of Gubbio. In the
same year he was sent by Julius with the latter’s physician to attend
Duke Guidobaldo’s death-bed, but arrived too late. During the nine years
that followed his brother’s election as Doge of Genoa (1513), he by
turns commanded the army of the Republic, led her fleet against the
Barbary pirates (whom he routed in their own harbours), and represented
her at the papal court. During the Spanish siege of Genoa in 1522, he
escaped to France, was warmly received by Francis I, and made Abbot of
St. Bénigne at Dijon, where he devoted himself to theological study. In
1528 he returned to Italy and was appointed to the see of Gubbio. His
piety and zeal for the welfare of his flock won for him the title of
“father to the poor and refuge of the distressed.” In 1539 he was made a
cardinal, and two years later died at Gubbio, being succeeded in that
see by his friend Bembo. After his death, a discourse of his on prayer
happening to be reprinted together with a work by Luther, he was for a
time erroneously supposed to have been heretical. He was a profound
student of Hebrew, and an appreciative collector of Provençal poetry.
His own writings are chiefly doctrinal, and his reputation rests rather
upon his friends’ praise of his wit, gentleness, personal
accomplishments and learning, than upon the present value of his extant
works.
Note 42 page 12. PIETRO BEMBO, (born at Venice 1470; died at Rome 1547),
was the son of a noble Venetian, Bernardo Bembo (a man of much
cultivation, who paid for the restoration of Dante’s tomb at Ravenna),
and Elena Marcella. Having received his early education at Florence,
where his father was Venetian ambassador, he studied Greek at Messina
under Lascaris (a native of Hellas, whose grammar of that tongue was the
first Greek book ever printed, 1476), and philosophy at Padua and
Ferrara, where his father was Venetian envoy and introduced him to the
Este court. Here he became acquainted with Lucrezia Borgia, who had
recently wedded Duke Ercole’s son Alfonso, and to whom he dedicated his
dialogues on love, _Gli Asolani_. By some writers indeed he is said to
have been her lover, but the report is hardly confirmed by the character
of the letters exchanged between the two, 1503-1516. Having been
entertained at Urbino in 1505, he spent the larger part of the next six
years at that court, where he profited by the fine library, delighted in
many congenial spirits, and became the close friend of Giuliano de'
Medici, who took him to Rome in 1512 and recommended him to the future
pope, Leo X. On attaining the tiara, Leo at once appointed him and his
friend Sadoleto (see note 242) papal secretaries, an office for which
his learning and courtly accomplishments well fitted him. His laxity of
morals and his paganism were no disqualification in the eyes of the
pope, whom he served also in several diplomatic missions, and from whom
he received benefices and pensions sufficient to enrich him for life. In
1518 his friend Castiglione sent him the MS. of THE COURTIER, requesting
him to “take the trouble ... to read it either wholly or in part,” and
to give his opinion of it. Ten years later, when the book was printed,
it was Bembo to whom the proofs were sent for correction, the author
being absent in Spain. Even before the death of Leo X in 1521, Bembo had
entered upon a life of literary retirement at Padua, where his library
and art collection, as well as the learned society that he drew about
him, rendered his house famous. Nor was it less esteemed by reason of
the presence, at its head, of an avowed mistress (Morosina), who bore
him several children. After her death, he devoted himself to theology,
entered holy orders, reluctantly accepted a cardinal’s hat in 1539, and
in 1541 succeeded his friend Fregoso in the bishopric of Gubbio, to
which was added that of Bergamo. His death was occasioned by a fall from
his horse, and he was buried at Rome in the Minerva church, between his
patrons Leo X and Clement VII. His works are noteworthy less for their
substance than for the refining influence exerted by their form. He is
said to have subjected all his writings to sixteen (some say forty)
separate revisions, and a legend survives to the effect that he advised
a young cleric (Sadoleto) to avoid reading the Epistles of St. Paul,
lest they might mar the youth’s style. His numerous private and official
letters have preserved many valuable facts and furnish interesting
illustration of contemporary manners and character. Humboldt praises him
as the first Italian author to write attractive descriptions of natural
scenery, and cites especially his dialogue on Mt. Ætna.
[Illustration:
GIACOMO SADOLETO
1477-1547
]
Head enlarged from a photograph, specially made by Alinari, of a part of
the fresco, “Leo X's Entry into Florence,” in the Palazzo Vecchio at
Florence, by Giorgio Vasari (1511-1574). See Milanesi’s edition of
Vasari’s _Opere_, viii, 142. The chief facts of his life are given
in note 242, at page 369 of this volume.
Note 43 page 12. CESARE GONZAGA, (born about 1475; died 1512), was a
native of Mantua, being descended from a younger branch of the ruling
family of that city, and a cousin of Castiglione, with whom he
maintained a close friendship. His father’s name was Giampietro, and he
had a brother Luigi. Having received a courtly and martial education at
Milan, and after spending some time with his relatives at Mantua, he
entered the service of Duke Guidobaldo of Urbino. In 1504 he shared
Castiglione’s lodgings after their return from a campaign against Cesare
Borgia’s strongholds in Romagna, and in the carnival of 1506 they
together recited Castiglione’s eclogue _Tirsi_, in the authorship of
which he is by some credited with a part. A graceful canzonet, preserved
in Atanagi’s _Rime Scelte_, attests his skill in versification. On
Guidobaldo’s death in 1508, the two friends remained in the service of
the new duke, Francesco Maria. In 1511 Cesare fought bravely against the
French at Mirandola, and the next year took part in the reduction of
Bologna, where he soon died of an acute fever. Little more is known of
him, beyond the fact that he was a knight of St. John of Jerusalem, that
Leo X sent him on a mission to Charles V of Spain, and that he was among
the many friends of the famous Isabella d'Este (see note 397).
Note 44 page 12. Count LUDOVICO DA CANOSSA, (born 1476; died 1532),
belonged to a noble Veronese family (still honourably extant), and was a
close friend of Castiglione and a cousin of the latter’s mother. His
boyhood was passed at Mantua, and his happiest years at Urbino, where he
was received in 1496. In the pontificate of Julius II he went to Rome,
and was made Bishop of Tricarico, in southern Italy, 1511. Under Leo X
he was entrusted with several embassies, one of which (1514) was to
England to reconcile Henry VIII with Louis XII, and another (1515) was
to the new French king, Francis I, at whose court he continued to
reside, and through whose influence he was made Bishop of Bayeux in
1516. In 1526 and 1527 he served as French ambassador to Venice. His
ability and zeal as a diplomatist are shown not only by the importance
of the posts that he held, but by his numerous letters that have been
preserved. At the time of his friend Bibbiena’s death in 1520, Canossa
remarked that it was a fixed belief among the French that every man of
rank who died in Italy was poisoned.
Note 45 page 12. GASPAR PALLAVICINO, (born 1486; died 1511), was a
descendant of the marquesses of Cortemaggiore, near Piacenza. He appears
in THE COURTIER as the youthful woman-hater of the company, and was a
friend of Castiglione and Bembo. For an interesting discussion of his
rôle in the dialogues, see Miss Scott’s paper, cited above (page 316).
Note 46 page 12. LUDOVICO PIO belonged to the famous family of the lords
of Carpi (a few miles north of Modena), and was a brave captain in the
service of the Aragonese princes, of Duke Ludovico Sforza of Milan, and
of Pope Julius II. His father Leonello and more celebrated uncle Alberto
had been pupils of Aldus, and were second cousins of Emilia Pia. His
wife was the beautiful Graziosa Maggi of Milan, who is immortalized in
the paintings of Francia and the writings of Bembo.
Note 47 page 12. SIGISMONDO MORELLO DA ORTONA is presented in THE
COURTIER as the only elderly member of the company, and the object of
many youthful jests. He is known to have taken part in the ceremony of
the formal adoption of Francesco Maria della Rovere as heir to the duchy
in 1504, is referred to in Castiglione’s _Tirsi_, and seems to have been
something of a musician.
[Illustration:
LOUIS XII OF FRANCE
1462-1515
]
Much enlarged from a negative, specially made by Berthaud, of a part of
a pen-drawing in the National Library at Paris. The drawing is
touched with gold, and forms part of a series illustrating a MS.
chronicle (nos. 20360-2) engrossed at Genoa in 1510 by Anthoine
Bardin. See note 250.
Note 48 page 12. Of ROBERTO DA BARI little more is known than that his
surname was MASSIMO, and that he was taken ill in the campaign of 1510
against the Venetians and retired to Mantua. Thither Castiglione sent a
letter to his mother, warmly recommending Roberto to her hospitality,
and saying that he loved the man like a brother.
Note 49 page 12. BERNARDO ACCOLTI, (born about 1465; died 1535), was
generally known as the UNICO ARETINO, from the name of his birthplace
(Arezzo) and in compliment to his ‘unique’ faculty for extemporising
verse. His father Benedetto was a jurist, and the author of a dull Latin
history of the First Crusade, from which Tasso is believed to have drawn
material for the _Gerusalemme Liberata_. His poetical celebrity
commended him to the court of Urbino, where (as at Rome and in other
places) he was in the habit of reciting his verses to vast audiences of
rich and poor alike. When an exhibition by him was announced, guards had
to be set to restrain the crowds that rushed to secure places, the shops
were closed, and the streets emptied. His life was a kind of lucrative
poetic vagabondage: thus we find him flourishing, caressed and
applauded, at the courts of Urbino, Mantua, Naples, and especially at
that of Leo X, who bestowed many offices upon him, of which, however,
his wealth (acquired by his recitations) rendered him independent,
enabling him to indulge in a life of literary ease. His elder brother
Pietro became a cardinal, bought Raphael’s house, and is said to have
had a hand in drafting the papal bull against Luther in 1520. He was an
early patron of his notorious fellow-townsman Pietro Aretino. Such of
his verse as has survived is so bald and stilted as to excite no little
wonderment at the esteem which he enjoyed among his contemporaries. In
THE COURTIER he poses as the sentimental and afflicted lover, the
“slayer” of duchesses and other noble ladies, who (according to his own
account) kept flocking in his train, but who more probably were often
making sport of him.
Note 50 page 12. GIANCRISTOFORO ROMANO, (born about 1465; died 1512),
was the son of Isaia di Pippo of Pisa and the pupil of Paolo Romano.
Perhaps best known as a sculptor, he possessed skill also as a
goldsmith, medallist, architect and crystal carver, cultivated music and
wrote verse. During the last years of the Sforza power at Milan, he
accompanied the duke’s wife, Beatrice d'Este, from place to place, and
is now identified as the author of her portrait bust in the Louvre. He
executed also at least two portrait medals of her sister Isabella
d'Este, acted as adviser and agent of the Gonzagas in the purchase of
art objects, worked at Venice, Cremona, Rome and Naples, and is known to
have been at Urbino about the time of the Courtier dialogues. In a long
letter written by him to Bembo in 1510, he describes the court of Urbino
as “a true temple of chastity, decorum and pudicity.” In 1512 he was
directing architect at Loreto (see note 311), where he died in May,
bequeathing his collection of medals and antiques to a hospital, for the
purpose of having three masses said weekly for the repose of his soul.
Note 51 page 12. Of PIETRO MONTE little more is known than that he was a
master of military exercises at the Urbino court, and perhaps a captain
in the duke’s army. He may have been identical with one Pietro dal
Monte, who is mentioned as a soldier in the pay of Venice (1509), and
described as “blind in one eye, but of great valour, gentle speech, and
not unlearned in letters,” and as “commanding 1500 infantry, and a man
of great experience not only in war but in affairs of the world.”
Note 52 page 12. ANTONIO MARIA TERPANDRO, one of the most jovial and
welcome visitors at Urbino, is said by Dennistoun to have been a musical
ornament of the court. He enjoyed the heartiest friendship of Bembo and
Bibbiena.
Note 53 page 12. NICCOLῸ FRISIO or FRIGIO is mentioned in a letter by
Bembo as a German, but seems more probably to have been an Italian.
Dennistoun speaks of him as a musician. In a letter from Castiglione to
his mother (1506), the writer warmly commends to her “one messer Niccolò
Frisio, who I hear is there [i.e., in Mantua], and I earnestly hope that
you will treat him kindly, for I am under the greatest obligation to him
with respect to my Roman illness.... I am sure he loves me well.” In
another letter by a friend of Bembo, Frisio is described (1509) as an
Italian long resident in courts, sure of heart, gentle, a good linguist,
faithful to his employers, and as having been used by Julius II in
negotiating the League of Cambray against Venice. He had relations also
with the marchioness Isabella of Mantua (see note 397), whom he aided in
the collection of antiquities. Growing weary of worldly life, he became
a monk in 1510, and retired to the Certosa of Naples.
Note 54 page 12. According to Cian, _omini piacevoli_ (rendered
‘agreeable men’) here means ‘buffoons.’
Note 55 page 13. This passage establishes the date of the first dialogue
as 8 March 1507.
Note 56 page 13. My lady Emilia contends that she has already told her
choice of a game, in proposing that the rest of the company should tell
theirs.
Note 57 page 14. COSTANZA FREGOSA was a sister of the two Fregoso
brothers already mentioned, and a faithful companion of the Duchess of
Urbino. She married Count Marcantonio Landi of Piacenza, and bore him
two worthy children, Agostino and Caterina, to the former of whom Bembo
stood sponsor and became a kind of second father. Three letters by the
lady have been preserved.
Note 58 page 15. Belief in the efficacy of music as a cure for the bite
of the tarantula still survives in Andalusia, Sardinia and parts of
southern Italy. In a note on the tarantella dance, Goethe wrote: “It has
been remarked that in the case of mental ailments, and of a tarantula
bite, which is probably cured by perspiration, the movements of this
dance have a very salutary effect on the softer sex.” “Travels in Italy”
(Ed. Bohn, 1883), page 564.
Note 59 page 15. The _moresca_ (mime or morris-dance) seems to have been
a kind of ballet or story in dance, often very intricate and fanciful.
At the courts of this period, it was generally introduced as an
interlude between the acts of a comedy. In a letter quoted by Dennistoun
(“Memoirs of the Dukes of Urbino,” ii, 141), Castiglione describes a
_moresca_ on the story of Jason, which was thus performed at the first
presentation of Bibbiena’s _Calandra_ before the court of Urbino, 6
February 1513.
Note 60 page 16. FRA MARIANO FETTI, (born 1460; died 1531), was a native
of Florence, and beginning life as a barber to Lorenzo de' Medici,
always remained faithful to that family. At Rome, during the pontificate
of Julius II, he won the reputation and enjoyed the privileges of “the
prince of jesters,” and became even more famous under Leo X, upon whom
as a child he had bestowed affectionate care, and who as pope did not
forget his kindness. Thus in 1514 he was made _Frate piombatore_, or
affixer of lead seals to papal bulls, in which office he followed the
architect Bramante, was succeeded by the painter Sebastiano Luciani
(better known as “del Piombo”), and admitted earning yearly what would
now be the equivalent of about £1600, by turning lead into gold. While
it remains uncertain whether he was more buffoon or friar, he had a
great love for artists, and even composed verse. He seems to have
continued in the enjoyment of fame and favour during the reign of the
second Medicean pope, Clement VII.
Note 61 page 16. FRA SERAFINO was probably a Mantuan, and had a brother
Sebastiano. He lived long at the Gonzaga court, where he was employed in
organizing festivals, and at Urbino, where the few of his letters that
have survived show him in familiar relations with other interlocutors in
THE COURTIER. While at Rome in 1507, with the suite of the Duchess of
Urbino, he was seriously wounded in the head by an unknown assailant,
probably in return for some lampoon or scandal of his against the papal
court.
Note 62 page 17. This letter S was evidently one of the golden ciphers
that ladies of the period were fond of wearing on a circlet about their
heads. In her portrait the duchess is represented as wearing a narrow
band, from which the image of a scorpion hangs upon her forehead. The S
may have been used on this occasion as the initial letter of the word
scorpion, and seems in any case to have been an instance of the
‘devices’ mentioned in note 40.
A sonnet, purporting to be the work of the Unico Aretino, was inserted
in the edition of THE COURTIER published by Rovillio at Lyons in 1562
and in several later editions, as being the sonnet here mentioned. In
its place, however, Cian prints another sonnet, preserved in the
Marciana Library at Venice and possessing higher claims to authenticity.
Some idea of the baldness of both may be gained from the following crude
but tolerably literal translation of the second sonnet:
Consent, O Sea of beauty and virtue,
That I, thy slave, may of great doubt be freed,
Whether the S thou wearest on thy candid brow
Signifies my Suffering or my Salvation,
Whether it means Succour or Servitude,
Suspicion or Security, Secret or Silliness,
Whether ’Spectation or Shriek, whether Safe or Sepultured!
Whether my bonds be Strait or Severed:
For much I fear lest it give Sign
Of Stateliness, Sighing, Severity,
Scorn, Slash, Sweat, Stress and Spite.
But if for naked truth a place there be,
This S shows with no little art
A Sun single in beauty and in cruelty.
Note 63 page 18. The pains of love were a frequent theme with Bembo, and
are elaborately set forth in his _Gli Asolani_. Quite untranslatable
into English, his play upon the words _amore_ (love) and _amaro_
(bitter) is at least as old as Plautus’s _Trinummus_.
Note 64 page 22. IPPOLITO D'ESTE, (born 1479; died 1520), was the third
son of Duke Ercole I of Ferrara (see note 203) and Eleanora of Aragon
(see note 399). At the instance of his maternal aunt Beatrice’s husband,
King Matthias Corvinus of Hungary (see note 395), he was given the rich
archbishopric of Strigonio, to which was attached the primacy of that
country, and made the journey thither as a mere boy. In 1493 Alexander
VI made him a cardinal. Soon after the death of his sister Beatrice, her
husband Duke Ludovico Sforza of Milan gave him the vacant archbishopric
of that city, and the same year (1497) he exchanged the Hungarian
primacy, with its burdensome requirement of foreign residence, for the
bishopric of Agria in Crete. In 1502 he was made Archbishop of Capua in
the kingdom of Naples, but bestowed the revenues of the see upon his
widowed and impoverished aunt, the ex-Queen of Hungary, and a little
later was made Bishop of Ferrara,—all before reaching the age of
twenty-four years. He was also Bishop of Modena and Abbot of Pomposa.
During his brother’s reign at Ferrara, the young cardinal took an active
part in public affairs, several times governing in the duke’s absence,
and showing brilliant capacities for military command. After the
accession of Leo X, he resided chiefly at Rome, where he was always a
conspicuous figure and carefully guarded his brother’s interests. He was
a friend and protector of Leonardo da Vinci, and maintained Ariosto in
his service from 1503 to 1517. A prelate only in name, regarding his
many ecclesiastical offices merely as a source of wealth, he united the
faults and vices to the grace and culture of his time.
Note 65 page 26. BERTO was probably one of the many buffoons about the
papal court in the time of Julius II and Leo X. He is again mentioned in
the text (page 128) for his powers of mimicry, etc.
[Illustration:
MATTHIAS CORVINUS OF HUNGARY
1443-1490
]
Much enlarged from a cast, courteously furnished by the Austrian
authorities, of an anonymous medal in the Imperial Museum at Vienna
(Armand’s _Les Médailleurs Italiens_, ii, 82, no. 9). See note 395.
Note 66 page 26. This “brave lady” is by some identified as the famous
Caterina Sforza, a natural daughter of Duke Galeazzo Maria Sforza of
Milan, who by the last of her three husbands became the mother of the
even more famous _condottiere_ Giovanni de' Medici delle Bande Nere. She
was born in 1462, and died in 1509 after a life of singular
vicissitudes. For an extraordinary story of her courage, see
Dennistoun’s “Memoirs of the Dukes of Urbino,” i, 292.
The “one whom I will not name at present” is supposed to have been a
certain brave soldier of fortune, Gaspar Sanseverino, who is often
mentioned as “Captain Fracassa,” and was a brother of the Galeazzo
Sanseverino who appears a little later in THE COURTIER (see page 34 and
note 72).
Note 67 page 28. The philosopher in question has been variously
identified as Democritus and Empedocles.
Note 68 page 30. In Charles V's romantic plan for deciding by single
combat his rivalry with Francis I, Castiglione was selected as his
second, but declined to violate diplomatic proprieties by accepting the
offer,—being at the time papal envoy at Charles’s court.
Note 69 page 31. Strictly speaking, the joust was a single contest
between man and man, while the tourney was a sham battle between two
squadrons. Stick-throwing seems to have been an equestrian game
introduced by the Moors into Spain, and by the Spaniards into Italy. In
the carnival of 1519 it was played by two companies in the Piazza of St.
Peter’s before Leo X.
Note 70 page 31. Vaulting on horse seems to have included some of the
feats of agility with which modern circus riders have familiarized us.
Note 71 page 33. “Finds grace,” i.e. favour: literally “is grateful”
(_grato_) in the sense of acceptable or pleasing. Compare the familiar
phrase _persona grata_.
Note 72 page 34. GALEAZZO SANSEVERINO was one of the twelve stalwart
sons of Roberto Sanseverino, a brave _condottiere_ who aided to place
Ludovico Sforza in power at Milan, rebelled against that prince, and was
slain while fighting for the Venetians in 1486. Galeazzo entered the
service of Ludovico, whose favour had been attracted by his personal
charm, literary accomplishments and rare skill in knightly exercises.
When he married his patron’s natural daughter Bianca, in 1489, Leonardo
da Vinci arranged the jousts held in honour of the wedding. Thenceforth
he adopted the names Visconti and Sforza, and was treated as a member of
the ducal family. In 1496, at the head of the Milanese forces, he
besieged the Duke of Orleans (afterwards Louis XII) at Novara, but in
1500 he was captured by the French, and after the final downfall of
Ludovico (to whom he seems to have remained creditably loyal) he entered
the service of Louis XII, who made him Grand Equerry in 1506. The duties
of his office included the superintendence of all the royal stables and
of an academy for the martial education of young men of noble family.
For a further account of his interesting life, and especially of his
friendship with Isabella d'Este, see Mrs. Henry Ady’s recent volume,
“Beatrice d'Este, Duchess of Milan.”
Note 73 page 35. The word _sprezzatura_ (rendered “nonchalance”) could
hardly have been new to Castiglione’s contemporaries, at least in its
primary meaning of disprizement or contempt. He may, however, have been
among the first to use it (as here and elsewhere in THE COURTIER) in its
modified sense of unconcern or nonchalance. Compare Herrick’s ‘wild
civility’ in “Art above Nature” and “Delight in Disorder.”
Note 74 page 37. Naturally Venice could hardly be a place well suited
for horsemanship; its citizens’ awkward riding was a favourite subject
of ridicule in the 16th century.
Note 75 page 37. The incident is supposed to have occurred on the
occasion of a visit paid by Apelles to Rhodes not long after the death
(323 B.C.) of Alexander the Great, whom he had accompanied into Asia
Minor. Apelles was eager to meet Protogenes, and on landing in Rhodes
went at once to the painter’s house. Protogenes was absent, but a large
panel stood ready for painting. Apelles took a pencil and drew an
exceedingly fine coloured line, by which Protogenes on his return
immediately recognized who his visitor had been, and in turn drew a
finer line of another colour upon or within the first line. When Apelles
saw this line, he added a third line still further subdividing the one
drawn by Protogenes. Later the panel was carried to Rome, where it long
excited wondering admiration in the Palace of the Cæsars, with which it
was finally destroyed by fire. Apelles was the first to stimulate
appreciation of the merits of Protogenes by buying several of the
latter’s works at enormous prices: he maintained however that he
excelled Protogenes in knowing when to cease elaborating his paintings.
Note 76 page 37. The play upon words here is untranslatable into
English. The Italian _tavola_ stands equally well for a dining-table and
for the tablet or panel upon which pictures were painted.
Note 77 page 40. ‘As those who speak [are present] before those who
speak’ is a literal translation of the accepted reading of this passage.
It is perhaps worth noting, however, that the earliest translator
(Boscan) ventures to deviate from the letter of the Italian text for the
sake of rendering what surely must have been the author’s meaning: _como
los que hablan á aquellos con quien hablan_, i.e. “as those who speak
[are present] before those _with whom_ they speak.”
Note 78 page 41. Although the dialect of Bergamo was (and still is)
ridiculed as rude and harsh, it possessed a copious popular literature.
Note 79 page 41. FRANCESCO PETRARCA or PETRARCH, (born 1304; died 1374),
belonged to a family that was banished from Florence at the same time
with Dante, whom he remembered seeing in his childhood. He was the first
Italian of his time to appreciate the value of public libraries, to
collect coins and inscriptions as sources of accurate historical
information, and to urge the preservation of ancient monuments. Had he
never written a line of verse, he would still be venerated as the
apostle of scholarship, as the chief originator of humanistic impulses
based upon what Symonds describes as “a new and vital perception of the
dignity of man considered as a rational being apart from theological
determinations, and ... the further perception that classic literature
alone displayed human nature in the plenitude of intellectual and moral
freedom.”
Note 80 page 41. In an age when grammatical and rhetorical treatises, in
the modern sense of the word, hardly existed, it was natural that the
study of classic models should take the form of imitation.
Note 81 page 42. It will be remembered that Giuliano de' Medici was a
native Tuscan.
Note 82 page 43. This Tuscan triumvirate was called “the three
Florentine crowns:” Dante, Petrarch and Boccaccio.
Note 83 page 44. EVANDER was a mythical son of Hermes, supposed to have
founded a colony on the Tiber before the Trojan War. TURNUS was a
legendary king of an Italian tribe, who was slain by Æneas.
Note 84 page 44. The Salian priests were attached to the worship of Mars
Gradivus. On the occasion of their annual festival, they went in
procession through Rome, carrying the sacred shields of which they were
custodians and which they beat in accompaniment to dance and song. The
words of their chaunts are said to have become unintelligible even to
themselves, and appear to have set forth a kind of theogony in praise of
all the celestial deities (excepting Venus), and especially of one
Mamurius Veturius, who is by some regarded as identical with Mars.
Note 85 page 44. MARCUS ANTONIUS (143-87 B.C.) and LICINIUS CRASSUS
(140-91 B.C.), the two most famous orators of early Rome, were regarded
by Cicero as having been the first to rival their Greek predecessors.
QUINTUS HORTENSIUS HORTALUS (114-50 B.C.), the great advocate of the
aristocratic party at Rome, yielded the palm of oratory only to CICERO
(106-43 B.C.). MARCUS PORCIUS CATO (234-149 B.C.), a Roman soldier,
author and reforming statesman, sought to restore the ancient purity and
simplicity of the earlier republic. QUINTUS ENNIUS (239-169 B.C.), a
Roman epic poet and annalist, imparted to the language and literature of
his nation much of the impulse that affected their growth for centuries.
VIRGIL was born 70 B.C., and died 19 B.C.
Note 86 page 44. HORACE was born 65 B.C., and died 8 B.C. PLAUTUS died
184 B.C.
Note 87 page 44. SERGIUS SULPICIUS GALBA was Roman Consul 144 B.C.;
Cicero praised his oratory, but found it more old-fashioned than that of
Lælius (_flor._ 200 B.C.) and Scipio Africanus the Younger (died 129
B.C.).
Note 88 page 46. In his _Prose_, Bembo says that courtly Italian,
especially during the pontificate of the Spaniard, Alexander VI
(1492-1503), was full of Spanish expressions,—an assertion amply
confirmed by contemporary letters, which are rich also in Gallicisms.
Note 89 page 46. The Spanish _primor_ has failed to win Italian
citizenship. _Aventurare_ has become naturalized in Italy; as also have
_acertare_ (in the sense, however, of to assure, to make certain, to
verify), _ripassare_ (to repass, to repeat, to rebuff), _rimproccio_ or
_rimprovero_, and _attilato_ or _attillato_, which is recognizable in
the Spanish _atildado_. _Creato_ (Spanish _criado_) is now replaced by
_creatura_ in the sense mentioned in the text; in Sicily _creato_ is
used to mean servant.
Note 90 page 47. The reference here is of course to the Attic, Doric,
Ionic and Æolic dialects.
Note 91 page 47. TITUS LIVIUS was born at Padua 59 B.C., and died there
17 A.D. Of the one hundred and forty-two books of his History (which
covered the period from the founding of Rome in 750 B.C. down to 9 B.C.,
and upon which he spent forty years of his life), only thirty-five have
survived, together with an anonymous summary of the whole.
Note 92 page 48. Of the four forms here condemned by Castiglione as
corrupt, three (_Campidoglio_, _Girolamo_, and _padrone_) have become
firmly established in Italian. _Campidoglio_ had been used by Petrarch
(_Trionfo d'Amore_, i, 14),—an “old” but certainly not an “ignorant”
Tuscan.
Note 93 page 49. Oscan was a pre-Roman language spoken by the Opici, an
Italian tribe inhabiting the Campanian coast. Much of the mist that
shrouded it for centuries has now been dispelled by the epigraphists.
Both Dante and Petrarch were great lovers of Provençal, with which in
Castiglione’s time his friend Federico Fregoso was familiar.
Note 94 page 50. BIDON was a native of Asti, and one of the most famous
choristers in the service of Leo X.
[Illustration:
ANDREA MANTEGNA
1431-1506
]
Enlarged from a part of Alinari’s photograph (no. 18657) of the bronze
relief, surmounting Mantegna’s tomb in the Church of Sant'Andrea at
Mantua, variously attributed to Bartolommeo di Virgilio Melioli
(1448-1514), to Giovanni Marco Cavalli (born 1450), and, with less
reason, to Sperandio di Bartolommeo de' Savelli (1425?-1500?).
Note 95 page 50. MARCHETTO CARA, a native of Verona, entered the service
of the Gonzagas in 1495 and lived nearly thirty years at Mantua, where
he was made a citizen by the Marquess Federico. He frequented also the
court of Urbino, and is known to have been sent by the Marchioness
Isabella to relieve the tedium of her friend and sister-in-law the
Duchess Elisabetta’s exile at Venice in 1503. In his time he was among
the most prolific and successful composers of profane music, especially
of ballads and madrigals, and a number of his popular pieces have been
preserved.
Note 96 page 50. LEONARDO DA VINCI, (born 1452; died 1519), was the
natural son of a notary, Pietro Antonio, of the village of Vinci,
situated about fourteen miles east of Florence. He studied some three
years with Donatello’s pupil Verocchio at Florence. Meeting small
pecuniary success there, he removed to Milan about 1483 and entered the
service of Duke Ludovico Sforza, who is said to have paid him the
equivalent of £4000 a year while painting the “Last Supper,” and for
whom he completed in 1493 the model of a colossal equestrian statue of
Duke Francesco Sforza, never executed in permanent form. He was employed
by Cesare Borgia as military engineer, and in that capacity visited
Urbino in July 1502. His famous portrait known as the “Monna Lisa” or
“La Gioconda,” upon which he worked at times for four years, was
finished about 1504 and afterwards sold by him to Francis I. In 1507, he
had been appointed painter to Louis XII, but did not visit France until
1516. On the election of Leo X in 1513, he journeyed to Rome in the
company and service of Giuliano de' Medici, who paid him a monthly
stipend of £66. Although he was received with favour by the new pope and
lodged in the Vatican, his stay in Rome was artistically unprolific, his
interest at the time being chiefly confined to chemistry and physics,
and nature attracting him more than antiquities, of which he spoke as
“this old rubbish” (_queste anticaglie_). Three years before his death
he was visited at Amboise in France by Cardinal Ludovico of Aragon, who
is mentioned later in THE COURTIER (p. 159), and whose secretary left an
interesting account of an interview with him, describing the painter as
then disabled by paralysis of the hand.
Note 97 page 50. ANDREA MANTEGNA, (born 1431; died 1506), was a native
of Vicenza and probably of humble origin. When a mere child he became
the pupil and adopted son of the noted painter and instructor, Francesco
Squarcione of Padua, and was soon enrolled in the painters’ guild of
that city. In 1449 he began painting for the d'Este at Ferrara, and
between 1453 and 1459 he married Niccolosa, a daughter of Squarcione’s
rival Giacopo Bellini, and sister of the more famous brothers Gentile
and Giovanni Bellini. He painted also at Verona, and about 1460 entered
the service of the Gonzagas at Mantua, where the remainder of his life
was chiefly spent, although he worked for Pope Innocent VIII at Rome
about the year 1488, before which date he was knighted by the Marquess
of Mantua. By one writer he is affirmed to have cast the fine bust which
ornaments his tomb at Mantua, and which is said once to have had diamond
eyes. He is known to have understood bronze casting, and besides the
brush and the engraver’s burin, he handled modelling tools, while a
sonnet of his has been preserved. Although praised by Vasari as kindly
and in every way estimable, he is shown by contemporary letters to have
been rather irritable and litigious in private life. Albert Dürer tells
us that one of the keenest disappointments of his life was occasioned by
the great painter’s death before he was able to make an intended journey
to Mantua for the purpose of visiting Mantegna.
Note 98 page 50. RAFFAELLO SANTI or SANZI,—euphonized by Bembo as
SANZIO,—(born 1483; died 1520), was a native of Urbino and the son of
Giovanni Santi and Magia Ciarla. The father was himself a painter of no
mean skill, and wrote a quaint rhymed chronicle of the Duchy of Urbino,
which is preserved in the Vatican and contains much interesting
information. Having lost both parents when he had reached the age of
eleven years, and probably having first studied at Urbino under Timoteo
della Vite, Raphael was sent by a maternal uncle to the studio of
Perugino at Perugia. The rest of his short life was an unbroken course
of happy labour and brilliant success. In 1499 he seems to have been at
Urbino for the purpose of arranging for the welfare of a sister, and
again in 1504, when, after executing several works (including, it is
believed, portraits of the duke and duchess) for the ducal family, he
went to Florence with a letter of commendation from Guidobaldo’s sister.
From 1504 to 1508 he resided chiefly at Florence, although he again
visited Urbino twice, just before and probably soon after the date of
the Courtier dialogues. His friendship with so many members of the
Urbino court (Giuliano de' Medici, Bibbiena, Bembo, Canossa, and
Castiglione), and even his acquaintance with Julius II, probably began
during these later visits to his native city. In 1508 he was called to
Rome by Julius, and resided there until his death. On succeeding
Bramante as architect of St. Peter’s in 1514, he wrote to Castiglione:
“Sir Count: I have made drawings in several manners according to your
suggestion, and if everyone does not flatter me, I am satisfying
everyone; but I do not satisfy my own judgment, because I dread not
satisfying yours. I am sending them to you. Pray choose any of them, if
you deem any worthy. Our Lord [i.e. Leo X] in honouring me has put a
great burden on my shoulders,—that is, the charge of the fabric of St.
Peter’s. I hope, however, not to fall under it; and the more so, because
the model I have made for it pleases his Holiness and is praised by many
choice spirits; but in thought I soar still higher. I fain would renew
the beautiful forms of ancient buildings, but know not whether my flight
will be that of Icarus. Vitruvius affords me much light on the subject,
but less than I need. As to Galatea, I should hold myself a great master
if she possessed half the fine things you write me; but in your words I
recognize the love you bear me: and I tell you that to paint one
beautiful woman, I should need to see several beautiful women and to
have you with me to choose the best. But as there is dearth of good
judgments and of beautiful women, I am using a certain idea that has
occurred to my mind. Whether this has any artistic excellence in it, I
know not,—but I am striving for it. Command me.” Passavant affirms that
the ‘drawings’ mentioned at the beginning of this letter were designs
for a medal that Castiglione meant to wear. Raphael is said to have
painted two portraits of Castiglione, one of which (1516) is in the
Louvre and appears as the frontispiece to this volume. His epitaph was
written by Bembo, while Castiglione composed a Latin elegy in his
honour.
Note 99 page 50. MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI, (born 1475; died 1564), was a
native of Caprese, a village about forty-seven miles south-east of
Florence, and the son of Ludovico Buonarroti Simoni and Francesca,
daughter of Neri del Sera. His first schoolmaster seems to have come
from Urbino. Apprenticed at the age of thirteen to Ghirlandajo, he soon
came under the protection of Lorenzo de' Medici. In 1496 he removed to
Rome, and remained there five years. From 1501 to 1504 he was working
upon the great statue of David at Florence, and prepared his cartoon for
a vast fresco on the Battle of Cascina, which, although never executed,
was often copied, and is said to have exerted a greater influence on the
art of the Renaissance than any other single work. In 1505 he was called
to Rome to design a colossal mausoleum for Julius II. The anxieties and
disappointments connected with this project became the continual tragedy
of his long life. “Every day,” he wrote, “I am stoned as if I had
crucified Christ. My youth has been lost, bound hand and foot to this
tomb.” The matter was finally ended by the placing of his statue of
Moses in the church of San Pietro in Vincoli at Rome. In the spring of
1506 he was present at the unearthing of the Laocoön, and at the date of
the Courtier dialogues he was engaged in casting a great bronze statue
of Julius II at Bologna. Duke Guidobaldo’s collection at Urbino seems to
have included a Cupid made by Buonarroti in imitation of the antique,
originally owned by Cesare Borgia, regained by him when he captured
Urbino in 1502, and soon presented by him to Guidobaldo’s sister-in-law,
the Marchioness Isabella d'Este of Mantua. The famous tomb statue of
Giuliano de' Medici at Florence is hardly to be regarded as a portrait,
and was of course executed long after the period of THE COURTIER. In
1519 the Marquess of Mantua wrote to Castiglione, who was his ambassador
at Rome, regarding a monument to his father that he hoped to have the
master design. In 1523 Castiglione brought to Mantua a sketch made by
Buonarroti for a villa which the marquess intended to build at
Marmirolo.
Note 100 page 50. GIORGIO BARBARELLI, known as GIORGIONE or “Big
George,” (born about 1478; died 1511), was a native of Castelfranco, a
town about forty miles north-west of Venice, and was reputed to be a
natural son of one Giacopo Barbarelli, a Venetian, and a peasant girl.
Lack of data renders a consecutive account of his life and work
impossible. He was brought up in Venice, and bred as a painter in the
school of the Bellini. Vasari says that he played upon the lute and sang
well, and was of a gentle disposition. Although he seems to have been
exceptionally independent of great people, he enjoyed the especial
favour of the Marchioness Isabella d'Este of Mantua. In a letter written
from Venice in the year before that of the Courtier dialogues, Albert
Dürer declared Giorgione to be the greatest painter in the city, which
could then boast of the Bellini, Palma Vecchio, Carpaccio and Titian.
One of the most acute of recent critics, Mr. Bernhard Berenson, ascribes
to him only seventeen existing pictures, of which the best known is the
_Fête Champêtre_ in the Louvre, while the only one whose authenticity is
entirely free from doubt is the “Madonna and Saints” in the Duomo at
Castelfranco. The Urbino collection comprised two portraits by
Giorgione, one of which is supposed to have represented Duke Guidobaldo,
but unfortunately is lost.
Note 101 page 51. ISOCRATES, (born 436; died 338 B.C.), an Athenian
orator, was a pupil of Socrates, and became the instructor of many
famous orators. His diction was of the purest Attic, and his writings
were highly prized by the Alexandrian grammarians. The first printed
edition of his works (1493) was edited by Castiglione’s Greek master,
Chalcondylas. LYSIAS, (died about 380 B.C.), an Athenian orator,
abandoned the stilted monotony of the older speakers, and employed the
simple language of every-day life, but with purity and grace. ÆSCHINES,
(born 389; died 314 B.C.), was the rival and finally unsuccessful
antagonist of Demosthenes.
Note 102 page 51. CAIUS PAPIRIUS CARBO, (Consul in 120 B.C.), was an
adherent of the Gracchi, but became a renegade and finally committed
suicide. He was generally suspected of murdering Scipio Africanus the
Younger. While abominating the man’s character, Cicero praises his
oratory. CAIUS LÆLIUS SAPIENS was Consul in 140 B.C. His friendship with
Scipio is commemorated in Cicero’s _De Amicitia_. While he was in his
own time regarded as the model orator, later grammarians resorted to his
works for archaisms. SCIPIO AFRICANUS THE YOUNGER, (died 129 B.C.),
captured Carthage in the Third Punic War, and was leader of the
aristocratic party at Rome against the popular reforms of the Gracchi.
His works, of which only a few fragments survive, are praised by Cicero
and were long held in esteem. GALBA, see note 87. PUBLIUS SULPICIUS
RUFUS, (born 124; died 88 B.C.), was a tribune of the plebs. Cicero
says: “Of all the orators I ever heard, Sulpicius was the most
dignified, and, so to speak, the most tragic.” CAIUS AURELIUS COTTA,
(Consul 75 B.C.), is characterized by Cicero, who had argued a cause
against him, as a most acute and subtle orator, but his style seems to
have been dry and unimpassioned. CAIUS SEMPRONIUS GRACCHUS, (died 121
B.C.), a son of the famous Cornelia, and brother-in-law of Scipio
Africanus the Younger, is noted chiefly for his vain struggle in behalf
of popular rights. Only fragments of his oratory have survived. MARCUS
ANTONIUS and CRASSUS, see note 85.
Note 103 page 51. “In a certain place,” i.e., _De Oratore_, II, xxiii,
97.
Note 104 page 51. The Italian _virtù_ has here its Latin meaning of
natural vigour. See also note 330.
[Illustration:
LORENZO DE' MEDICI
1448-1492
]
Enlarged from a negative, specially made by Alinari through the courtesy
of Professor I. B. Supino, of a medal, in the National Museum at
Florence, by Antonio del Pollaiuolo (1429-1498).
Note 105 page 51. ANGELO POLIZIANO, (born 1454; died 1494), was a native
of Montepulciano (about twenty-seven miles south-east of Siena), of
which his name is a Latinized form. To English students he is better
known as POLITIAN, and as the author of the oft-cited line, “Tempora
mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis.” His father Benedetto Ambrogini died
poor, leaving a widow and five young children almost destitute. At the
age of ten, Angelo studied at Florence, and composed Latin poems and
Greek epigrams while yet a boy. At thirteen, he published Latin
epistles; at sixteen, he began his Latin translation of the Iliad; at
seventeen, he distributed Greek poems among the learned men of Florence;
and at eighteen, he edited Catullus. He was received into Lorenzo de'
Medici’s household, and before he was thirty years old, he was professor
of Latin and Greek at the University of Florence and was entrusted with
the care of Lorenzo’s children. His pupils included the chief students
of Europe. A born poet, entitled to the middle place of honour between
Petrarch and Ariosto, he was the first Italian to combine perfect
mastery of Latin and a correct sense of Greek with genius for his own
native literature. Towards the close of his life, he entered holy orders
and became a canon of the Cathedral at Florence. He was ill formed, and
had squinting eyes and an enormous nose. His morals were lax. He was
succeeded by Bembo as dictator of Italian letters.
Note 106 page 51. LORENZO DE' MEDICI, (born 1448; died 1492), was the
grandson of Cosimo, _Pater Patriæ_, and father of Giuliano of THE
COURTIER. On the death of his father Pietro in 1469, he succeeded
jointly with his brother Giuliano to the family wealth and political
predominance. Giuliano’s assassination in the Piazzi conspiracy of 1478
(which Poliziano witnessed and narrated in Latin) left Lorenzo sole
ruler, but like his predecessors, he governed the republic without any
title, by free use of money and great adroitness in securing the
elevation of his adherents to the chief offices of state. He was a man
of marvellous range of mental power,—an epitome of Renaissance
versatility. Never relaxing his hold on public affairs, among
philosophers he passed for a sage; among men of letters, for an original
and graceful poet; among scholars, for a Hellenist sensitive to every
nicety of Attic idiom; among artists, for a connoisseur of consummate
taste; among libertines, for a merry and untiring roysterer; among the
pious, for an accomplished theologian. “He was no less famous for his
jokes and repartees than for his pithy apothegms and maxims, as good a
judge of cattle as of statues, as much at home in the bosom of his
family as in the riot of an orgy, as ready to discourse on Plato as to
plan a campaign or to plot the death of a dangerous citizen.” (Symonds.)
Note 107 page 51. FRANCESCO CATTANI DA DIACCETO, (born 1466; died 1522),
was a native of Florence, studied at Pisa, and returning to his native
city became intimate with Ficino, of whose philosophy he may be said to
have been the heir. For many years he lectured at Florence with such
success that the Venetians tried to entice him to the University of
Padua, in vain. A partisan of the Medici, he enjoyed the favour of Leo X
and of Cardinal Giulio, afterwards Clement VII. All his works (written
in Latin) are of a philosophical character. His style is said to be
sprightly and correct, and despite the ridicule then cast upon the
vulgar tongue, he himself translated several of his books into Italian,
notably the _Tre Libri d'Amore_, with which Castiglione shows
familiarity in the Fourth Book of THE COURTIER.
Note 108 page 52. CAIUS SILIUS ITALICUS, (died 100 A.D.), was Consul
under Nero and a follower of Cicero in the art of oratory. After a
prosperous public career, he retired to a life of literary ease. His
most important work was a long epic poem on the Second Punic War, and
soon sank into oblivion. CORNELIUS TACITUS, (died probably after 117
A.D.), was Consul and orator as well as historian.
Note 109 page 54. MARCUS TERENTIUS VARRO, (born 116; died about 27
B.C.), was somewhat older than Cæsar, Cicero and Sallust, but outlived
them all. He was regarded as the most learned of the Romans, and was
made director of the public library by Cæsar, although he had been a
partisan of Pompey. Of his seventy-four works, which embraced nearly all
branches of knowledge, only two survive. They were much esteemed by the
Christian Fathers.
Note 110 page 55. CATULLUS was born about 87 B.C. His 39th ode begins:
“Because Egnatius has white teeth, he smiles wherever he goes”
(_Egnatius, quod candidos habet dentes, renidet usque quaque_). Later in
the same ode, he says: “Nothing is more pointless than a pointless
laugh” (_Nam risu inepto res ineptior nulla est_).
Note 111 page 57. MONSEIGNEUR D'ANGOULÊME, afterwards FRANCIS I, (born
1494; died 1547), was the son of Count Charles d'Angoulême and Louise of
Savoy. His governor, Sieur de Boisy, strove to inspire him with a taste
for arms and a love of letters and art, and it was from romances of
chivalry that he derived much of his education and many of his ideas of
government. He succeeded his cousin Louis XII in January 1515, and one
of the earliest functions at his court was the marriage of his aunt
Filiberta of Savoy to Giuliano de' Medici, who is here represented by
Castiglione (with what truth remains uncertain) as having visited the
French court shortly before the date of the Courtier dialogues. Writing
in 1515, the Venetian ambassador describes the young king as being
really handsome (the evidence of our nearly contemporaneous medal
illustration to the contrary), courageous, an excellent musician, and
very learned for one of his age and rank. Under his rule, relations
between France and Italy became closer and more active, and there began
to penetrate beyond the Alps that Italian influence which he later
greatly increased by marrying his son to Giuliano de' Medici’s
great-niece Caterina. His education had included a study of Italian
literature and customs, and besides Federico Fregoso and Ludovico da
Canossa he received and honoured many other illustrious Italians, among
whom were Leonardo da Vinci and Benvenuto Cellini. He caused search to
be made in Italy for rare MSS., and had them copied for his library. His
reign, although clouded by defeats and humiliations, began a true
literary and artistic Renaissance in France.
Note 112 page 57. The reference here is to the famous Sorbonne (founded
by Robert Sorbon in 1253) towards which Francis was for religious
reasons hostile during the early years of his reign, and to which he
raised up a rival by founding the Collège de France in 1530.
Note 113 page 58. LUCIUS LICINIUS LUCULLUS, a Roman general and Consul
(74 B.C.), noted chiefly for his wealth, luxury, and patronage of art
and letters. LUCIUS CORNELIUS SULLA, a Roman general, Consul (88 B.C.),
and dictator, was the first Roman to lead an army against the city, and
the first to publish lists of his enemies, proscribing them and offering
a reward for their death. CNEIUS POMPEIUS, or POMPEY, (born 106; died 48
B.C.), a member of the Triumvirate with Cæsar and Crassus, and the
finally unsuccessful champion of the conservative party against the
power of Cæsar. MARCUS JUNIUS BRUTUS, (born 85; died 42 B.C.), a
statesman and scholar, who adhered to Pompey, joined Cassius in the
assassination of Cæsar, and was finally defeated by Mark Antony.
HANNIBAL, (born 247 B.C.), the famous Carthaginian general who conquered
Spain, crossed the Alps, overran Italy, was defeated by Scipio the
Elder, became chief magistrate of Carthage, and committed suicide in
exile about 183 B.C.
Note 114 page 59. In the last chapter of his “Prince,” Machiavelli (who
was Castiglione’s contemporary) says: “Although military excellence
seems to be extinct in Italy, this arises from the fact that the old
methods were not good and there has been no one who knew how to devise
new ones. We have great excellence in the members, if only it were not
lacking in the heads. In duels and engagements between small numbers,
see how superior the Italians are in strength, in dexterity, in
resource. But when it comes to armies, they make no showing; and it all
proceeds from the weakness of the heads. Whence it arises that in so
much time, in so many battles fought in the last twenty years, when an
army has been purely Italian, it has always succeeded ill.” Compare this
opinion with Montaigne’s remark (_Essais_, II, c. 24) that the officers
of Charles VIII ascribed their easy Italian conquests to the fact that
“the princes and nobility of Italy took more pleasure in becoming
ingenious and learned than in becoming vigorous and warlike.”
Note 115 page 59. In 1524 Castiglione wrote to his mother at Mantua
regarding the education of his son, who had just begun to study the
Greek alphabet, as follows: “As to Camillo’s learning Greek, I have had
a letter also from Michael, who says so many things that he seems to me
a flatterer. It is enough that the boy shows good capacity and
inclination, and good pronunciation. As for Latin, I should be glad to
have him attend more to Greek at present, for those who know are of
opinion that one ought to begin with Greek; because Latin is natural to
us, and we almost acquire it even though we spend little labour upon it;
but Greek is not so.”
Note 116 page 59. The reader will hardly need to be reminded that the
habit of versification was very prevalent in all ranks of Italian
society in Castiglione’s day. Varchi (1502-1565) informs us that the
vernacular was generally despised in the Florence of that time, and
adds: “And I remember, when I was a lad, that the first and most
important command which fathers usually gave to their children, and
masters to their pupils, was that they must on no account whatever read
anything in the vulgar tongue.”
Note 117 page 59. In the _Vita Nuova_ (c. 25), Dante says: “And the
first who began to speak like a native poet was moved thereto because he
would have his words understood of woman.”
Note 118 page 59. ARISTIPPUS, (_flor._ 400 B.C.), was a Greek
philosopher, whose school took its name from his birthplace, Cyrene in
Africa. He was for some time a follower of Socrates, and afterwards
lived at the court of Dionysius, tyrant of Syracuse. Diogenes Laertius
relates that when Aristippus was asked what was the greatest thing he
had gained from philosophy, he replied: “The power to meet all men with
confidence.”
Note 119 page 60. Among Plutarch’s works is a tract entitled “How to
Tell Friend from Flatterer.” In 1532 Erasmus published a Latin version
of it dedicated to Henry VIII of England.
Note 120 page 61. The first quatrain of a well-known sonnet by Petrarch:
_Giunto Alessandro alla famosa tomba
Del fero Achille, sospirando disse:
O fortunato, cite sì chiara tromba
Trovasti, e chi di te sì alto scrisse!_
of which Mr. John Jay Chapman has kindly furnished the following
translation:
When Alexander reached the sacred mound
Where dread Achilles sleeps, “O child of Fame,”
He sighed. “Thy deeds are happy that they found
Old Homer’s tongue to clarion thy name.”
In his oration _Pro Archia_, Cicero describes Alexander as exclaiming:
“O fortunate youth, who found Homer as herald of thy valour!” (_O
fortunate, inquit, adulescens qui tuæ virtutis Homerum præconem
inveneris!_).
Note 121 page 62. In an earlier version, this passage reads: “Grasso de'
Medici will in this matter have the same advantage over Messer Pietro
Bembo that a hogshead has over a barrel.” Bembo was slender, while
_Grasso_ (fat man) was probably the nickname of a corpulent soldier in
the service of the Medici, possibly identical with a certain Grasso to
whom Bembo desired to be commended in a letter to Bibbiena, 5 February
1506.
Note 122 page 63. The instrument used in Socrates’s time κιθάρα was
certainly not the modern cithern, but more probably a kind of large
lyre, supported by a ribbon and played with a plectrum of metal, wood or
ivory.
Note 123 page 63. In a note to this passage, Cian says: “_Abito_
[rendered ‘habit of mind’] is a special condition or habitual quality of
the mind, which manifests itself outwardly in a special _costume_
[rendered ‘habitual tendency’], or equally habitual behaviour, which in
turn reacts upon the disposition and moral attitude of the individual.”
Note 124 page 64. LYCURGUS probably lived in the 9th century B.C., and
was the reputed author of the Spartan laws and institutions.
Note 125 page 64. EPAMINONDAS, a Theban general, defeated the Spartans
at Leuctra in 371 B.C. and at Mantinea in 362 B.C., and lost his life in
the latter battle.
Note 126 page 64. THEMISTOCLES, the Athenian statesman and general,
persuaded the Greeks to resist the second Persian invasion by naval
force at Salamis in 480 B.C.
Note 127 page 64. One of the finest of the Pompeian frescoes represents
the centaur Chiron teaching Achilles to play upon the lyre.
Note 128 page 64. The reference here is of course to the familiar story
of Orpheus and the beasts.
Note 129 page 64. Castiglione doubtless had in mind the legend of Arion,
a Greek poet of Lesbos, who probably flourished about 700 B.C. We have a
fragment of his verse addressed to Poseidon and telling of the dolphins,
who had wafted the poet safely to land when he had lost his course.
Note 130 page 65. As we shall see, the Magnifico’s request was not
complied with until the second evening (page 81).
Note 131 page 65. QUINTUS FABIUS PICTOR was a Roman general who served
in the Second Punic War, and wrote a Greek history of Rome, much
esteemed by the ancients, but now lost. Pliny affirms that Fabius
painted the temple in the 450th year after the founding of Rome (i.e.
300 B.C.), and that the painting was still extant about the beginning of
our era.
Note 132 page 66. The Apollo Belvedere was discovered in 1503, the
Laocoön group in 1506, and other famous antique statues only a few years
earlier.
Note 133 page 66. The comparative merits of painting and sculpture were
a frequent subject of discussion during this period. The Renaissance
writers had inherited from antiquity a fondness for seeking superiority
or inferiority in matters between which there exists such a diversity of
character as to render comparison unprofitable. According to Vasari,
Giorgione maintained “that in one picture the painter could display
various aspects without the necessity of walking round his work, and
could even display, at one glance, all the different aspects that could
be presented by the figure of a man, even though the latter should
assume several attitudes,—a thing which could not be accomplished by
sculpture without compelling the observer to change his place, so that
the work is not presented at one view, but at different views. He
declared, further, that he could execute a single figure in painting, in
such a manner as to show the front, back, and profiles of both sides at
one and the same time.... He painted a nude figure, with its back turned
to the spectator, and at the feet of the figure was a limpid stream,
wherein the reflection of the front was painted with the utmost
exactitude: on one side was a highly burnished corselet, of which the
figure had divested itself, and wherein the left side was reflected
perfectly, every part of the figure being clearly apparent: and on the
other side was a mirror, in which the right profile of the nude form was
also exhibited. By this beautiful and admirable fancy, Giorgione desired
to prove that painting is, in effect, the superior art, requiring more
talent and demanding higher effort.”
In one of his letters, Michelangelo wrote: “My opinion is that all
painting is the better the nearer it approaches to relief, and relief is
worse in proportion as it inclines to painting. And so I have been wont
to think that sculpture is the lamp of painting, and that the difference
between them might be likened to the difference between the sun and
moon.... By sculpture I understand an art which operates by taking away
superfluous material; by painting, one that attains its result by laying
material on. It is enough that both emanate from the same human
intelligence, and consequently sculpture and painting ought to live in
amity together, without these lengthy disputations. More time is wasted
in talking about the problem than would go to the making of figures in
both species.”
Note 134 page 68. In his “Treatise on Painting,” Leonardo da Vinci says:
“The first marvel we find in painting is the apparent detachment from
the wall or other plane, and the cheating of keen perceptions by
something that is not separate from the surface.”
Note 135 page 68. “Grottoes,” i.e. the Catacombs. Speaking in his
autobiography of the remains of ancient art found in the Catacombs,
Benvenuto Cellini says: “These grotesques have received this name from
the moderns because they were found by scholars at Rome in certain
subterranean caverns, which had anciently been rooms, chambers, studios,
halls and the like. Since these scholars found them in these cavernous
places (which had been built by the ancients on the surface and had
become low), and since such low places are known at Rome by the name
Grottoes, for that reason they received the name grotesques.” Cellini
here tries to explain the origin of the name applied to ornaments (such
as the arabesques of the Renaissance) in which figures, human to the
waist, terminate in scrolls, leafage, etc., and are combined with animal
forms and impossible flowers. In this sense the word was used as early
as 1502 in a contract between the Cardinal of Siena and the painter
Pinturicchio. It had of course not yet reached its modern signification,
so fully discussed in the appendix to Volume IV of Ruskin’s “Modern
Painters.” In Castiglione’s time it was not known that the catacomb
decorations were Christian, and in any case they were founded on pagan
models.
Note 136 page 69. DEMETRIUS I of Macedon, (died 283 B.C.), was the son
of Antigonus, who was one of Alexander’s most illustrious generals and
succeeded to the Macedonian throne.
Note 137 page 69. Of METRODORUS, nothing more is known than Pliny’s
account of the incident recorded in our text.
Note 138 page 69. LUCIUS ÆMILIUS PAULUS, (died 160 B.C.), was a Roman
general, Consul, and statesman of the aristocratic party. The incident
mentioned in the text occurred after his victory over King Perseus of
Macedon in 168 B.C.
Note 139 page 70. CAMPASPE, according to Pliny, was the name of the
beautiful slave given by Alexander to Apelles, as narrated at page 68.
Note 140 page 70. ZEUXIS, (_flor._ 400 B.C.), belonged to the Ionian
school of Greek painting, which was characterized by sensuous beauty and
accurate imitation of nature. He lived at Athens, and his idealism is
said to have been rather of form than of character. The picture referred
to in the text represented Helen of Troy, was regarded as his
masterpiece, and was probably identical with a picture mentioned as
being at Rome. The story of the five maidens is said to have been cited
by Tintoretto in support of his maxim, “Art must perfect Nature.”
Note 141 page 71. The Marquesses FEBUS and GERARDINO DI CEVA were sons
of the Marquess Giovanni (who was living as late as 1491), and belonged
to one of the most illustrious families of Piedmont and indeed of all
Italy. They were born towards the close of the 15th century and died
about the third decade of the 16th, having obtained the investiture of
their fief in 1521. They sided sometimes with the Emperor and sometimes
with France, as best suited them, and left rather a bad name. To escape
punishment for killing a cousin, Gerardino stabbed himself, and Febus
also died “_disperato_,” leaving two daughters in grief and shame.
Note 142 page 71. ETTORE ROMANO GIOVENALE was a cavalier of whom little
more is known than that he was in Francesco Maria’s service, fought
successfully as one of the thirteen Italian champions at Barletta, was
afterwards in the service of the Duke of Ferrara, who dismissed him for
an act of treachery.
Note 143 page 71. COLLO VINCENZO CALMETA of Castelnuovo, (died 1508),
was a courtly poet and prose writer, who had been secretary to the
Duchess Beatrice d'Este of Milan. Later he enjoyed the especial favour
of this lady’s sister, the Marchioness Isabella d'Este of Mantua, and
also of the Duchess of Urbino, who protected him from the displeasure of
her brother the Marquess of Mantua, and at whose court he improvised
verse somewhat after the manner of the Unico Aretino. In a letter (1504)
from Urbino to Isabella d'Este, Emilia Pia wrote: “Of news here there is
none that is not known to you, except that Calmeta is continually
composing songs and divers other things, and this carnival has written a
new comedy, which he would have sent you if he had thought it would give
you pleasure.” Among Calmeta’s works were a verse compendium of Ovid’s
_Ars Amandi_, and a biography of his friend and fellow improvisatore,
Serafino Ciminelli d'Aquila (see note 255). As known to us, his poetical
writings do not rise above mediocrity, and wholly fail to explain the
esteem in which they were held.
Note 144 page 71. ORAZIO FLORIDO was a native of Fano, one of the
Adriatic coast towns nearest to Urbino. Having been chancellor to Duke
Guidobaldo, he became secretary to Duke Francesco Maria. When Francesco
was combating the usurper Lorenzo de' Medici in 1517, he sent one of his
officers with Florido under protection of a safe-conduct to challenge
Lorenzo to personal combat. In spite of the safe-conduct, Florido was
detained and sent to Leo X at Rome, where he was basely tortured in the
hope of extorting political secrets from him. He remained steadfastly
faithful to his master, and afterwards made a tour of the courts of
Europe seeking aid for his lord.
Note 145 page 73. MARGARITA GONZAGA was a niece of the Duchess of
Urbino, being a natural daughter of the Marquess Gianfrancesco of
Mantua. She was for many years one of the ornaments of the Urbino court.
Various mentions of her in contemporary letters show her as a woman of
unusual beauty, sprightly wit and gay disposition. She had several
suitors, apparently including Filippo Beroaldo, who is mentioned later
in THE COURTIER (page 139).
Note 146 page 73. Of BARLETTA nothing more is known than what is
contained in this and another shorter mention of him in THE COURTIER
(page 87).
[Illustration:
BEATRICE D'ESTE
DUCHESS OF MILAN
1475-1497
]
Reduced from Braun’s photograph (no. 42.371) of the portrait, in the
Pitti Gallery at Florence, attributed to Piero della Francesca
(1420-1492). For an account of this and other portraits, see
_l'Archivio Storico dell'Arte_ for 1889, p. 264. Some of the events
of her short life are mentioned in note 398 at page 399 of this
volume.
Note 147 page 73. The original reads: _havendo prima danzato una bassa,
ballarono una Roegarze_. The _danza bassa_ was of Spanish origin and is
believed to have consisted of sliding steps and of posturing, in which
the feet were not lifted. The verb _ballare_ seems to be derived from
the low Latin _balla_, a ball. In the Middle Ages the game of ball was
accompanied with dance and song, and we may well believe that a class of
dances, thus originating and denominated generally _balli_, were more
animated than the _danza bassa_. Although a Greek derivation has been
ascribed to the word _roegarze_, Cian affirms that the dance thus named
was of French origin. The earliest French translator of THE COURTIER
renders the word by _rouergoise_, which is apparently derived from
_Rouergue_, the name of an ancient French province to the south-west of
Lyons.
[Illustration:
FILIPPO MARIA VISCONTI
DUKE OF MILAN
1391-1447
]
Reduced from Giraudon’s photograph (no. 254) of a drawing, in the
Louvre, by Vittore Pisano, better known as Pisanello, (1380?-1451?).
NOTES TO THE SECOND BOOK OF THE COURTIER
Note 148 page 75. This passage reflects the medico-philosophical
theories which the Renaissance inherited from antiquity, and which
regarded “the vital spirits” as something far more tangible and material
than what we call the principle of life or vital spark. Compare the
early conception of electricity as a fluid substance. “Complexion” is of
course here used to mean temperament or constitution, and not the mere
colour and texture of the skin.
Note 149 page 77. Duke FILIPPO MARIA VISCONTI, (born 1391; died 1447),
was the son of Giangaleotto and Caterina Visconti, and brother of
Giovanni Maria Visconti, whom he succeeded as Duke of Milan in 1412. He
married Beatrice di Tenda (widow of Facino Cane), who brought him nearly
a half million of florins dowry, besides her husband’s soldiers and
cities, and thus enabled him gradually to win back the Lombard part of
his father’s duchy, which his brother had lost. He was very ugly in
person, and so sensitive that he rarely appeared in public. Wily but
unstable, he was continually plotting schemes that seemed to have no
object, and he mistrusted his own generals, even Francesco Sforza, who
turned against him, forced him to a ruinous peace, and after his death
was soon able to seize his duchy. In him the cruel selfishness of the
Renaissance tyrant did not degenerate into mad thirst for blood, as in
the case of his terrible brother. He read Dante, Petrarch and French
romances of chivalry, and even dallied with the Latin classics, but
genuine learning was neglected and despised at his court.
Duke BORSO D'ESTE, (born 1413; died 1471), like his brother and
predecessor, was a natural son of Duke Niccolò III. Kindly and just, he
was idolized by the Ferrarese and especially by the women. He patronized
letters and art and was fond of splendid living, yet in spite of the
luxury of his court, he left a treasure of about a million pounds
sterling. The art of printing was established at Ferrara shortly before
his death. He appears to have been himself ignorant of Latin, and
encouraged the literary use of Italian and the study of French romance.
Histories of Ferrara, as well as the writings of contemporary humanists,
are full of his generous deeds. His mild sway passed into a proverb, and
the time of “the good Duke Borso” was long remembered as a kind of
golden age.
Note 150 page 77. NICCOLῸ PICCININO, (born 1380; died 1444), was so
humbly born as to possess no other surname than that conferred on him in
ridicule of his small stature. Having served under the famous Braccio da
Montone, he married the latter’s niece, and achieved such distinction as
a soldier as to share with Francesco Sforza the fame of being the first
_condottiere_ of his day. He became the friend and general of Duke
Federico of Urbino. His rough wit was highly esteemed.
Note 151 page 77. This consciousness of the corruption then prevailing
in Italy is even more frankly expressed by Machiavelli: “It is but too
true that we Italians are in a special degree irreligious and corrupt.”
(_Discorsi_, I, 12.)
Note 152 page 78. The reference here is to Plato’s _Phædo_, c. 3.
Socrates is said to have turned Æsop’s fables into verse.
Note 153 page 83. The Italian noun _fierezza_ (rendered “boldness”) and
the adjective _fiero_ (more anciently _fero_, the epithet applied by
Petrarch to Achilles, see note 120) are derived from the Latin _ferus_
(wild, untamed, impetuous), the root of which we see in our English word
_fer_ocious. While retaining its etymological signification, _fiero_ was
used to mean also: haughty, intrepid, strong, sturdy.
Note 154 page 87. “Brawls” (Italian, _brandi_; French, _branles_) were a
kind of animated figured dance, said to be of Spanish origin and to have
resembled the modern _cotillon_. A letter by Castiglione mentions this
dance as having been performed by figures dressed as birds in one of the
interludes when Bibbiena’s _Calandra_ was first presented at Urbino.
This and other passages suggest that the use of masks was even more
common in Italian society of the author’s time, than at the present day.
Note 155 page 88. Castiglione’s letters show that he possessed and
played upon a variety of musical instruments, and it is known that in
Duke Federico’s time, the palace of Urbino was well supplied with
instruments and musicians.
Note 156 page 88. Viol is the generic name for the family of bowed
instruments that succeeded the mediæval fiddle and preceded the violin.
Invented in the 15th century, it differed from a violin in having deeper
ribs, a flat back, and a broad centre-piece on which the sound post
rested. Its neck was broad and thin; it had from five to seven strings,
and was made in four sizes, of which the lowest pitched (the _violone_
or double bass) is still in use. The tone of the instrument is said to
have been penetrating rather than powerful.
Note 157 page 89. Wind instruments, and especially the flute, are here
referred to. According to Plutarch, Alcibiades maintained that they were
regarded with disfavour by Pallas and Apollo because the face is
distorted in playing upon them.
[Illustration:
NICCOLÒ PICCININO
1380-1444
]
Reduced from Giraudon’s photograph (no. 252) of a drawing, in the
Louvre, by Vittore Pisano, better known as Pisanello, (1380?-1451?).
Note 158 page 90. The Pythagoreans supposed the intervals between the
heavenly bodies to be determined by the laws of musical harmony. Hence
arose the celebrated doctrine of “the music of the spheres” (already
referred to by Castiglione in the text, page 63); for in their motion
the heavenly bodies must each occasion a certain sound or note depending
on their distances and velocities, which notes together formed a musical
harmony, inaudible to man because he has been accustomed to it from the
first and has never had an opportunity to contrast it with silence, or
because it exceeds his powers of hearing. Pythagoras himself (died about
500 B.C.) taught his disciples to sing to the accompaniment of the lyre,
and to chaunt hymns to the gods and to virtuous men.
Note 159 page 90. As the Italian commentator, Count Vesme, suggests, the
author may have meant to say, “shave twice a day.” A weekly visit to the
barber may, however, have been usually regarded as sufficient at this
time.
Note 160 page 93. In the beginning of his Encomium on Folly (which was
well known in Italy when Castiglione wrote THE COURTIER), Erasmus
pretends that, “although there has been no lack of those who, at great
cost of oil and sleep, have exalted ... the fourth-day ague, the fly,
and baldness, with most tedious praise,” Folly is languishing without a
eulogist. Among the works of Lucian (_flor._ 160 A.D.) there is a brief
humourous book in praise of the fly; the philosopher Favorinus (_flor._
120 A.D.) is said to have written a eulogy on the fourth-day ague; and
there is another on baldness by the early Christian writer, Synesius
(_flor._ 400 A.D.). The men of the Renaissance delighted in similar
displays of wit.
Note 161 page 94. The Italian _procella_ (rendered ‘fury’) primarily
means a tempest, and is so translated in the earliest French and English
versions of THE COURTIER (_estourbillon_, storm). The still earlier
Spanish version has _pestilencia_.
Note 162 page 95. The Italian _impedito_ (rendered ‘palsied’) literally
means entangled as to the feet.
Note 163 page 96. St. Luke, iv, 8 and 10.
Note 164 page 97. In Æsop’s fable, _Asinus Domino Blandiens_, an ass
receives a sound cudgelling for his efforts to win his master’s favour
by caresses that he was ill fitted to bestow.
Note 165 page 100. TITUS MANLIUS,—called TORQUATUS from the chain
(_torques_) that he took from the body of a gigantic Gaul whom he had
slain in single combat,—was a favourite hero of Roman story. The
incident referred to here occurred shortly before a Roman victory over
the Latins at the foot of Vesuvius. Manlius and his colleague in command
had proclaimed that no Roman might engage a Latin singly on pain of
death, but a son of Manlius accepted a challenge from one of the enemy,
slew his adversary, and bore the bloody spoils in triumph to his father,
who thereupon caused the young man to be put to death before the
assembled army. Manlius was Consul in 340 B.C.
Note 166 page 101. PUBLIUS LICINIUS CRASSUS MUCIANUS was Roman Consul in
131 B.C. According to Livy, the incident narrated in the text occurred
during an unsuccessful campaign against Pergamus, which ended in
Crassus’s voluntary death.
Note 167 page 103. Rome was sacked only the year before THE COURTIER was
first published. Italy had become the plaything of foreign conquest.
Note 168 page 103. DARIUS III was King of Persia 336-330 B.C. This story
about his sword seems to be founded on the following passage in Quintus
Curtius Rufus’s History of Alexander the Great: “At the beginning of his
reign, Darius ordered his Persian scabbard to be altered to the form
which the Greeks used; whereupon the Chaldeans prophesied that the
empire of the Persians would pass to those whose arms he had imitated.”
Note 169 page 104. It will be remembered that Bembo was a Venetian.
Note 170 page 104. The coif (_cuffia_) here mentioned seems to have been
a kind of turban made of cloth wound about the head, with the two ends
hanging at the ears.
Note 171 page 105. These unfortunate creatures still abound near
Bergamo.
Note 172 page 106. Pylades and Orestes, like Pirithous and Theseus, are
the famous friends of Greek legend. The historical and no less tender
love between Scipio and Lælius forms the subject of Cicero’s _De
Amicitia_. See note 102.
Note 173 page 109. The fellow’s reward is said to have been a measure of
the peas.
Note 174 page 109. The Italian phrase here rendered ‘goes against the
grain’ is _non gli avrà sangue_ (more usually _non ci avrà il suo
sangue_), and might be more precisely translated ‘will not suit his
humour.’ The ‘as we say’ suggests that the idiom was of recent origin in
Castiglione’s time.
[Illustration:
MAXIMILIAN I
EMPEROR OF GERMANY
1459-1519
]
Reduced from Braun’s photograph (no. 34.074) of the portrait, in the
Imperial Museum at Vienna, by Ambrogio da Predis (_flor._ 1500). In
Morelli’s “Italian Painters” (London: 1892), pp. 180-9, the picture
is described as injured by restoration. See note 390.
Note 175 page 113. GIACOPO SANNAZARO, (born 1458; died 1530), was a
native of Naples, and the son of Giacopo Niccolò and Masella di San
Magno. His boyhood was spent with his mother at San Cipriano, near her
birthplace Salerno. He soon made such progress in Latin and Greek that
he was admitted to the academy of the famous Pontormo, of whom he became
the close friend. Their effigies may be seen together in the Neapolitan
church of Monte Oliveto. He received a villa and a pension from the
scholarly Aragonese dynasty, to which he remained faithful with pen and
sword, following Federico III into exile (see note 401) in 1501, and
returning to Naples only after his king’s death in 1504. He seems to
have had a peaceful and honourable old age, active in works of piety and
charity, and employing his leisure in study and in the society of a
certain noble lady for whom he had formed a lasting Platonic friendship.
His writings include marine eclogues, elegies, etc., in Latin, but his
best known work is _L'Arcadia_, an Italian prose romance interspersed
with verse, of which sixty editions are said to have appeared before
1600. It is regarded by Mahaffy as having originated the idea that the
Greek Arcadia was the especial home of pastoral poetry, and probably
served Sidney as a model for his poem of the same name. Hardly less
famous were Sannazaro’s anti-Borgian epigrams, to which Symonds ascribes
no small part of the gruesome legend of Lucrezia’s crimes. He was buried
in a church built by him near the so-called tomb of Virgil, and his
monument behind the high altar bears the Latin inscription by Bembo, in
which he is described as “near alike to Virgil’s muse and sepulchre.”
Note 176 page 113. Motet is “a term which for the last three hundred
years has been almost exclusively applied to certain pieces of church
music, of moderate length, adapted to Latin words (selected, for the
most part, either from Holy Scripture, or the Roman office-books), and
intended to be sung at high mass, either in place of, or immediately
after, the Plain Chaunt _Offertorium_ of the Day.“ (Grove.) The motet
was sometimes founded on the air of some non-sacred song, as in the case
of Josquin’s _Stabat Mater_, which was based upon the ballad _Comme
Femme_. (Ambros.)
Note 177 page 113. JOSQUIN (more properly JOSSE) DE PRÈS, (born about
1450; died 1521), seems to have been a native of St. Quentin, Hainault,
Belgium, and was one of the celebrated musicians of the Renaissance.
Having been the pupil of Ockenheim, the greatest composer of the day, he
was at the papal court of Sixtus IV, and successively in the service of
Lorenzo de' Medici, Louis XII of France, and the Emperor Maximilian I.
He returned to Italy about 1503 and lived at the court of Ferrara. He is
the earliest composer whose works are preserved in such quantity as
adequately to present his power, and was called “the father of harmony”
by Dr. Burney. Music began to be printed (1498) when Josquin was in his
prime.
Note 178 page 114. Other contemporary evidence amply confirms this
account of the occasional grossness that marked the table manners of the
period.
Note 179 page 115. The two princes here referred to are Ferdinand the
Catholic of Spain (see note 392) and Louis XII of France (see note 250).
Note 180 page 116. PAOLO NICCOLÒ VERNIA, called NICOLETTO (little Nick)
from his shortness of stature, (died 1499), was a native of Chieti, near
the Adriatic. He probably studied at Padua, and remained there teaching
physics, although in 1444 he took his degree in philosophy, and fourteen
years later in medicine. He wrote chiefly on philosophy, but was noted
also as a wit.
Note 181 page 116. “When Frederick Barbarossa attempted to govern the
rebellious Lombard cities in the common interest of the Empire, he
established in their midst a foreign judge, called ‘Podestà,’ _quasi
habens potestatem Imperatoris in hac parte_.... The title of ‘Podestà’
was subsequently conferred upon the official summoned to maintain an
equal balance between the burghers and the nobles.” Symonds’s
“Renaissance in Italy,” ed. 1883, i, 61.
Note 182 page 117. This was the battle of Fornovo (6 July 1495), in
which the Italian forces under the Marquess Gianfrancesco Gonzaga of
Mantua failed to prevent the retreat of Charles VIII towards France.
Both sides claimed a victory, and the marquess even went so far as to
have it commemorated by Mantegna in a picture, “The Madonna of Victory”
(Louvre), which contains his portrait. Castiglione’s father died from
the effect of wounds received in this battle.
Note 183 page 117. The reference here is plainly to Leonardo da Vinci
(see note 96). His contemporaries would naturally regard as chimerical
such devices as steam cannon, paddle wheels for boats, and flying
machines, or such hints as that contained in his _Codex Atlanticus_,
where he suggests the possibility of steam navigation. “He was the first
to explain correctly the dim illumination seen over the rest of the
surface of the moon when the bright part is only a thin crescent. He
pointed out that when the moon was nearly new, the half of the earth
which was then illuminated by the sun was turned nearly directly towards
the moon, and that the moon was in consequence illuminated slightly by
this ‘earthshine,’ just as we are by moonshine. This explanation ...
tended to break down the supposed barrier between terrestrial and
celestial bodies.” Arthur Berry’s “Short History of Astronomy” (London,
1898), p. 91.
Note 184 page 118. Suetonius mentions this characteristic of Cæsar.
Note 185 page 119. This is one of the few passages in The Courtier that
are plainly reminiscent of Dante, who says: “To that truth which hath
the face of falsehood, man must ever close his lips” (_Sempre a quel ver
che ha faccia di menzogna, De' l’uom chiuder la labbra_). _Inferno_,
xvi, 124-5.
Note 186 page 121. The translator admits being at a loss to find an
adequate equivalent for the Italian _argusie_. Our unfamiliar English
adjective ‘argute’ suggests that kind of pungent and witty conceits
which Castiglione is describing.
[Illustration:
CHARLES VIII OF FRANCE
1470-1498
]
Reduced from Alinari’s photograph (no. 2749) of the anonymous bronze
bust in the National Museum at Florence. See note 388.
Note 187 page 121. Bibbiena’s reputation as a wit was well established,
while Canossa seems also to have deserved the same epithet, if we may
judge from a story that has been preserved of him. The count had at Rome
a fine collection of silver plate, including a flagon with a lid in the
form of a tiger. A friend having borrowed this flagon and kept it for
two months, returned it only on demand and with the request that the
count lend him a certain salt-cellar, which had a crab for a cover.
Ludovico sent word that if the tiger, which is the swiftest of beasts,
had been two months coming home, the crab, being slower than all others,
would by the same rule be absent for years, and that on this account he
was unwilling to let it go.
Note 188 page 122. The allusion is of course to Bibbiena’s early
baldness.
Note 189 page 122. Cardinal GALEOTTO DELLA ROVERE, (born about 1477;
died 1508), was the favourite nephew of Julius II, being a son of the
pope’s sister Luchina by her first husband Gianfrancesco Franciotti, a
patrician of Lucca. Like all his mother’s other children, he was adopted
as of the della Rovere name. Having been made Bishop of Lucca, he was
created a cardinal on his uncle’s election as pope, appointed pontifical
vice-chancellor, and soon given a great number of benefices. Generous
and amiable, and a patron of artists and authors, he was much beloved at
the court of Urbino, as is shown by several documents, among which is a
letter by Emilia Pia mentioning two sonnets of his, in one of which
(written the day before his last illness) he foretold his early death.
Note 190 page 123. GIACOMO SANSECONDO, a noted musician who flourished
between the years 1493 and 1522 at the courts of Milan, Mantua, Ferrara,
Urbino and Rome, where he attained a wide celebrity in the pontificate
of Leo X. He seems to have ended his days in adversity, in some degree
relieved by his friend Castiglione, whose letters contain several
affectionate mentions of him.
Note 191 page 124. DEMOCRITUS, (_flor._ 400 B.C.), was the atomistic
philosopher of Abdera in Thrace. He possessed an ample fortune, and his
cheerful disposition led him to look on the bright and humourous side of
things, a fact taken by later writers to mean that he laughed at the
follies of mankind.
Note 192 page 125. The phrase ‘served her in love’ and the conventional
relation that it denoted, were drawn from mediæval life and literature
north of the Alps, and with some changes survived in Italy during the
Renaissance, until the _cavalier servente_ became in the 18th century a
recognized institution. Attendance upon the lady at church was a
characteristic feature of the cavalier’s service.
Note 193 page 126. PIUS III, Francesco Todeschini, (born 1439; died
1503), was a native of Siena and a nephew of the illustrious Æneas
Silvius Piccolomini (Pius II). The suddenness of his predecessor
Alexander VI's death took the sacred college by surprise, and they
unanimously elected their weakest member as pope. His short pontificate
of twenty-six days was filled with disturbances, and he was believed to
have died from poison.
Note 194 page 126. ANTONIO AGNELLO, (died after 1527), belonged to one
of the most noted families of Mantua, and seems to have been the son of
Giulio Agnello and Margarita Crema. Besides being an able man of affairs
(employed by the Palæologus rulers of Montferrat), he was a graceful
poet, and became the friend of Bembo and Castiglione.
Note 195 page 126. The poet CAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS, (born about 87
B.C.), was a native of Verona and a friend of Cæsar and Cicero. His
extant works include one hundred and sixteen poems, lyric, epigrammatic,
elegiac, etc. His 69th Ode is a dialogue between the author and a door.
Note 196 page 127. Pope NICHOLAS V, Tommaso Parentucelli, (born 1398;
died 1455), was a native of Pisa, whence his family were exiled in his
infancy. Although his father died when he was nine years old, and in
spite of great poverty, he contrived to study at the University of
Bologna. Later he served as tutor in the Albizzi and Strozzi families at
Florence, thus earning enough money to return and take his theological
degree at Bologna. He then entered the service of the archbishop of the
latter city, whom he accompanied to Florence, and there became a friend
of Cosimo de' Medici and a member of the literary society of the place.
In 1443 he was made Bishop of Bologna, and four years later was elected
pope, an elevation that he owed solely to his reputation for learning
and to the comparatively small esteem in which the office was then held.
The humanists were delighted at the election of one of their own number.
As pope, he devoted his revenues to maintaining a splendid court, to the
rebuilding of the fortifications and palaces of Rome, and to the
enrichment of scholars. During his pontificate the city became a
work-shop of erudition. He founded the Vatican Library, for which he
collected five thousand volumes, and the list prepared by him for Cosimo
de' Medici to use in beginning the Library of San Marco, was followed
also by Duke Federico of Urbino. He was a small, ugly man.
_Nihil Papa Valet_, ‘the Pope is good for nothing.’
Note 197 page 127. I.e., in the second tale of the Eighth Day.
Note 198 page 127. Calandrino is an unfortunate and very amusing
character appearing in the third and sixth tales of the Eighth Day and
in the fifth tale of the Ninth Day.
Note 199 page 128. Niccolò Campani, called STRASCINO, (born 1478; died
between 1522 and 1533), was an excellent actor of Sienese rustic
comedies and farces, and the author of verses and of a Lament that was
very popular in the 16th century. He frequented the court of Leo X, and
several of Castiglione’s letters (1521) tell of efforts to secure the
actor’s services for the Marquess of Mantua, and of furnishing him with
twenty-five ducats, a horse, and a papal pass, for the purpose.
Note 200 page 128. ‘This place,’ i.e., Urbino.
[Illustration:
POPE NICHOLAS V
TOMMASO PARENTUCELLI
1398-1455
]
Enlarged from a coloured cast of a medal, in the King’s Library at the
British Museum, by Andrea Guazzalotti (1435-1495). See Armand’s _Les
Médailleurs Italiens_, i, 49, no. 6.
Note 201 page 129. The reader will hardly need to be reminded that the
great Roman orator was often spoken of as Tullius or Tully rather than
as Cicero.
Note 202 page 129. When THE COURTIER was expurgated by Antonio
Ciccarelli in 1584 (see LIST OF EDITIONS), Dante’s name was here
substituted for that of St. Paul. The word _becco_ (rendered ‘he-goat’)
has long been used by the Italians as a term of jocose reproach applied
to a man whose wife is unfaithful.
Note 203 page 129. Duke ERCOLE I D'ESTE, (born 1431; died 1505), was the
legitimate son of Duke Niccolò III and Rizzarda di Saluzzo. Bred at the
Neapolitan court, he became Duke of Ferrara on the death of his
half-brother Borso (see note 149) in 1471. In 1473 he married Eleanora
of Aragon, daughter of Ferdinand I of Naples. Among the six children of
this union were: Isabella, who became Marchioness of Mantua (see note
397); Beatrice, who became Duchess of Milan (see note 398); Alfonso, who
married Lucrezia Borgia and succeeded his father as duke; and the
Cardinal Ippolito already mentioned (see note 64). Although his reign
was far from peaceful, his court was noted for its luxury and for the
brilliancy of art and letters with which it was adorned. He was an
especial patron of the theatre, no less than five comedies of Plautus
being performed during the wedding festivities of his son Alfonso in
1502. On the other hand, he maintained relations with Savonarola, who
was a native of Ferrara.
Note 204 page 130. Castellina was a small walled town in the Chianti
hills, which was held as a Florentine outpost against Siena. The siege
referred to in the text took place in 1478, when the place capitulated
to the Neapolitan and papal troops after holding out for forty days.
Duke of Calabria was the title regularly borne by the heir of each
Aragonese king of Naples. The personage here meant must have been
Alfonso the Younger (see note 31).
Note 205 page 130. While the meaning is not free from doubt, the point
of the story seems to lie in the absurdity of the Florentine’s supposing
that after being discharged from a cannon, a projectile would retain any
poison previously applied to it.
Note 206 page 130. It will be remembered that Bembo was a Venetian,
while Bibbiena’s birthplace was a Florentine town.
Note 207 page 130. This war lasted from 1494 to 1509, and proved ruinous
to both sides. Castiglione’s use of the past tense in speaking of it
here doubtless arose from the fact that he was writing several years
after the date that he assigns to the dialogues.
Note 208 page 131. Pistoia and Prato were two small cities which lay to
the north-west of Florence and were subject to its rule. Modern issues
of “fiat” money are but a slight modification of the method proposed by
the worthy Florentine.
Note 209 page 131. Bucentaur was the name of the state galley of the
Venetian Republic, used (among other occasions) in the symbolic ceremony
of wedding the Adriatic, which was enjoined upon the Venetians by
Alexander III (pope 1159-1181) to commemorate their victory over the
fleet of Frederick Barbarossa. On each Ascension Day a ring was dropped
from the Bucentaur into the Adriatic, with the words, “we espouse thee,
sea, in token of true and lasting dominion.” The vessel bore the image
of a centaur as figure-head. Of the last of several successive
Bucentaurs (demolished in 1824), a few fragments are preserved in the
Arsenal at Venice. In the 15th and 16th centuries the name was applied
to state vessels of ceremony elsewhere. By some the word is supposed to
be derived from the Greek βοῦς (ox) and κένταυρος (centaur); by others
it is regarded as a corruption of the Latin _ducentorum_ (of two hundred
oars), or of the Italian _buzino d’oro_ (golden bark).
[Illustration:
GIROLAMO DONATO
1457-1511
]
Enlarged from a photograph, courteously furnished by the Director of the
Municipal Art Museum at Milan, of a small anonymous bas-relief
belonging to the Taverna collection. See Armand’s _Les Médailleurs
Italiens_, ii, 226, no. 11.
Note 210 page 133. This tale, not unworthy of Munchausen, may have been
suggested to Castiglione by a passage in one of the minor works of
Plutarch, who relates that Antiphanes (a friend of Plato) said that “he
visited a certain city where words froze as soon as spoken, by reason of
the great cold; and later, sounds uttered in winter melted in the spring
and were heard by the inhabitants.” Although Plutarch represents the
story as told in illustration of the way in which “those who came as
young men to listen to Plato’s talk, understood it only long afterwards,
when they had grown old,” it is worth noting that an Antiphanes, of
Berga in Thrace, is known as a writer on the marvellous and incredible.
Note 211 page 133. Vasco da Gama rounded the southern extremity of
Africa and reached India nine years before the date of the Courtier
dialogues.
Note 212 page 133. This must have been Emanuel I, who was King of
Portugal from 1495 until his death in 1521, and who promoted the
expeditions of da Gama and other Portuguese navigators.
Note 213 page 134. Taffety was a very light soft silk fabric. There is
extant a letter of Bembo’s (1541), in which the aged cardinal orders two
cushions filled with swan’s down and covered with crimson taffety. The
word is said to be derived from the Persian _taftah_ (twisted, woven).
Taft is the name of a town in central Persia.
Note 214 page 134. ANNIBAL PALEOTTO, (died 1516), belonged to an ancient
and honourable Bolognese family (with which Castiglione is known to have
been on friendly terms), and was the son of an eminent jurist, Vincenzo
Paleotto, who died in 1498. Leo X made Annibale a senator of Bologna in
1514, the brief being written by Bembo.
Note 215 page 135. Giacopo di Nino was BISHOP OF POTENZA from 1506 until
1521, and seems to have been a butt for the ridicule of Leo X's court.
Note 216 page 136. An earlier version of this passage reads: “And of
this kind was what Rinaldo in the _Morgante_ said to the Giant: ‘Where
do you hang your spectacles?’” The _Morgante Maggiore_ is a
serio-burlesque romantic poem by Luigi Pulci (1431-1487), introducing,
among other characters of mediæval romance, Rinaldo, his cousin Orlando,
and the giant Morgante.
Note 217 page 136. GALEOTTO MARZI DA NARNI, (born about 1427; died about
1490), a singular example of the adventurer-humanist, studied at the
universities of Padua and Bologna, and taught at the latter place. He
twice visited the court of Matthias Corvinus of Hungary, for whom he
wrote a book on jests. He was something of an astrologer and also the
author of a work on chiromancy. Being accused of heresy, he was
imprisoned at Venice in 1477, and condemned to make public recantation
in the Piazzetta with a crown of devils on his head. He is said to have
been learned and witty. The story given in the text became almost
proverbial.
Note 218 page 136. The present form (_bisticcio_) of _bischisso_
(rendered ‘playing on words’) has a meaning somewhat different from that
indicated in the text,—being the term applied to a succession of words
the similarity of whose sound renders them difficult to pronounce, e.g.,
“Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.”
Note 219 page 136. At this time the general use of family names was
comparatively recent, and their form was somewhat variable. Thus, such
surnames as Pio and Fregoso were treated as still being, what they
doubtless originally were, merely personal epithets, and so were given
the feminine form (Pia, Fregosa) when applied to women. The adjective
_pia_ means dutiful, pious, kind, while _impia_ or _empia_ of course
means the reverse.
Note 220 page 136. “The greatest of the Furies is my bedfellow.” With a
change of one syllable in the Latin, this becomes _Furiarum maxima juxta
accubat_ (“The greatest of the Furies lies hard by”), Æneid, V, 605-6.
Note 221 page 136. GERONIMO DONATO, (born 1457; died 1511), was a native
of Venice, where he held many public offices, besides being sent abroad
as ambassador of the Republic, especially to the courts of Alexander VI
and Julius II. He also enjoyed no small fame as a cultivator of science,
art and letters (particularly Greek and theology). The incident narrated
in the text occurred during his embassy to Alexander, to whom on another
occasion he made a far wittier retort. Being jestingly asked by the pope
where Venice got its right of lordship over the Adriatic, he answered:
“Let your Holiness show me the title deed to the Patrimony of St. Peter,
and on the back of it will be found inscribed the grant to the Venetians
of their dominion over the Adriatic.”
Note 222 page 136. In the Roman Church a “station” (_stasione_) is a
church where indulgences are granted at certain seasons. In earlier
times such churches were visited in solemn procession, which afterwards
came to be regarded as an opportunity for social recreation. The word is
used also to designate the indulgences earned by visiting, on appointed
days, many churches founded by popes.
Note 223 page 136. “As many stars as heaven, so many girls hath thy
Rome,” Ovid’s _Ars Amandi_, I, 59.
Note 224 page 136. “As many kids as the pasture, so many satyrs hath thy
Rome,” is as close an English rendering as Donato’s Latin will bear.
Note 225 page 136. MARCANTONIO DELLA TORRE belonged to an ancient noble
family of Verona, was a famous anatomist, and is said to have included
Leonardo da Vinci among his pupils. He died at the age of thirty, and
was highly praised for his learning. His father Geronimo lectured on
medicine at Padua.
Pietro Barozzi became ARCHBISHOP OF PADUA in 1487, and died in 1507.
Bandello (who had read THE COURTIER in MS.) relates the same story in
somewhat wittier form, but gives the name of the prelate as Gerardo
Landriano, Bishop of Como.
Note 226 page 137. St. Luke, xvi, 2.
Note 227 page 137. St. Matthew, xxv, 20.
Note 228 page 137. PROTO DA LUCCA was one of the most famous buffoons
who enlivened the pontifical court at the beginning of the 16th century.
If, as seems probable, the incident in question occurred in January 1506
(when Bernardino Lei died and was succeeded by Antonio da Castriani as
Bishop of Cagli, a town near Urbino), the pope in question must have
been Julius II, to whom the epithet ‘very grave’ would be entirely
appropriate.
Note 229 page 138. The play is upon the word ‘office’ in its two
meanings of post or employment, and breviary or prayer-book. In the
latter sense, the ‘full office’ contained the psalms, lessons,
etc.,—while the ‘Madonna’s office’ was much abbreviated.
Note 230 page 138. GIOVANNI CALFURNIO, (born 1443; died 1503), was a
gentle and laborious humanist, born at or near Bergamo, but long
resident at Padua, where he held the chair of rhetoric. His chief work
consisted in correcting and commenting upon the texts of Latin poets.
The ‘another man at Padua’ was probably Raffaele Regio (a fellow
professor with Calfurnio), who publicly ridiculed his colleague as the
son of a charcoal-burner. Calfurnio seems to have published very little;
on his death he bequeathed his library to the church of San Giovanni in
Verdara, from which his tomb and portrait relief have recently been
removed to a cloister of the monastery of St. Antony at Padua.
[Illustration:
GIOVANNI CALFURNIO
Died 1503
]
From a photograph, specially made by Agostini, of the anonymous tomb
relief removed from the Church of San Giovanni di Verdara to a
cloister in the Monastery of Sant'Antonio at Padua.
Note 231 page 138. Tommaso Inghirami, “FEDRA,” (born 1470; died 1516),
was a native patrician of Volterra (a town about midway between Pisa and
Siena), being the son of Paolo Inghirami and Lucrezia Barlettani. Having
passed his early boyhood at Florence, he removed to Rome in 1483, where
he played the part of _Phædra_ in Seneca’s tragedy _Hippolytus_ (upon
which Racine founded his _Phèdre_) with such success that the name clung
to him for life. The play being interrupted by an accident to the
scenery, he filled the interval by improvising Latin verses for the
entertainment of the audience. The performance took place in the
mausoleum of the Emperor Hadrian, which was afterwards converted into
the fortress known as the Castle of St. Angelo. Tommaso was employed by
Alexander VI in diplomatic affairs, crowned poet by the Emperor
Maximilian I, and made a canon of the Lateran and of the Vatican. He
seems to have been connected with the Vatican Library as early as 1505,
and became its prefect. Although Erasmus called him the Cicero of his
time, his fame now rests rather on his portrait in the Pitti Gallery at
Florence, than on his works.
Note 232 page 138. CAMILLO PALEOTTO was a brother of the Annibal
Paleotto already mentioned (see note 214). On his father’s death in
1498, he went to Rome, where he became the friend of Federico Fregoso,
Bembo and Castiglione. He taught rhetoric at Bologna and was Chancellor
of the Senate there. There also he is said to have died in 1530,
although a letter of Bembo’s speaks of him in 1518 as then already dead.
Note 233 page 138. ANTONIO PORCARO, or PORZIO, belonged to a noble Roman
family, and was a brother of the Camillo Porcaro mentioned in THE
COURTIER (at page 140). He had also a twin brother Valerio, whom he so
closely resembled that the two were often mistaken, one for the other,
as Bibbiena says in the preface to his _Calandra_,—the plot of which is
founded upon a similar resemblance. Little more is known of Antonio than
that he suffered some grievous wrong from Alexander VI.
Note 234 page 138. Regarding GIANTOMMASO GALEOTTO, Cian furnishes no
information. The Spanish annotator, Fabié, adds Marcio (Marzio) to his
name,—thus apparently treating him as identical with the Galeotto da
Narni mentioned above at page 136,—and says that he “died, by reason of
his great corpulence, from a fall from his horse, being in the train of
Charles VIII of France, when the latter entered Milan.” As “My lord
Prefect” was only four years old when Charles entered Milan in 1494,
this identification seems clearly erroneous.
Note 235 page 139. FILIPPO BEROALDO, (born 1472; died 1518), belonged to
a noble Bolognese family. Having been one of his famous uncle Filippo
the elder’s most brilliant pupils in the classics, he was at the age of
twenty-six made professor of literature at Bologna, and afterwards at
Rome. In 1511 he successfully defended Duke Francesco Maria of Urbino
against the charge of murdering Cardinal Alidosi. Instead of seeking to
extenuate the deed, as done in heat and under strong provocation, he
boldly justified it on the ground that his client was the instrument
chosen by the Almighty to rid the world of a monster of wickedness, and
eloquently appealed to the tribunal to spare a hero whose promise of
future usefulness was precious to Italy. Beroaldo was secretary to
Cardinal Giovanni de' Medici, and on the latter’s election as pope, he
was made Provost of the Roman Academy, while at Inghirami’s death he was
made Librarian of the Vatican, as a reward for editing the recently
discovered first five books of Tacitus’s Annals. He died at Rome, partly
(it is said) from vexation at not being paid the stipend of his office.
Bembo wrote his epitaph. Although he was celebrated for erudition and
eloquence rather than for authorship, he left three books of odes, and
one of epigrams,—in Latin.
Note 236 page 139. The pupil obviously used the phrase in its low Latin
meaning, “Master, God give you good evening.” Beroaldo jocosely accepted
it in its classical meaning, “Master, God give you good, late.”
Note 237 page 139. “Evil to thee, soon.”
Note 238 page 139. DIEGO DE CHIGNONES, (died 1512), was a Spanish
cavalier, of whom Branthôme writes as follows: “This Great Captain had
for lieutenant, with a company of one hundred men-at-arms, Don Diego de
Quignones, who supported him in his combats and victories, and was truly
a good and brave lieutenant to him. After the Great Captain’s death, he
had sole command of his company of an hundred men-at-arms, as he well
deserved to have. He commanded it at the battle of Ravenna, where he
died like a brave and valiant captain. And if all had behaved as he did
(say the old Spaniards), the victory that the French won there would
have cost them dearer than it did, although it cost them dear.”
Note 239 page 139. Don Gonzalvo Hernand y Aguilar, better known as
Consalvo de Cordoba, or THE GREAT CAPTAIN, (born 1443; died 1515), was a
native of Montilla, near Cordova, and belonged to an ancient family of
Spanish grandees. His father’s name was Pietro, and his mother’s was
Elvira Errea. Bred to war in early youth and knighted on the field of
battle at the age of sixteen, he followed the fortunes of Ferdinand the
Catholic, and took an active part in the conquest of Granada. In 1494 he
was sent to Italy to aid Ferdinand II of Naples against Charles VIII,
won a long succession of victories over the French, and was finally made
Constable and Viceroy of Naples. Later, Ferdinand the Catholic,
listening to slanderous reports regarding him, deprived him of office,
and in 1507 recalled him to Spain, where he died in disgrace. His good
qualities were much admired by Castiglione, who had fought against him,
but his fame was not unstained by acts of cruelty and bad faith, which
(it is fair to say) were common at the time and seem to have been
committed only against his master’s foes. Giorgione is said to have
painted his portrait at Venice, and a life of him by Paolo Giovio was
published at Florence in 1552.
[Illustration:
CONSALVO DE CORDOBA
“THE GREAT CAPTAIN”
1443-1515
]
Enlarged from a negative, specially made by Alinari through the courtesy
of Professor I. B. Supino, of Annibal’s medal in the National Museum
at Florence. See Armand’s _Les Médailleurs Italiens_, i, 176.
Note 240 page 139. The Spanish word _vino_ means not only “wine” but
also “he came.” In pronunciation it would be easily mistaken for _Y-no_.
_Y no lo conocistes_ is the Spanish for “And thou knewest Him not.”
Compare St. John, i, 11.
Note 241 page 139. The word _marano_ (here rendered “heretic”) meant a
renegade Moor, and is said by Symonds to have been generally used in
Italy at this time as a term of reproach against Spaniards.
Note 242 page 139. GIACOMO SADOLETO, (born 1477; died 1547), was a
native of Modena and the son of a noted jurist, Giovanni Sadoleto. He
studied Latin at Ferrara and Greek at Rome, where he settled in the
pontificate of Alexander VI and acquired a great reputation for
learning. Leo X appointed him a secretary at the same time with Bembo,
(who shared with him the name of being the best Latinist of the day),
and soon made him Bishop of Carpentras, a town fifteen miles north-east
of Avignon. He was secretary also to Clement VII, to whom he boldly
declared that the sack of Rome (1527) was inflicted by God as a
punishment for human wickedness. Paul III created him a cardinal in
1536. A sincerely pious man, he was conscious of the evils of the Church
and did not escape suspicion of heresy. He was a close friend of
Vittoria Colonna, and the Roman Academy often met at his house on the
Quirinal. Besides Latin poems (one of which, on the newly discovered
Laocoön group, made him famous), his works include commentaries on the
Psalms and the Epistle to the Romans, and a Latin exhortation to the
princes and people of Germany against Lutheran heresies. Although far
from rich, he was very charitable, especially in providing young men of
his flock with the means of education.
Note 243 page 139. LUDOVICO DA SAN BONIFACIO is identified by Cian as a
Paduan, who held the offices of prothonotary and private chamberlain
under Leo X, successfully disputed with Bembo the possession of a
canonry at Padua in 1514, was sent to different courts by Leo, and died
at Padua in 1545.
ERCOLE RANGONE, (died 1572), belonged to an illustrious family of
Modena, and achieved some note as a soldier and diplomatist, having
commanded the Florentine forces in 1529, and served as Ferrarese
ambassador to France, Spain and Germany. He was esteemed by Castiglione,
of whose wife Ippolita Torello he seems to have been a kinsman.
The COUNT OF PEPOLI probably belonged to a noble Bolognese family of
that name, but has not been identified with certainty.
Note 244 page 140. Of SALLAZA DALLA PEDRADA nothing seems to be known
beyond the mention of him in the text.
Note 245 page 140. PALLA DEGLI STROZZI, (born 1372; died 1462), was a
wealthy and cultivated Florentine patrician. Having honourably filled
high offices of state, he was banished by Cosimo de' Medici in 1434 for
ten years to Padua. Himself an enthusiastic scholar and patron of
classical studies, he caused many Greek MSS. to be brought into Italy
(including works of Plato, Aristotle and Plutarch), and was the first
Italian to collect books for the express purpose of founding a public
library, in the execution of which design he was prevented by his exile
from anticipating Cosimo. He employed learned Greeks to read to him, and
was instrumental in inducing Chrysoloras to teach at Florence,—an
engagement regarded by Symonds as having secured the future of Hellenic
study in Europe. The story narrated of him in the text is elsewhere told
of an exile belonging to the Albizzi family.
Note 246 page 140. COSIMO DE' MEDICI, _Pater Patriæ_, (born 1389; died
1464), was a Florentine banker, statesman and patron of literature and
art. In his father Giovanni’s house of business he cultivated the rare
faculty for finance that he afterwards employed in public administration
and private commerce. He inherited his father’s vast fortune in 1429,
and made it a practice to lend money to needy citizens and at the same
time to involve the affairs of Florence with his own,—thus not only
attaching individuals to his interests, but rendering it difficult to
control state expenditures apart from his own bank. He understood also
how to use his money without exciting jealousy, and while he spent large
sums on public works, he declined the architect Brunelleschi’s plans for
a residence more befitting a prince than a citizen. He was an early
riser, and temperate and simple in his life. While ruling Florence with
despotic power, he seemed intent on the routine of his counting-house,
and put forward other men to execute his political schemes. Despite
occasional checks, he so firmly established the influence of his family
as the real rulers of Florence that they were not permanently expelled
until the nineteenth century. Much of his power was due to sympathy with
the intellectual movement of the age, and although he was not a Greek
scholar, he had a solid education, and collected MSS., gems, coins and
inscriptions, employing his commercial agents in the work. During a year
of exile, he built a library at Venice, and later he built one at
Florence and another at Fiesole. His house was the centre of a literary
and philosophical society, which included all the wits of Florence and
the strangers who flocked to that capital of culture.
Note 247 page 140. CAMILLO PORCARO, or PORZIO, (died 1517), was a
brother of the Antonio Porcaro already mentioned in THE COURTIER (at
page 138; see note 233). He was a professor of rhetoric at Rome, and a
canon of St. Peter’s. Leo X made him Bishop of Teramo, a town near the
Adriatic north-east of Rome. He was a member of the Roman Academy, and
some of his Latin verse has survived.
[Illustration:
COSIMO DE' MEDICI
_PATER PATRIÆ_
1389-1464
]
Enlarged from a coloured cast of a medal (no. 31), in the King’s Library
at the British Museum, attributed to Niccolò Fiorentino.
Note 248 page 140. MARCANTONIO COLONNA, (died 1522), the son of
Pierantonio Colonna and Bernardina Conti, was a second cousin of
Vittoria Colonna. His wife Lucrezia Gara della Rovere was a niece of
Julius II and sister of the Cardinal Galeotto della Rovere already
mentioned (at page 122; see note 189). In 1502 he fled from Rome to
escape the persecution of the Borgias, repaired to the kingdom of
Naples, and took service under the “Great Captain.” He served also in
the armies of Julius II, Maximilian I, and Francis I, and took part in
nearly all the wars of his time. He was cited as a model of physical
beauty and martial prowess.
Note 249 page 141. DIEGO GARZIA is regarded by the Spanish annotator,
Fabié, as identical with the famous warrior Diego Garcia de Paredes,
(born 1466; died 1530), who began the life of a soldier at the age of
twelve, and had a brilliant share, with the “Great Captain,” in the
expulsion of the Moors from Spain and later in the Italian campaigns. He
was a man of great height and strength, and is said on one occasion to
have stopped the wheel of a rapidly moving wind-mill with his single
hand. Charles V made him a Knight of the Golden Spur, and he is often
called the Chevalier Bayard of Spain.
Note 250 page 141. LOUIS XII, (born 1462; died 1515), was the son of
Duke Charles d'Orléans and Anne of Cleves. He accompanied Charles VIII
into Italy in 1494, became king on his cousin’s death in 1498, and the
following year married Charles’s widow Anne of Brittany. In 1500 he
expelled Duke Ludovico Sforza of Milan, to whose duchy he laid claim as
the grandson of Valentina Visconti. The following year he conquered
Naples in alliance with Ferdinand the Catholic, but quarrelled with his
ally over the division of the country, with the result that his force
was defeated by the “Great Captain” at Garigliano in 1503, and withdrew
from Naples in 1504. He joined the League of Cambray against Venice in
1508, but in 1511 the Holy League was formed against him, and in 1513
the French were again compelled to leave Italy. On the death of Anne of
Brittany in 1514, he married Mary, the youthful sister of Henry VIII of
England, to whom in dying (1 January 1515) he is reported to have said:
“Dear, I leave thee my death as a New Year’s gift.” He was sincerely
regretted by his subjects, and was known as “The Father of His People.”
Michelet says of him: “He was a good man, honest by nature, sometimes
absurd, indiscreet, talkative, testy; but he had a heart, and the only
way for men to flatter him was to persuade him that they desired the
good of his subjects.” Among his sayings was “Good king, stingy king; I
prefer to be ridiculous to my courtiers, than deaf to my people.”
Note 251 page 141. DJEM or ZIZIM, (born 1459; died 1495), was a son of
Mahomet II, the conqueror of Constantinople. On the death of his father
in 1481, he tried to dispossess his brother as sultan, but being
defeated, he sought refuge at Rhodes, where the Knights of the Order of
St. John received him for a while, and then sent him to France. In 1489
he was surrendered to the custody of Innocent VIII, from whom he passed
into the hands of Alexander VI. Both these pontiffs received a subsidy
for his maintenance from his brother the sultan. In 1495 Charles VIII
took him to Naples, where he was imprisoned and soon died from the
effect (it is supposed) of poison administered at Rome by order of
Alexander VI. Of his life at the papal court, we get the following
glimpse in a letter from Mantegna to the Marquess of Mantua: “The Turk’s
brother is here, strictly guarded in the palace of his Holiness, who
allows him all sorts of diversion, such as hunting, music, and the like.
He often comes to eat in this new palace where I paint [i.e., the
Belvedere], and, for a barbarian, his manners are not amiss. There is a
sort of majestic bearing about him, and he never doffs his cap to the
Pope, having in fact none;... He eats five times a day, and sleeps as
often; before meals he drinks sugared water like a monkey. He has the
gait of an elephant, but his people praise him much, especially for his
horsemanship: it may be so, but I have never seen him take his feet out
of the stirrups, or give any other proof of skill. He is a most savage
man, and has stabbed at least four persons, who are said not to have
survived four hours. A few days ago, he gave such a cuffing to one of
his interpreters that they had to carry him to the river, in order to
bring him round. It is believed that Bacchus pays him many a visit. On
the whole he is dreaded by those about him. He takes little heed of
anything, like one who does not understand or has no reason. His way of
life is quite peculiar; he sleeps without undressing, and gives audience
sitting cross-legged, in the Parthian fashion. He carries on his head
sixty thousand yards of linen, and wears so long a pair of trousers that
he is lost in them, and astonishes all beholders.”
Note 252 page 141. The GRAND TURK in question was Bajazet II, (born
1447; died 1512), who succeeded his father (Mahomet II, the conqueror of
Constantinople) in 1481, was almost uninterruptedly engaged in war with
Hungary, Venice, Egypt and Persia, was deposed by his son Selim, and
died soon afterwards. He was repeatedly invited by Alexander VI to
invade Europe and fight the pope’s Christian enemies. The friendly
relations between the two were closely connected with the captivity of
Bajazet’s brother, just mentioned. As a token of his gratitude, the Turk
sent Innocent VIII the “Lance of Longinus,” the centurion who was
supposed to have pierced the Saviour’s side on Calvary and afterwards to
have been converted to Christianity. As a reward for the death of his
brother, he sent Alexander VI a sum of money equivalent to over £500,000
sterling, and a tunic alleged to have been worn by the Saviour. These,
however, were intercepted by the pope’s enemy, Giuliano della Rovere,
afterwards Julius II.
Note 253 page 142. The Archbishopric of Florence was occupied by Roberto
Folco from 1481 until his death in 1530.
‘The Alexandrian cardinal’ is the name by which Giannantonio di
Sangiorgio, (born 1439; died 1509), was commonly known. At the age of
twenty-seven he became professor of canon law at Pavia. In 1479 he was
made Bishop of Alexandria, and soon afterwards called to Rome and made
an Auditor of the _Ruota_ (see note 292), which office he continued to
hold until he was created a cardinal in 1493. He was regarded as the
most eminent jurist of his day.
[Illustration:
BAJAZET II OF TURKEY
1447-1512
]
Enlarged, with the courteous permission of the Director of the New York
Public Library, from a photographic copy of an engraving in Paolo
Giovio’s “Eulogy.”
Note 254 page 142. Besides the mention of this NICOLETTO in the text,
nothing more seems to be known of him beyond the following anecdote: “Of
messer Nicoletto da Orvieto it is narrated that, being in the service of
that very courteous pontiff Pope Leo, he once won the lasting favour of
his Holiness with only four words; for one day, the talk turning upon a
certain vacant benefice which was sought after by a member of the
Vitelli family to whom it could be given, he said humourously: ‘Holy
Father, fitness requires that it be by all means conferred on Vitello
(calf), the more because it has no nearer or closer kinsman than he
is,’—playing on the word ‘vacant,’ which he seemed to derive from
_vacca_ (cow), the mother of the calf.” Garzoni’s _L’Hospidale de’ Pazzi
Incurabili_, (Piacenza: 1586), page 142.
Note 255 page 142. Antonio Cammelli, (born 1440; died 1502), called
PISTOIA from the name of his birthplace, was a prolific writer of verse,
chiefly sonnets of a humourous and satirical character, which have no
small historical value. He spent the larger part of his life in the
service of the d’Este at Ferrara, and in that of Duke Ludovico Sforza,
of Milan, to whom he remained faithful in adversity. An edition of his
verse was published at Turin by Renier in 1888.
The SERAFINO here mentioned is identified by Cian as a now almost
forgotten lyric poet, Serafino Ciminelli, (born 1466; died 1500), who
was a native of Aquila (fifty-five miles north-east of Rome), and a
welcome guest at the courts of Naples, Rome, Urbino, Mantua and Milan.
His verse was by some preferred to that of Petrarch, and the unbounded
popularity which he enjoyed was doubtless due to the skill with which he
improvised to his own accompaniment on the lute. He was a short ugly man
of elfish appearance.
Note 256 page 142. GIOVANNI GONZAGA, (born 1474; died 1523), was the
third son of the Marquess Federico of Mantua and Margarita of Bavaria.
He married Laura Bentivoglio, fought in his youth against Charles VIII,
and in 1512 was in the service of the Sforza family. He was employed
also by his brother Gianfrancesco, Marquess of Mantua, in political
negotiations. In 1519, on the death of Lucrezia Borgia, he wrote to his
nephew, the new Marquess Federico of Mantua: “Lucrezia’s death
occasioned much grief throughout the city, and his Ducal Highness in
particular displayed extreme distress. Men here tell wonderful things of
her life: for the last ten years she wore a hair shirt; and for two
years she has been in the habit of confessing every day, and of
attending Communion three or four times a month.”
Note 257 page 142. Giovanni’s son ALESSANDRO GONZAGA was born in 1497,
and died in 1527.
Note 258 page 142. GIACOMO D’ATRI (or d’Adria Picena) was made Count of
PIANELLA by Ferdinand II of Naples in 1496, as a reward for faithful
service. He acted as confidential secretary to the Marquess
Gianfrancesco of Mantua in various wars, and especially in the campaigns
against Charles VIII.
Note 259 page 143. PHILIP II of Macedon, the conqueror of Greece, was
born 382 and died 336 B.C.
Note 260 page 143. This retort has by others been ascribed to a
Florentine ambassador at Siena, and his name given as Guido del Pelagio.
Note 261 page 144. MARIO DE’ MAFFEI DA VOLTERRA, (born 1464; died 1537),
occupied successively the offices of Archpriest at Volterra, Sacristan
of the Vatican, Bishop of Aquino, and Bishop of Cavaillon in France.
Note 262 page 144. AGOSTINO BEVAZZANO or Beazzano, (_flor._ 1500-1550),
was born at Treviso, near Venice, of which republic his ancestor
Francesco had been chancellor in the 15th century. His own portrait hung
in the Grand Council Chamber at Venice. He lived some time in Venice,
but in 1514 he was employed as secretary by Bembo and sent to Leo X at
Rome, where he resided chiefly until 1526. Besides being a noted writer
of Italian and Latin verse, he acquired great skill in public affairs
and came to be regarded as an oracle at the papal court. Late in life he
was painfully afflicted with gout, and passed the last years of his life
at Verona and at Treviso, where he died and was buried in the cathedral.
Note 263 page 145. The MARQUESS FEDERICO GONZAGA of Mantua, (born 1440;
died 1484), was the son of the Marquess Ludovico and Barbara of
Brandenburg, and married Margarita, daughter of Duke Albert III of
Bavaria. His family attained sovereign power at Mantua in 1354 and
continued to exercise it for nearly four centuries. Having succeeded to
the marquisate on the death of his father in 1478, he expelled from
Italy the Swiss who were besieging Lugano, joined the Milanese in a
league against the pope in 1479, and in 1482 joined another league
against Venice. He is said to have committed suicide.
Note 264 page 145. NICCOLÒ LEONICO TOMEO, (born 1456; died 1531), was a
native of Venice, and belonged to an Albanian family. He studied Greek
under Chalcondylas at Florence, and for many years taught philosophy at
Padua, being the first Italian to expound Aristotle from the original
text. He wrote philosophical and moral dialogues and also some Italian
verse. His friend Bembo wrote of him: “An illustrious philosopher both
in life and learning, equally versed in Latin and Greek, wherein he
lived and dwelt, leaving ambition and thirst for riches to others.” He
was also a wit.
Note 265 page 145. AGOSTINO FOGLIETTA, (died 1527), was a Genoese
nobleman, who exercised great authority at Rome under Leo X and Clement
VII. He was a warm friend of Castiglione, who received cordial aid from
him in the efforts that were made on behalf of Francesco Maria della
Rovere. He was slain in the sack of Rome by a shot from an arquebuse. In
other MS. versions of THE COURTIER the names of Fedra (Tommaso
Inghirami) and Antonio di Tommaso appear in place of Foglietta’s.
[Illustration:
ALFONSO I OF NAPLES
1385-1458
]
Reduced from Giraudon’s photograph (no. 137) of a drawing, in the
Louvre, by Vittore Pisano, better known as Pisanello, (1380?-1451?).
The drawing is believed to have been used in designing medals.
Note 266 page 146. GIOVANNI DI CARDONA was a Spanish soldier in the
service of the “Great Captain” and of Cesare Borgia. He had a brother
Ugo (mentioned at page 147, see note 271) and another brother Pedro, who
was Count of Gosilano. Giovanni seems to have fallen at the battle of
Ravenna in 1512.
Note 267 page 146. Of ALFONSO SANTACROCE nothing more is known than is
contained in this mention of him in the text.
Note 268 page 146. Francesco Alidosi, CARDINAL OF PAVIA, (died 1511),
was descended from the Lords of Imola, being the second son of the Lord
of Castel del Rio. Having been educated for the Church, he attached
himself to Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, whose lasting gratitude he
won by steadfastly refusing to poison the cardinal at the desire of
Alexander VI. On the accession of Julius II, he was rapidly promoted in
spite of the objections raised in the consistory on the score of his
questionable character. He was made Bishop of Miletus, Bishop of Pavia,
a cardinal (1505), Legate of the Patrimony, Legate of Romagna, and
Archbishop of Bologna. In these offices he proved violently tyrannical
and a ruthless and bloody persecutor, especially of the Bolognese
partisans of the Bentivogli; so that the city rose against him in 1511
and drove him out. His assassination by young Francesco Maria della
Rovere has been already mentioned (see note 3). The odium connected with
his name finds an echo also in another passage in the text, page 151.
Note 269 page 146. ALFONSO I of Naples, (born 1385; died 1458),
succeeded his father Ferdinand the Just as King of Aragon and Sicily in
1416, and in 1435 managed to enforce against René of Provence his double
claim to Naples, based upon his descent from the former Hohenstauffen
rulers of that kingdom, and also upon his adoption as heir by the last
Angevin queen of Naples. Scholarly, enlightened, generous and
benevolent, he was the ideal type of royal Mæcenas and the hero of his
century. He often went afoot and alone about his capital, saying that “a
father, walking amid his children, has naught to fear.” On one occasion
when a galley full of soldiers and sailors was about to sink, and the
men he had ordered to their rescue were hesitating, he leaped into a
skiff, crying, “I prefer to be the companion rather than a spectator of
their death.” When Constantinople fell into the hands of the Turks in
1453, he welcomed learned refugees to his capital; his court was a
meeting-place for the savants of his time; and even when engaged in war,
his captains might be seen gathered near their king, listening to his
exposition of Livy instead of wasting their leisure at games of chance.
He was noted also for his gentle disposition and merry humour and seems
to have deserved his title of “the Magnanimous.”
Note 270 page 147. The battle of Cerignola (a town in Apulia near Cannæ,
the scene of one of Hannibal’s victories) was fought 28 April 1503,
between the Spanish army under the “Great Captain” and the French forces
of Louis XII, and resulted in the defeat of the latter with the loss of
more than half their men.
Note 271 page 147. UGO DI CARDONA, a brother of the Giovanni already
mentioned, was a Spanish soldier who fought under Cesare Borgia and the
“Great Captain,” and was killed by the hand of Francis I at the battle
of Pavia in 1525.
Note 272 page 147. This is a corruption of the name of St. Erasmus, a
Syrian bishop who suffered martyrdom about 304, and became a favourite
saint among the sailors on the Mediterranean. His name is given to
certain electrical phenomena often seen at sea and on land also.
Note 273 page 147. OTTAVIANO UBALDINI, (died 1498), was the son of a
famous condottiere, Bernardino Ubaldini, and Aura di Montefeltro, a
sister of Duke Federico. His father having died in 1437, he was bred at
the court of Urbino and became the trusted counsellor of his uncle
Federico, who left to him the guardianship of the young duke,
Guidobaldo. To personal valour and address in statecraft he united (if
we may trust the rhymed chronicle of Raphael’s father) a knowledge of
classic literature, and a taste for music and the other fine arts. He is
known to have been a zealous cultivator of astrology. By some writers
Duke Federico (the circumstances of whose birth were not free from
mystery) was believed to have been an Ubaldini, and this Ottaviano was
openly regarded as his brother.
Note 274 page 147. ANTONELLO DA FORLI was a soldier of fortune who died
before May 1488, and of whom little seems to be known apart from this
anecdote. It is found also in two other books, where the witty
Florentine is named as Cosimo de’ Medici.
Note 275 page 147. San Leo was a fortress perched on an almost
inaccessible crag eighteen miles north-west of Urbino. It is mentioned
by Dante (_Purgatorio_, iv, 25) and also by Machiavelli (Art of War, iv)
as a place of great natural strength. When in the spring of 1502 Cesare
Borgia disclosed his hostile designs against Duke Guidobaldo, the
latter, knowing that he could not hold out at Urbino, retired to San
Leo, but soon afterwards fled in the garb of a peasant, and the castle
was surrendered. In the same year, however, it was recaptured by
stratagem. In the spring of 1503 it was besieged by the adherents of
Borgia, and bravely defended for six months by Ottaviano Fregoso and the
castellan Lattanzio da Bergamo (referred to in the text), in the hope of
succour from Guidobaldo, who had taken refuge at Venice. Cian says that
the place at last fell and was not again recovered by Guidobaldo until
after the death of Alexander VI. On the other hand Dennistoun (ii, 13)
asserts that by a reinforcement of twenty-five men the castle was
enabled to hold out until Guidobaldo’s restoration; he assigns the
incident in the text to the first capture (1502), gives the name of the
castellan as Scarmiglione da Foglino, and affirms that the surrender was
treacherous.
[Illustration:
CESARE BORGIA
1478-1507
]
Reduced from Alinari’s photograph (no. 13438) of the portrait, in the
Correr Museum at Venice, formerly ascribed to Leonardo da Vinci, but
recently attributed by Berenson to Francesco Beccaruzzi.
Note 276 page 147. DUKE VALENTINO, i.e. Cesare Borgia, Duke of
Valentinois, (born 1478; died 1507), was an openly acknowledged son of
Cardinal Roderigo Borgia (afterwards Alexander VI) by Rosa Vanozza, who
was the mother also of Cesare’s sister Lucrezia. Created a cardinal on
his father’s accession, he procured the murder of his brother Giovanni
in 1497, resigned his cardinalate the same year, was given the French
duchy of Valentinois in 1498, and married Charlotte d’Albret, daughter
of the King of Navarre, in 1499. Having been created Duke of Romagna by
his father in 1501, he proceeded to reduce the various fiefs comprised
within his intended domain, including the duchy of Urbino. After the
death of Alexander VI, Cesare was held in captivity by Julius II and by
Ferdinand the Catholic, escaped to his father-in-law’s court in 1506,
and fell in battle the following year, the very day after the close of
the Courtier dialogues. Handsome, accomplished and subtle, he was a
patron of learning and an adept in the cruel and perfidious politics of
his day. Upon his public career is founded the famous _Principe_ of
Machiavelli, who says: “If all the duke’s achievements are considered,
it will be found that he built up a great superstructure for his future
power; nor do I know what precepts I could furnish to a prince better
than such as are to be derived from his example.”
Note 277 page 148. Literally: “It must be believed to have been in
despair.”
Note 278 page 148. PUBLIUS CORNELIUS SCIPIO NASICA (Scipio with the
pointed nose), was an eminent Roman jurist who was Consul in 191 B.C.,
and own cousin of Scipio Africanus the Elder.
Note 279 page 148. ALONSO CARILLO is said by Cian to have been one of
the many Spaniards who lived at Rome in the service of popes and
cardinals belonging to that nation. The Spanish annotator Fabié
identifies him as a son of Don Luis and Donna Costanza de Rivera.
Note 280 page 148. MY LADY BOADILLA. Cian’s identification of this lady
as Beatriz Fernandez de Bobadilla, Marchioness of Moya, is confirmed by
the fact that Boscan’s translation (1534) gives her name as the
Marchioness of Moya instead of ‘my lady Boadilla.’ She and her husband
are warmly mentioned in a codicil to Isabella the Catholic’s will, as
being among that queen’s most dear and faithful friends.
Note 281 page 149. In this passage, Antonio Ciccarelli’s expurgated
edition (1584) substitutes “a painter of antiquity” for Raphael,
“certain Roman senators” for the two cardinals, and Romulus and Remus
for St. Peter and St. Paul. The picture in question has been identified
as one painted by Raphael in 1513-14 for the church of San Silvestro.
Note 282 page 149. ‘Aught else ... upon thy shoulders,’ i.e., a head.
The Cato referred to was probably MARCUS PORCIUS CATO UTICENSIS, (born
95 B.C., died 46 B.C.), the Roman philosopher and patriot who espoused
the cause of Pompey, and committed suicide on hearing of Cæsar’s victory
at Thapsus.
Note 283 page 150. This queen must have been Isabella the Catholic; see
note 391.
Note 284 page 150. RAFAELLO DE’ PAZZI, (born 1471, died 1512), was a
native of Florence, but was bred away from his home, doubtless owing to
the proscription of his family for participation in the Pazzi conspiracy
against Lorenzo and Giuliano de’ Medici. Having fought for Cesare Borgia
and later for Julius II, he was captured by the French in 1511, and was
slain the following year in the battle of Ravenna.
Note 285 page 150. THE PRIOR OF MESSINA is now identified by Cian as a
Spanish soldier, Don Pedro de Cuña, who was killed at the battle of
Ravenna in 1512.
Note 286 page 151. Of PAOLO TOLOSA nothing more is known than is
contained in the text.
Note 287 page 151. Like purple in Roman times, rose was the aristocratic
colour at this period. Cosimo is reported by Machiavelli (_Storia
Fiorentina_, vii, 6) to have said that “two ells of rose-coloured cloth
make a man of quality.”
Note 288 page 151. GIANOTTO DE’ PAZZI is regarded by Cian as possibly
identical with a certain Florentine, Giovanni de’ Pazzi, who was born in
1476 and died in 1528.
Note 289 page 151. Of ANTONIO RIZZO nothing more is known than is
contained in the text.
Note 290 page 151. ‘The renunciation of a benefice,’ i.e. the notarial
deed or testament by which a priest resigned his benefice or prebend in
favour of someone else.
Note 291 page 151. ANTONIO TORELLO, (died 1536), was private chamberlain
to Julius II and Leo X, who conferred a canonry and several prebends
upon him in 1514. In the briefs he is designated as a priest of the
diocese of Foglino, and is given certain benefices there, which had
fallen vacant on the death of another priest. We thus infer that Torello
must have been familiar with the subject referred to in the text. He was
made a Roman citizen in 1530.
Note 292 page 151. These two hunchbacks have not been identified. “The
Wheel” (_la Ruota_ or _Rota della Giustizia_, or simply _la Rota_) was
the highest civil and criminal court of Rome prior to 1870. Its name may
have originated in the circular arrangement of the judges’ (auditors’)
seats (compare the _hemicyclium_ of Cicero’s time), or possibly in a
wheel-shaped porphyry figure set in the pavement of the hall where they
sat. The play is of course on the double meaning of the word _torto_,
crooked, wrong.
Note 293 page 151. LATINO GIOVENALE DE’ MANETTI, (born 1486; died 1553),
was a native of Rome, and a canon of St. Peter’s, but being of minor
rank he had a wife and children. He held various offices, including that
of Commissary General of Roman Antiquities, and was employed in several
papal embassies. A writer of Latin and Italian verse, he was a friend of
Castiglione, Bembo and Bibbiena, and is mentioned in the autobiography
of Cellini, who says that he “had a pretty big dash of the fool in
him,”—apparently because he presumed to improve one of the sculptor’s
designs for a crucifix.
Note 294 page 152. PERALTA is regarded by Cian as probably identical
with a certain Captain Luijse Galliego de Peralta, who bore a letter
(1521) from Castiglione at Rome to the Marquess Federico of Mantua, then
fighting against the French. In this letter Castiglione speaks of having
known Peralta for years as “a man of character and a valiant.” Cian
regards him as identical also with a certain Colonel Peralta, whose
death at the battle of Frosinone is mentioned (in a letter of 1526)
among those of other Spaniards.
MOLART is identified by Cian as the French soldier of fortune, “Molard,”
who commanded a battalion of Gascons at the battle of Ravenna (11 April
1512), and who fell there bravely fighting by the side of Gaston de
Foix.
ALDANA afterwards served under the Marquess of Mantua at Pavia in 1522,
having been summoned (as was Castiglione also) from Rome at the head of
his company.
Note 295 page 152. The duel in question is thus described by Branthôme
in his Discourse on Duels: “The Grand Master de Chaumont, the King’s
Lieutenant in the State of Milan, also allowed a duel to two Spaniards
who had asked it of him. The name of one was Signor Peralta, who had
formerly been in the King of France’s service, ... and the other
Spaniard was called Captain Aldana. Their combat was on horse, _à la
genette_ (jennet), with rapier and dagger and three darts to each man.
Peralta’s second was another Spaniard, and Aldana’s was the gentle
Captain Molart. It had snowed so much that their encounter took place in
the Piazza at Parma, from which the snow had been cleared, and there
being no other barriers than the snow, each of the two combatants did
his duty right well. And at last my lord de Chaumont, who had appointed
the ground and was umpire, caused them to retire with equal honour.”
Note 296 page 152. Cian inclines to regard this Master MARCANTONIO as
identical with a certain eccentric physician of the same name, who lived
at Urbino and was the author of a fantastic law book and a long comedy.
Of BOTTONE DA CESENA nothing more is known than is contained in the
text.
Note 297 page 152. ‘Three sticks,’ i.e., the gallows.
Note 298 page 152. Of the three persons bearing the name ANDREA COSCIA
and known to have lived at this time, it is uncertain which one is here
referred to.
Note 299 page 152. A MS. copy of THE COURTIER contains the following
passage: “Again a Venetian (forgive me, messer Pietro), coming to visit
my lady Maddalena, sister to my lady Duchess,—as soon as he was near he
offered her his hand, but without removing his cap. My lady Maddalena
drew back a step, and drew back her hand too, saying: ‘Gentle Sir, put
on your cap; cover your head.’ He still advanced and offered his hand;
whereupon she replied: ‘I will never do it, unless you cover.’ Thus the
poor man was so put to shame that he at last removed his cap.” Under
similar circumstances Madame Bernhardt is said to have reproved Edward
VII (then Prince of Wales) by feigning not to recognize him with his hat
on.
Note 300 page 152. MY LORD CARDINAL, i.e., Giovanni de’ Medici,
afterwards Leo X, (born 1475; died 1521). He was the second son of
Lorenzo de’ Medici and Clarice Orsini, and an elder brother of the
Magnifico of THE COURTIER. Made a cardinal at the age of thirteen, and
exiled from Florence with the rest of his family in 1494, he was present
at the election of Alexander VI, of whose character he is said to have
shown true appreciation at the time by remarking: “We are in the wolf’s
jaws; he will gulp us down, unless we make good our flight.” During the
reign of Julius II, he seems to have been subservient to that pontiff,
and in 1511 was a member of the court of six cardinals which acquitted
the young Duke of Urbino of the charge of murdering Cardinal Alidosi.
The pontificates of Alexander and Julius had exhausted Italy with wars,
and the Christian world, weary of their scandalous violence, hailed with
relief the accession of the cultivated and seemingly gentle young
prelate, Giovanni de’ Medici. Of his reign,—so brilliant in art and
letters, so disastrous to the Church,—it is enough to say that the key
is found in the famous phrase with which, on his elevation to the Chair
of St. Peter, he greeted his brother Giuliano: “Let us enjoy the Papacy,
since God hath given it us.” To him the immortality of the soul was an
open topic for debate, while he regarded sound Latinity and a ready
tongue as more important than true doctrine and pure living. Sincerely
zealous for the diffusion of liberal knowledge, he was extravagantly
munificent to artists, scholars and authors. Like all his family, after
the first Cosimo, he was a poor financier, and on his sudden death he
was found to have pawned the very jewels of his tiara. His reckless
expenditure led to the sale of indulgences, and thus in no small degree
to the progress of the Reformation.
[Illustration:
LUDOVICO SFORZA
DUKE OF MILAN
1451-1508
]
Enlarged from a part of Alinari’s photograph (no. 14351) of the marble
tomb sculptures, now in the Certosa di Pavia near Milan, by
Cristoforo Solari, known as _il Gobbo_, (died 1540).
Note 301 page 153. BIAGINO CRIVELLO was one of Duke Ludovico Sforza’s
captains, and is mentioned (July 1500) in a list of Sforza adherents who
had rebelled against Louis XII, and whose possessions were declared
forfeit. The list speaks of him as keeping himself at Mantua and in
Venetian territory, and as owning no attachable property in the
Milanese. In April of the same year an ineffectual demand had been made
upon the Marquess of Mantua for the surrender of Crivello and other
chiefs of the Sforza party.
Note 302 page 153. THE DUKE, i.e., Ludovico Sforza, “Il Moro,” (born
1451; died 1508), was the fourth son of the Francesco Sforza whom Duke
Federico of Urbino had helped to become Duke of Milan (and whose father,
a peasant condottiere, Muzio Attendolo, became known as Sforza by reason
of great personal strength),—and of Bianca Maria, a daughter of the last
Visconti duke of Milan. Early noted for his physical and mental
qualities, Ludovico read and wrote Latin fluently, had a tenacious
memory, and was a ready speaker. He was tall and of strongly marked
features. Unlike his horrible brother Galeazzo Maria, he shunned
bloodshed. Banished from Milan after his brother’s assassination in
1476, he returned in triumph in 1479, and assumed the guardianship of
his nephew Giangaleazzo, for whom he chose as bride his sister’s child,
Isabella (see note 396), daughter of Alfonso II of Naples. Having first
sought the hand of Isabella d’Este (see note 397),—who was already
betrothed to the Marquess of Mantua,—in 1491 he married her younger
sister Beatrice (see note 398), whose influence is by some said to have
led him to aggravate the humiliation of his young nephew and niece, the
rightful duke and duchess. Being threatened by the latter’s father, the
King of Naples, Ludovico invited Charles VIII to enter Italy (1494) and
assert the Angevine claim to Naples. His unhappy nephew died the same
year, not without suspicion of having been poisoned by the uncle’s
order, who thereupon assumed the title as well as the despotic power of
duke. Becoming alarmed at the rapid success of the French in Italy, he
joined the league formed against them, and was afterwards punished for
his treachery by being expelled from Milan by Louis XII and carried to
France. It is said that at the time of his capture, the only favour he
asked was to be allowed the use of a volume of Dante. He died a prisoner
in the Castle of Loches, where, after a vain effort to escape, he was
confined in an underground dungeon. At the height of his prosperity his
revenues exceeded those of any Italian state except Venice. Policy and
also his natural taste for intellectual pleasures led him to copy the
Medici in their patronage of art and letters. He aspired to make his
capital a modern Athens, and sought to attract men of fame and talent
from far and wide. Both Leonardo da Vinci and the architect Bramante
were in his pay.
Note 303 page 153. Cervia is a little town on the Adriatic (between
Ravenna and Rimini). A Dominican, Tommaso Cattanei, was bishop of the
diocese from 1486 to 1509. The pope referred to in the text was Julius
II.
Note 304 page 155. ‘Montefiore Inn’ was a proverbial expression for a
bad hostelry. The rustic inns of Italy at this period were usually
wretched and for the most part kept by Germans.
Note 305 page 156. One ANDREA CASTILLO was secretary to Leo X, and died
in 1545.
Note 306 page 156. Cian identifies this CARDINAL BORGIA as the Francesco
(born 1441; died 1511) who was raised to the purple by Alexander VI, and
s’ known as a schismatic.
Note 307 page 156. The modern form of _ballatore_ is _ballerino_.
Although the distinction is not free from doubt, there seems to be
reason for believing that _danzare_ was the term applied to the more
stately forms of dance, while _ballare_ was reserved for more animated
movements. See note 147.
Note 308 page 157. The Bergamasque was and still is regarded as the
rudest and most rustic of the Italian dialects.
Note 309 page 157. Except as applied to a small Tuscan stream or torrent
(flowing near Acquapendente and Orvieto, and finally tributary to the
Tiber), the name Paglia does not occur in modern Italian geography. In
his autobiography, Cellini mentions crossing the little stream on his
first journey from Siena to Rome. Later in the 16th century, Montaigne
records (in his diary of a trip into Italy) having spent the night at
“_La Paille_” (Italian, _Paglia_), and describes it as “a small village
of five or six houses at the foot of several barren and ill-favoured
mountains.”
Note 310 page 157. They seem to have been playing _primero_ (the modern
_primiera_), a game much in vogue at this time.
Note 311 page 158. Loreto is a small hill town near Ancona, and is
celebrated for its pilgrimage shrine of the Sacred House (_Santa Casa_),
which was reputed to have been the veritable dwelling of the Virgin,
miraculously transported by angels from Nazareth, and set down in Italy
in 1294. In 1511 and again in 1524 Castiglione wrote to his mother that
he was preparing to go to Our Lady of Loreto in fulfilment of a vow. The
name was said to be derived from that of the widow upon whose land the
house was deposited by the angels.
Note 312 page 158. Acquapendente is the name of a small town sixty-seven
miles north-west of Rome.
Note 313 page 159. MONSIGNOR OF SAN PIETRO AD VINCULA was the title of
Cardinal Galeatto della Rovere; see note 189.
Note 314 page 159. MONSIGNOR OF ARAGON was the title of Cardinal
Ludovico of Aragon, (born 1474), a natural son of Ferdinand I of Naples,
and a half-brother of Alfonso II (see note 31) and Federico III of
Naples (see note 401). He was not elevated to the purple until 1519;
Castiglione’s mention of him as a cardinal in dialogues supposed to take
place twelve years earlier, doubtless arose from a natural confusion
between the time when and the time of which they were written.
Note 315 page 159. ‘The _Banchi_’ (Banks) was the name of a street in
Rome well known in the 15th and 16th centuries. Containing the offices
of the papal Curia and magistrates, it became a preferred neighbourhood,
and was enriched with fine buildings, among which was the counting-house
of Julius II’s finance minister, Agostino Chigi, the greatest banker of
his day.
Note 316 page 159. ‘The Chancery’ (_Cancelleria_) was a palace designed
about 1500 by Bramante for Cardinal Riario, but at this time used for
public offices and as the residence of Cardinal Galeotto della Rovere,
who had enlarged and embellished the building. It was not far from the
Banks.
Note 317 page 159. San Celso was the name of a street and church near
the Banks. The saint (Celsus) whose memory is thus perpetuated was born
at what is now Cimiez, near Nice, suffered martyrdom at Rome under Nero,
and was finally put to death (together with his master, St. Nazarius) at
Milan in the year 69.
Note 318 page 160. CESARE BECCADELLO is regarded by Cian as possibly
identical with a certain Bolognese, who was the son of Domenico Maria
Beccadello, married Landomia Fasanini, and was living at the papal court
as late as 1559. The Spanish annotator Fabié suggests that he was the
father (1502) of the author Ludovico Beccadello, who was a follower of
Bembo and wrote biographies of Petrarch and others.
Note 319 page 161. These are characters occurring in the third, sixth
and ninth tales of the Eighth Day, and in the fifth tale of the Ninth
Day.
Note 320 page 161. This knavish student seems to be identical with a
certain CAIO CALORIA PONZIO, who was born at Messina. Of his life little
more is known than that he studied law at Padua between 1479 and 1488,
and, after residing two years at Venice, returned to Sicily. For an
account of a short poem by him in praise of Venice, and of his dialect
comedy dedicated to the Marquess of Mantua, see Vittorio Rossi’s _Caio
Caloria Ponzio, e la poesia volgare letteraria di Sicilia nel Secolo
XV_, reprinted (Palermo, 1893) from the _Archivio Storico Siciliano_, N.
S., A., xviii.
Note 321 page 161. The only belfry at Padua answering to this
description is said to be that of San Giacomo.
Note 322 page 162. GONNELLA. This name was borne by two famous jesters
employed by the d’Este family. The one here referred to was probably the
later of the two, who lived at the courts of Dukes Niccolò III and
Borso, was the son of a Florentine glover Bernardo Gonnella, and married
one Checca Lapi. The next buffoon referred to was probably LUDOVICO
MELIOLO, who acted as steward to the court of Mantua about 1500, and was
a brother of the goldsmith and sculptor Bartolommeo Meliolo (1448-1514).
He was called “the father of jests.”
Note 323 page 163. This is an instance of the use of the word _calunnia_
(rendered ‘imputation’) in its primitive sense of malicious accusation
without reference to truth or falsity.
Note 324 page 164. These characters occur in the sixth tale of the Third
Day, and in the seventh and eighth tales of the Seventh Day of
Boccaccio’s “Decameron.”
Note 325 page 164. The queen here mentioned is of course Isabella the
Catholic; see note 391.
Note 326 page 164. Fabié says that this COUNTESS OF CASTAGNETA was
Brazaida de Almada, daughter of a Portuguese cavalier Juan Baez de
Almada and Violante de Castro (of the same nation). She was a
lady-in-waiting to Queen Isabella, and her husband Don Garci Fernandez
Manrique (third Count of Castagneta and first Marquess of Aguilar) took
part in the conquest of Granada.
Note 327 page 167. If unconvinced by the “Decameron,” readers of the
_Corbaccio_ will surely be persuaded of the justice of this opinion.
Note 328 page 167. According to one form of the legend of Orpheus, his
grief at the final loss of his wife Eurydice, when his lyre had all but
enabled him to recover her from Hades, led him to treat contemptuously
the Thracian women, who avenged the insult by tearing him in pieces
under the excitement of their Bacchanalian orgies.
Note 329 page 167. ‘Braccesque leave’ (_una licentia bracciesca_ in the
Aldine folio of 1528, and _una licentia Bracciesca_ in the more
correctly printed Aldine folio of 1545) is a phrase derived from the
name of Braccio Fortebracci, a captain who was famous for his violence
to friend and foe, and whose followers were called Bracceschi. To give a
man Braccesque leave meant to dismiss him with blows.
Note 330 page 169. Although in this and a few other passages,
Castiglione uses _virtù_ in the sense of our “virtue,” he more often
gives it its etymological meaning of “manliness,” which the present
translator has generally rendered by “worth.” In considering a word like
this, we must take into account the character of him who uses it. To
Machiavelli, as no doubt to most of his contemporaries in Italy, _virtù_
meant simply that combination of strength, courage, tenacity and cunning
that enables a man to achieve his ends,—whether good or bad.
NOTES TO THE THIRD BOOK OF THE COURTIER
Note 331 page 171. Achaia, here used as synonymous with Greece, was the
name given to that country when conquered by the Romans and made a
province. Olympia was not in Achaia proper, but in the adjoining
district of Elis, some forty miles south of the modern Patras. The site
has been thoroughly excavated by German archæologists, the most noted
discovery being that of the “Hermes” of Praxiteles and the “Victory” of
Pæonius.
Note 332 page 172. That is to say, nude. According to the familiar Greek
myth, Eris (goddess of discord), to avenge her exclusion from the
nuptials of Peleus and Thetis, threw among the wedding guests a golden
apple inscribed “To the Fairest.” A dispute arising between Aphrodite,
Hera and Athena concerning the apple, Zeus appointed the shepherd Paris
to decide their claims. The prize having been awarded to Aphrodite, she
aided Paris to carry off the beautiful Helen of Sparta, and thus gave
rise to the Trojan War.
Note 333 page 173. The Order of St. Michael was instituted in August
1469, by Louis XI of France, and was highly esteemed down to
Castiglione’s time, but later suffered in estimation, owing to the
freedom with which membership was bestowed. Francis I wore the insignia
of the order at the battle of Pavia, 1525.
Note 334 page 173. The Order of the Garter was instituted by Edward III
of England in 1344. He assigned to its use the chapel (at Windsor) of
St. George, who was its patron saint. Duke Guidobaldo of Urbino having,
like his father, been made a knight of the order, Castiglione went to
England in 1506 to receive the insignia on the duke’s behalf.
Note 335 page 173. The Order of the Golden Fleece was instituted by Duke
Philip the Good of Burgundy (paternal grandfather of Charles V’s
paternal grandmother) in 1429 in honour of his third marriage, to
Elizabeth of Portugal. Its badge, a golden ram, is shown in our
portraits of Charles V and his grandfather Maximilian I.
Note 336 page 173. The king of Persia at this time was Ismail Sufi I,
(born 1480; died 1524). He was descended from a family of noted piety,
whose peculiar beliefs became the origin of the national Persian faith.
Having been proclaimed shah in 1499, after nearly a century of
disorderly government by the successors of Timur the Tartar, he spent
most of his reign in enlarging and assuring his dominions, and founded
the dynasty that was to rule Persia until 1736. He waged an unsuccessful
war with Selim I of Turkey, the son and successor of Bajazet II, and
died while on a pilgrimage to his own father’s tomb. His subjects
revered him as a saint.
Note 337 page 174. The ‘Lady whom I know’ is of course the Duchess.
Note 338 page 175. PYGMALION will be remembered as the legendary
sculptor-king of Cyprus, who fell in love with an ivory statue that he
had made of a beautiful girl, and prayed to Aphrodite to breathe life
into it. His prayer being granted, he married the girl, who was called
Galatea.
Note 339 page 181. The opinions here ascribed to Plato, are found in the
Fifth Book of his “Republic,” but seem to have undergone serious change
when he wrote his “Laws.”
Note 340 page 182. The comparative merits of man and woman were much
discussed in Greek antiquity and during the Renaissance, and form the
subject of a copious literature in which Castiglione’s contribution
occupies no unimportant place.
Note 341 page 184. The reference here is to a fragment of the so-called
Orphic Hymns, beginning: “Jove the End, Jove the Beginning, Jove the
Middle, all things are of Jove: Jove Male, Immortal Virgin Jove.” In
this and other respects the theogony to which the name of Orpheus is
attached, is closely related to the most ancient religious systems of
India.
Note 342 page 185. The author probably refers to Aristotle’s Tenth
Problem.
Note 343 page 188. The reference here is doubtless to Jerome’s 54th
Epistle (on Widowhood), and to his first tract against Jovinianus, both
written about 394 A.D. He was born in what is now the Hungarian town of
Stridon about 340, and died in a monastery at Bethlehem 420 A.D. Perhaps
his best remembered work is the Vulgate or Latin translation of the
Bible.
Note 344 page 189. “If not chastely, then discreetly.”
Note 345 page 190. OCTAVIA, (born 70; died 11 B.C.), was a great-niece
of Julius Cæsar, and became the second wife of the triumvir Mark Antony
for the purpose (ultimately vain) of cementing the alliance between him
and her brother Augustus. Her beauty, accomplishments and virtues proved
unavailing against the wiles of Cleopatra, who induced Antony to divorce
her. After Antony’s death, she remained true to the interests of his
children, including those by his first wife and by Cleopatra. Through
the two daughters that she bore to Antony, she became the grandmother of
the Emperor Claudius, and great-grandmother of his predecessor Caligula
and of his successor Nero.
Note 346 page 190. PORCIA’S first husband was Marcus Bibulus, who was
Consul with Cæsar in 59 B.C. She inherited her father’s republican
principles, courage and firm will, and was her second husband Brutus’s
confidante in the conspiracy against Cæsar. On his death at Philippi in
42 B.C., she put an end to her life.
Note 347 page 190. CAIA CÆCILIA TANAQUIL appears in Roman legend as the
second wife of King Tarquinius Priscus, endowed with prophetic powers,
closely connected with the worship of the hearth-deity, expert in
healing, and a model of domestic virtues. The traditional date of her
husband’s reign is 616-578 B.C.
Note 348 page 190. CORNELIA, the mother of the Gracchi (born about 189
B.C.; died about 110 B.C.), wrote letters that had survived in Cicero’s
day and were prized for their style. Even in her own lifetime the Romans
erected a statue in honour of her virtues. Left a widow with twelve
young children, she devoted herself wholly to their training, and
rejected all offers of marriage, including that of Ptolemy.
Note 349 page 191. Plutarch (from whose history the narrative in the
text is a paraphrase) describes ALEXANDRA as being actuated in her
regency solely by ambitious motives. Her husband, Alexander Jannæus, was
the son of Johannes Hyrcanus and brother of Aristobulus I, whom he
succeeded as second King of the Jews after the Babylonish Captivity. His
reign (104-78 B.C.) was marked by atrocities.
Note 350 page 191. The reference here is to MITHRIDATES VI, Eupator,
King (120-63 B.C.) of Pontus on the southern shore of the Black Sea. In
the Life of Lucullus, Plutarch relates that having been utterly defeated
by the Romans in 72 B.C., Mithridates gave order to have his wives
Bernice and Monima put to death together with his sisters Statira and
Roxana, in order to prevent them from falling into the hands of the
enemy,—while he himself took refuge with his son-in-law. Statira is
described by Plutarch as grateful to her brother for not forgetting her
amid his own anxieties, and for providing her the means of an honourable
death.
Note 351 page 191. This HASDRUBAL was the general of the Carthaginians
in their last struggle with Rome. When Scipio captured Carthage in 146
B.C., Hasdrubal surrendered, while it is said that his wife, after
upbraiding him for his weakness, flung herself and her children into the
flames of the burning temple in which they had sought shelter.
Note 352 page 191. In fact, HARMONIA was Hiero’s granddaughter, and the
wife of a Syracusan named Themistus, who (after the death of Hiero in
215 B.C.) was chosen one of the leaders of the commonwealth and
afterwards perished in a fresh revolution. Death was then decreed
against all surviving members of Hiero’s family, and Harmonia was slain
together with her aunts, Demarata and Heraclea.
Note 353 page 192. The reference is of course to the familiar story of
the obstinate dame who persisted in declaring that a certain rent had
been made with scissors, and whose husband vainly tried to change her
mind by plunging her in a pond. Each time she came to the surface, she
cried “Scissors,” until, unable to speak from strangulation, she
stretched forth her hand and made the sign of the instrument with two
fingers. In a coarser form, the story was current in Italy even before
Castiglione’s time.
Note 354 page 192. The conspiracy in question was discovered in 65 A.D.
Tacitus relates that EPICHARIS strangled herself with her girdle while
on the way to be tortured a second time.
Note 355 page 192. LEÆNA was an Athenian _hetaira_ beloved by
Aristogeiton. When he and Harmodius had slain the tyrant Hipparchus in
514 B.C., she was supposed to be privy to their plan, and died under
torture. The statue in question is mentioned by Pausanias and said by
Plutarch (in his essay on Garrulity) to have been placed “upon the gates
of the Acropolis.” Recent archæologists identify its site as being on
the level of the Acropolis, near the southern inner corner of the
Propylæa.
Note 356 page 192. Massilia became the modern Marseilles.
Note 357 page 192. This story is taken from the “Memorable Doings and
Sayings” of Valerius Maximus (_flor._ 25 A.D.), in which Castiglione
mistranslates the Latin word _publicè_ (at the public charge) as
_publicamente_ (publicly).
Note 358 page 192. Of several persons of this name, the one here
referred to was probably the Roman Consul (14 A.D.),—a patron of
literature and a friend of Ovid. Had the Magnifico been allowed to
finish his sentence, he would (following the narrative of Valerius
Maximus) have doubtless added the name of a town in Asia Minor, Julida.
Note 359 page 195. This story (which was used by Tennyson for his play
of “The Cup”) is found in Plutarch’s tract “Concerning Women’s Virtue,”
where the scene is placed in Galatia, in Asia Minor.
Note 360 page 197. The number of the Sibyls is usually reckoned as ten:
Persian (or Babylonian), Libyan, Phrygian, Delphian, Cimmerian,
Erythræan, Samian, Trojan, Tiburtine, and Cumæan,—of which the last was
the most famous.
Note 361 page 197. ASPASIA, (_flor._ 440 B.C.), was born at Miletus in
Asia Minor, but in her youth removed to Athens, where she was celebrated
for her talents and beauty, and became the mistress of Pericles, one of
whose orations she is said by Plato to have composed. Her house was the
centre of intellectual society, and was even frequented by Athenian
matrons and their husbands.
Note 362 page 197. DIOTIMA was a probably fictitious priestess of
Mantinea in the Peloponnesus, reputed to have been the instructress of
Socrates. Her supposed opinions as to the origin, nature and objects of
life, form the subject of Plato’s “Symposium.”
Note 363 page 197. NICOSTRATE or Carmenta was a prophetic and healing
divinity, supposed to be of Greek origin. Having tried to persuade her
son Evander to kill his father Hermes, she fled with the boy to Italy,
where she was said to have given the Roman form to the fifteen
characters of the Greek alphabet that Evander introduced into Latium.
Note 364 page 197. This ‘preceptress ... to Pindar’ was MYRTIS, a lyric
poetess of the 6th century B.C. She is mentioned in a fragment by
Corinna as having competed with Pindar. Statues were erected to her in
various parts of Greece, and she was counted among the nine lyric muses.
Note 365 page 197. Of PINDAR’S life little more is known than that he
resided chiefly at Thebes, and that the dates of his birth and death
were about 522 and 443 B.C. respectively. Practically all his extant
poems are odes in commemoration of victories in the public games.
Note 366 page 197. The Greek poetess CORINNA (5th century B.C.) was a
native of Tanagra in Bœotia. She is said to have won prizes five times
in competition with Pindar. Only a few fragments of her verse remain.
Note 367 page 197. SAPPHO flourished about 600 B.C., and seems to have
been born and to have lived chiefly at Mitylene. She enjoyed unique
renown among the ancients: on hearing one of her poems, Solon prayed
that he might not see death before he had learned it; Plato called her
the Tenth Muse; and Aristotle placed her on a par with Homer. For a
recently discovered and interesting fragment of her verse, see the Egypt
Exploration Fund’s “Oxyrhynchus Papyri,” Part I, p. 11.
Note 368 page 198. Castiglione here follows Plutarch. Pliny, on the
other hand, affirms that Roman women were obliged to kiss their male
relatives, in order that it might be known whether they had transgressed
the law forbidding them to drink wine.
Note 369 page 199. This paragraph is taken almost literally from Livy,
excepting the incident of the babies borne in arms, which Castiglione
seems to have invented.
Note 370 page 199. TITUS TATIUS was the legendary king of the Sabines.
His forces were so strong that Romulus was driven back to the Saturnian
Hill, which had previously been fortified and which became the site of
the Capitol. The familiar story is to the effect that Tarpeia (daughter
to the captain of the fortress), being dazzled by the Sabines’ golden
bracelets, promised to betray the hill to them if they would give her
the ornaments on their left arms. Accordingly she admitted the enemy at
night, but when she claimed her reward, they threw down upon her the
shields that they wore on the left arm, and thus crushed her to death.
Her infamy is preserved in the name of the neighbouring Tarpeian Rock,
from which traitors were flung down.
Note 371 page 199. There is said to be no historical mention of any
Roman temple to _Venus Armata_. Castiglione may have had in mind a
passage in the “Christian Cicero” (Lactantius Firmianus, who wrote about
300 A.D.), recording the dedication by the Spartans of a temple and
statue to the Armed Venus in memory of their women’s brave repulse of a
sudden attack by the Messenians during the absence of the Spartan army.
Note 372 page 199. _Calva_ (bald) was one of the Roman Venus’s most
ancient epithets, under which she had two temples near the Capitol. Of
the several explanations of this appellation, Castiglione seems to refer
to the one which interprets it as the memorial of the Roman women’s
heroism in cutting off their hair to make bow-strings for the men during
a siege by the Gauls.
Note 373 page 200. In his life of Camillus (died 365 B.C.), Plutarch
gives a legendary account of the origin of the Handmaidens’ Festival. At
a time when the Romans were ill prepared for war, the Latins sent to
demand of them a number of free-born maidens in marriage. This was
suspected as a trick to obtain hostages, but no method of foiling it was
devised until Tutula, a slave girl, advised the magistrates to send her
to the Latin camp along with some of the most beautiful handmaidens in
rich attire. This was done, and at night, when her companions had stolen
away the enemies’ weapons, Tutula displayed a signal torch agreed on
with the Romans, who at once sallied forth, easily captured the Latin
camp, and put most of the enemy to the sword.
Note 374 page 200. The Romans are said to have wearied of Cicero’s
self-praise for his suppression of the Cataline conspiracy (63 B.C.).
The woman in question was a Roman patrician, Fulvia by name, who was the
mistress of one of the conspirators and divulged the plot to Cicero.
Note 375 page 200. This DEMETRIUS (II) was grandson to the Demetrius I
already mentioned (see note 136), and ruled over Macedonia from about
239 to about 229 B.C. His son, PHILIP V (237-179 B.C.), joined Hannibal
in a war against Rome, which finally ended in the downfall of the
Macedonian monarchy and the captivity of his son and successor Perseus
(167 B.C.). The incident mentioned in the text is narrated by Plutarch
in his work on “Women’s Virtue,” as also is the instance next cited by
Castiglione, who however reverses the order of events.
[Illustration:
ANNE OF BRITTANY
QUEEN OF FRANCE
1476-1514
]
Enlarged from a negative, specially made by Alinari through the courtesy
of Professor I. B. Supino, of a medal, in the National Museum at
Florence, by Jean Perreal (1460?-1528?). See note 387.
Note 376 page 200. Erythræ was an important city on the west coast of
Asia Minor opposite Chios. The nearest approach to ‘Leuconia’ in ancient
geography is the distant town Leuconum in what is now Slavonia, between
the Danube and the Save.
Note 377 page 201. Plutarch’s version of this story adds that in honour
of the Persian women’s bravery on this occasion, Cyrus (559-529 B.C.)
decreed that whenever the king returned from a long journey, each woman
should receive a ring of gold.
Note 378 page 201. One of Plutarch’s minor works is entitled “Apothegms
and Famous Sayings of Spartan Women,” and Castiglione’s contemporary
Marcantonio Casanova wrote two Latin distiches on “The Spartan Mother
Slaying Her Son.”
Note 379 page 201. Saguntum, the modern Murviedro, was a city of Greek
origin on the eastern coast of Spain. After a desperate siege of nearly
eight months, it was captured by Hannibal in 219 B.C.
Note 380 page 201. The reference here is to the victory, at Vercelli
near Milan, by which the Roman general CAIUS MARIUS repelled the advance
of the Cimbri into Italy, 101 B.C. The sacred fire (supposed to have
been brought from Troy by Æneas as the symbol of Vesta, the hearth
deity) was kept alive at Rome by six virgins.
Note 381 page 202. AMALASONTHA, (498-535 A.D.), was the daughter of
Theodoric the Great, and regent of the East Gothic kingdom from his
death in 526 until her own. After a prosperous reign she is said to have
been strangled by her cousin and second husband Theodatus, at the
instigation of the Empress Theodora, the wife of Justinian.
Note 382 page 202. THEODOLINDA, daughter of Duke Garibald of Bavaria,
married (589 A.D.) Autharis, King of the Lombards, and on his death in
the following year, she married Duke Agilulph of Turin, who was
proclaimed king in 591. She died in 625, after exercising the regency in
the name of her son. Her virtue, wisdom and beauty were extolled; she
was active in her labours on behalf of Christianity; and she carried on
a correspondence with St. Gregory, who was pope from 590 to 604.
Note 383 page 202. The THEODORA here referred to is doubtless the wife,
not of Justinian, but of Theophilus, Emperor of Constantinople 829-842.
She died in 867, and was canonized by the Greek Church.
Note 384 page 202. COUNTESS MATILDA, (1046-1115), one of the most famous
heroines of the Middle Ages, was the daughter of Duke Boniface of
Tuscany and Beatrice of Lorraine. She ruled over Tuscany and a large
part of northern Italy, espoused the papal cause against the Emperor,
and exercised an important influence upon the politics of her time. She
was noted also for her religious zeal, energy, and austere yet gentle
and cultivated life. Count Ludovico’s supposed descent from her paternal
uncle Conrad is now regarded as doubtful.
Note 385 page 202. Among the eminent women here referred to, we may
note: Duke Guidobaldo’s grandfather’s wife, Caterina Colonna, (died
1438), who was a great-aunt of Vittoria Colonna, and was praised as
“noble, beautiful, discreet, charming, gentle and generous”; his
great-aunt Battista di Montefeltro, (died 1450), who, having been
deserted by her worthless Malatesta husband, wrote moral essays and
poetry, and was celebrated for her piety and mental gifts, as well as
for her learning and literary accomplishments; his aunt, Brigida Sueva
di Montefeltro, (born 1428), who, after enduring for twelve years the
brutalities of her Sforza husband, became an abbess and ultimately
received the honour of beatification,—her remains being revered as a
sacred relic; another aunt of his, Violante di Montefeltro, (born 1430),
who was famous for her talents and beauty; his maternal grandmother,
Costanza da Varano, (born 1428), was a granddaughter of the Battista
above mentioned, inherited much of that lady’s taste for learning,
became the associate of scholars and philosophers, wrote Latin orations,
epistles and poems, and (by her marriage to a brother of the first
Sforza duke of Milan) became the mother of Duke Guidobaldo’s own mother,
Battista Sforza, (born 1446), who rivalled her ancestresses’
attainments, administered her husband’s government judiciously during
his frequent absences, and was regarded as beautiful, although tiny in
person.
Note 386 page 202. Perhaps the most famous woman of the Gonzaga family
was “my lady Duchess’s” great-aunt, Cecilia Gonzaga, (born 1425), who
shared with her four brothers the tuition of the celebrated Vittorino da
Feltre, wrote Greek with remarkable purity at the age of ten, became a
nun at nineteen, devoted her life to religious and literary exercises,
and was regarded as one of the most learned women of her time. Her niece
(?), Barbara Gonzaga, (born about 1455), was educated with especial
care, became Duchess of Würtemberg, induced her husband to found the
University of Tübingen, and ruled the duchy as regent after his death.
Of the Este family, two aunts (Ginevra, born 1419, and Bianca Maria,
born 1440) of Isabella and Beatrice d’Este (see notes 397 and 398), were
famous for their knowledge of Latin and Greek, in which languages the
younger wrote both prose and verse, besides being an accomplished
musician, dancer and needlewoman.
Of the Pio family, Castiglione doubtless had in mind the celebrated Alda
Pia da Carpi, who was a sister of Aldus’s pupil and patron Alberto Pio,
aunt of Count Ludovico Pio of THE COURTIER (see note 46), and mother of
the still more celebrated poetess Veronica Gambara, (born 1485).
[Illustration:
MARGARITA OF AUSTRIA
1480-1530
]
Head enlarged from Braun’s photograph (no. 13.796) of an anonymous
portrait group, in the Palace at Versailles, representing the
Emperor Maximilian I and his family.
Note 387 page 202. ANNE DE BRETAGNE, (born 1476; died 1514), was the
daughter and heiress of Duke Francis II of Brittany, which became
permanently united to the crown of France through her marriages to
Charles VIII (1492) and Louis XII (1499). Castiglione’s praise of her
seems to have been in the main justified. Although sometimes vindictive,
she was generous, virtuous beyond the standard of her time, and carried
cultivation to the verge of pedantry. She surrounded herself with
artists, historians, minstrels and poets, and formed a collection of
MSS. and other precious objects, largely the spoils of her husbands’
Italian campaigns. Branthôme called her “the worthiest and most
honourable queen that has been since Queen Blanche, mother of the king
St. Louis, and so wise and virtuous.”
Note 388 page 202. CHARLES VIII, (born 1470; died 1498), was the son of
Louis XI and Charlotte of Savoy. Having succeeded his father in 1483,
and assumed royal power in 1491, he married Anne of Brittany and soon
set about enforcing his pretensions to the crown of Naples, transmitted
to him through his father and cousin from René of Provence, to whom the
last Angevine ruler had devised the kingdom in 1435. As we have seen,
the immediate cause of the invasion of Italy (1494) was a request from
Duke Ludovico Sforza of Milan and Pope Alexander VI. Although the
expedition was undertaken without adequate preparation and conducted
with incredible foolhardiness,—continuous good fortune together with the
mutual jealousies of Italian princes and the decadence of Italian
military power enabled Charles to enter Milan, Florence and Rome without
hindrance, to seize Naples almost unopposed, and (when threatened by a
powerful league formed against him) to retire northwards, to defeat the
Italians at Fornovo, and finally to reach France in safety, October
1495. His garrisons were driven from Naples in the following year, but
his foray had the immediate result of expelling the Medici from
Florence, and the far more important consequence of revealing to the
rest of Europe the wealth and helplessness of Italy,—thus paving the way
for the subsequent invasions with which the peninsula was scourged
during the 16th Century. The remainder of Charles’s life was given up to
inglorious ease and pleasure. A son of the painter Mantegna thus
describes him: “A very ill-favoured face, with great goggle eyes, an
aquiline nose offensively large, and a head disfigured by a few sparse
hairs;” while Duke Ludovico Sforza said of him: “The man is young, and
his conduct meagre, nor has he any form or method of council.” His own
ambassador, Commines, wrote: “He was little in stature and of small
sense, very timid in speech, owing to the way in which he had been
treated as a child, and as feeble in mind as he was in body, but the
kindest and gentlest creature alive.”
Note 389 page 202. MARGARITA OF AUSTRIA, (born 1480; died 1530), was the
daughter of the Emperor Maximilian I and Mary of Burgundy, and a native
of Brussels. Having been betrothed to the Dauphin Charles (VIII) and
then rejected by that prince in favour of Anne of Brittany, she married
(1497) the Infant Juan of Castile, but soon lost both husband and child.
In 1501 she married Duke Filiberto of Savoy, and after four years of
happiness again became a widow. In 1507 she was entrusted by her father
with the government of the Low Countries and the care of her nephew
Charles (see note 462). She did much to further the progress of
agriculture and commerce in her dominions, and besides showing a lofty
spirit and no little political sagacity, she was a patroness of art and
letters, and composed a great number of poems in French, most of which
are said to be lost. Her correspondence with her father has been
published.
Note 390 page 202. MAXIMILIAN I, Emperor of Germany, (born 1459; died
1519), was the son of the Emperor Frederick III of Hapsburg and Eleanora
of Portugal. In 1477 he married Charles the Bold’s daughter and heiress,
Mary of Burgundy, who bore him five children and died in 1482. On the
death of his father in 1493, he was elected Emperor, and soon afterwards
married Bianca Maria, niece of Duke Ludovico Sforza of Milan. He was a
member of the league that forced Charles VIII to retire from Italy
(1495), of the League of Cambray against Venice (1508), and of the Holy
League (1511) for the expulsion of Louis XII from Italy. Although
deriving little profit or honour from these and other foreign
enterprises, he contrived by prudent marriages to add Bohemia and
Hungary to his empire and to make Spain a possession of his family. He
also effected many reforms in his government, and even founded several
important institutions, such as a postal service and a permanent
militia. From his youth he showed a taste for study, became a patron of
scholars, poets and artists, and enriched the Universities of Vienna and
Ingolstadt. Besides being an accomplished if not very successful
soldier, he was the author of works on gardening, hunting and
agriculture, as well as on military science.
Note 391 page 202. ISABELLA THE CATHOLIC, (born 1451; died 1504), was
the daughter and heiress of Juan II of Castile. Having been trained in
retirement to habits of religious devotion, she married (1469) Ferdinand
of Aragon, with whom she succeeded jointly to her father’s crown in
1474, but was able to gain complete possession of her dominions only in
1479, the same year in which her husband succeeded his father as King of
Aragon. Under her rule the Inquisition was established in Castile
(1480), but she recoiled before its horrors and was reconciled to its
continuance only by the direct assurance of Pope Sixtus IV. In 1481
began the long war, which (largely owing to her energy and perseverance)
resulted in the expulsion of the Moors from Spain, and in which she is
said to have organized the earliest military hospitals. The story of her
noble patronage of Columbus is familiar. Her later years were clouded by
the loss of two of her three children, including her only son, and by
the unhappy conjugal life and mental disorder of her daughter, Juana,
the mother of Charles V. Castiglione’s praise of Isabella’s lofty
qualities is not a little justified by the facts of her life. In
personal appearance, she is said to have been agreeable rather than
handsome; her features were regular, her green eyes vivacious, her
complexion olive, her hair reddish blond, and her stature above the
medium.
[Illustration:
BEATRICE OF ARAGON
QUEEN OF HUNGARY
1457-1508
]
From a negative, specially made by the brothers Moreau with the kind
permission of M. Gustave Dreyfus, of an anonymous bust in his
collection at Paris.
Note 392 page 202. FERDINAND THE CATHOLIC, (born 1452; died 1516), was
the son of Juan II of Navarre and Aragon, and is justly regarded as the
founder of the Spanish monarchy. The means employed by him in building
up his power were perfidy towards other rulers and ruthless oppression
of his own people. Besides the other events of his reign, noted above,
mention should be made of his cruel expulsion of the Jews from Spain in
1492. These and his other persecutions, supposed at the time to be
actuated by zeal for pure religion, were in fact chiefly a source of
revenue, and the policy thus inaugurated,—of stifling the commerce, the
industry, the free thought and the energy of the nation at the beginning
of its greatness,—is now seen to have been one of the important causes
of its decline.
Note 393 page 204. Of these two remarkable queens, one was doubtless
Federico III’s widow, the Isabella del Balzo who is mentioned below (see
note 400). The other may possibly have been her predecessor Joanna, the
aunt and widow of Ferdinand II; or (more probably) Ippolita Maria, who
was a daughter of the first Sforza duke of Milan and wife of Ferdinand
II’s father and predecessor Alfonso II, and of whom Dennistoun says (ii,
122): “It was for this princess that Constantine Lascaris composed the
earliest Greek Grammar; and in the convent library of Sta. Croce at Rome
there is a transcript by her of Cicero’s _De Senectute_, followed by a
juvenile collection of Latin apothegms curiously indicative of her
character and studies.”
Note 394 page 204. BEATRICE OF ARAGON, (born 1457; died 1508), was the
daughter of Ferdinand I of Naples and Isabelle de Clermont. In 1476 she
married Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary. On his death in 1490, she
married Ladislas II of Bohemia, who for a time prevented the succession
of Matthias’s natural son John. However the youth attained the Hungarian
throne with the aid of the Emperor Maximilian; whereupon Beatrice was
repudiated by Ladislas and her marriage was annulled by Alexander VI. In
1501 she returned to Italy, resided at Ischia and died childless. Like
her elder sister, the Duchess Eleanora of Ferrara (see note 399), she
was a woman of cultivation and taste, and in spite of her political
intrigues, she is praised for having done much to strengthen the
intellectual bonds between Italy and Hungary, to which country she
invited Italian poets, scholars and artists.
Note 395 page 204. MATTHIAS CORVINUS, (born 1443; died 1490), was the
son of the famous Hungarian general János Hunyadi, and in 1458 was
proclaimed King of Hungary by the soldiers whom his father had so often
led to victory. His life was a nearly continuous series of great
enterprises, among the most noted of which were his campaigns against
the Turks and his siege and capture (1485) of Vienna, where he
thereafter resided chiefly and died. By no means the least part of his
fame was won by the ardour with which he advanced the cause of science,
art and letters in his country, and bestowed upon his people not only an
enlightened code of laws but also the benefits of Renaissance culture.
He introduced printing into Hungary, and was the founder of a
magnificent public library at Buda Pest, containing fifty thousand
volumes, for the most part MSS. which he caused to be copied in Italy
and the East.
Note 396 page 204. ISABELLA OF ARAGON, (born 1470; died 1524), was the
daughter of Alfonso II of Naples and Ippolita Maria, daughter of the
first Sforza duke of Milan. In 1489 she made a splendid entry into Milan
as the bride of her own cousin Giangaleazzo Sforza, whose rights as duke
were gradually usurped by his uncle Ludovico il Moro. This usurpation
has been regarded as partly due to the ambition of Ludovico’s young
wife, Beatrice d’Este (see note 398), who could not endure the
precedence rightfully belonging to Isabella. As has been seen, it was to
protect himself against the wrath of Isabella’s father and grandfather,
that Ludovico invited Charles VIII into Italy as his ally. When Charles
reached Pavia, he had to endure the pathetic spectacle of his forlorn
cousin Giangaleazzo (they were sisters’ sons) in prison, and to hear the
piteous pleadings of the beautiful Isabella, who fell at his feet and
besought him to have mercy on her husband. Her appeal was withstood, and
Ludovico of course had no scruple in setting aside the rights of her
infant children. Fresh trials awaited her in her native country, to
which she returned in 1500, and from which her family had been expelled.
Note 397 page 204. ISABELLA D’ESTE, (born 1474; died 1539), was the
oldest child of Duke Ercole I of Ferrara and Eleanora of Aragon. Having
had Mario Equicola as preceptor, she married the Marquess Gianfrancesco
Gonzaga (see note 446) in 1490, her early betrothal to whom prevented
her from becoming the wife of Ludovico Sforza, the duke of Milan, who
soon afterwards married her sister Beatrice. At Mantua she continued her
literary and artistic training, and her court became one of the
brightest and most active centres of Italian culture. The chief poets
and painters of the time laboured for her or were her friends. Being for
years in her husband’s service, Castiglione knew her closely, maintained
a frequent exchange of letters with her, and is only one of many who
praise her beauty, her intellect, and her moral qualities; she may be
regarded as the most splendid incarnation of the Renaissance ideal of
woman. Her long friendship with her sister-in-law, “My lady Duchess,”
has been already mentioned. Some interesting details have survived as to
her manner of ordering a picture. Having chosen a subject, she had it
set forth in writing by some humanist of her court. These specifications
were then given to the painter chosen for the purpose, and he was
furnished with minute directions as to the placing of the figures and
the distribution of light, and required to make a preliminary sketch. As
the painting was often intended for a specific space, she took great
care to secure the exact dimensions desired, by providing two pieces of
ribbon to show the precise height and breadth of the picture. Isabella’s
brilliant career, and especially her close relations with the chief men
of her day and her weighty influence upon contemporary politics, are the
subject of many scholarly volumes and interesting articles written
jointly by Alessandro Luzio of Mantua and Rodolfo Renier of Turin.
[Illustration:
ISABELLA OF ARAGON
DUCHESS OF MILAN
1470-1524
]
Enlarged from a negative, specially made by Alinari through the courtesy
of Professor I. B. Supino, of a medal, in the National Museum at
Florence, by Giancristoforo Romano (1465?-1512). See Armand’s _Les
Médailleurs Italiens_, ii, 54, no. 1.
Note 398 page 204. BEATRICE D’ESTE, (born 1475; died 1497), married
Ludovico Sforza, Duke Regent of Milan, in the same year (1491) in which
his niece Anna Sforza married Beatrice’s brother Alfonso, the future
husband of Lucrezia Borgia. Younger, apparently less beautiful, and
certainly less accomplished than her sister Isabella, Beatrice
encouraged her husband’s patronage of art and letters, and took part in
his turbid political schemes. It will perhaps never be determined
precisely to what extent she was responsible for his treatment of his
young nephew and of the latter’s wife (see note 396), and for the
disasters to Italy that ensued, but she is known to have exercised a
great ascendency over her husband’s mind, and he is said to have spent
at her tomb the last night before his final capture and downfall. After
the expulsion of the French from Italy in 1512, her sons Maximilian and
Francesco Maria successively held the duchy for a time, until it passed
into the hands of Spain in 1535. For an account of her life, the reader
is referred to Mrs. Henry Ady’s recently published “Beatrice d’Este,
Duchess of Milan; a Study of the Renaissance,” which owes much to the
labours of Luzio and Renier.
Note 399 page 205. ELEANORA OF ARAGON, (born 1450; died 1493), was the
elder sister of the Beatrice who married Matthias Corvinus of Hungary. A
projected union with Ludovico Sforza (who afterwards married her
daughter) having been abandoned, she became in 1473 the wife of Duke
Ercole I of Ferrara, and bore him two daughters and four sons. Other
contemporary accounts confirm the praise bestowed upon her by
Castiglione, and show her to have been a woman of rare merit, manly
courage and enlightened culture. Fond of music, and herself a player
upon the harp, she seems to have been a discriminating patroness of art
and letters, and at the same time to have taken an active share in the
serious cares of government, especially when her husband was absent or
disabled. A pleasant glimpse of her character is gained from a letter
written by her to the duke’s treasurer on behalf of a certain Neapolitan
engineer, who had rendered important services but had fallen ill and was
in want. “You will see what this poor man’s needs are. You know with
what devotion he has served us, nor are you ignorant who sent him to
us,—a circumstance worthy of consideration. It would ill become us so to
treat him in his sickness as to give him cause for complaint against us.
You must know what his pay is. See, then, what can be done, and arrange
for helping him.” She did not live to witness the downfall of her family
in Naples.
Note 400 page 205. ISABELLA DEL BALZO, (died 1533), was a daughter of
the Prince of Altamura, and the wife of Federico III of Naples (see note
401). When her husband lost his crown in 1501, she (together with the
faithful Sannazaro) accompanied him to France, and shared his exile
there until his death in 1504. Being, by the terms of a treaty between
Louis XII and Ferdinand the Catholic, compelled to leave France, she and
her four children took refuge, first with her sister Antonia at
Gazzuolo, and then at Ferrara, where she was kindly treated and
maintained by her husband’s nephew Duke Alfonso d’Este. Here she spent
the last twenty-five years of her life, but at times in such poverty
that when Julius II placed Ferrara under the ban of the Church, she
obtained special permission to have religious services performed in her
house, on the plea that she had not the means wherewith to leave the
city.
Note 401 page 205. FEDERICO III, (born 1452; died 1504), was a son of
Ferdinand I of Naples, a younger brother of Alfonso II, and an uncle of
his immediate predecessor, Ferdinand II. Having taken part in the weak
resistance offered to Charles VIII’s invasion of Naples in 1494, he
became king on the early death of his nephew in October 1496, and seems
to have tried to keep aloof from the turbulent schemes in which
Alexander VI sought to involve him. After another vain attempt to
withstand the invasion of Louis XII, and having been shamefully betrayed
by the Emperor Maximilian and Ferdinand the Catholic, to both of whom he
had appealed for aid, he retired with his wife and children to the
island of Ischia (which furnished refuge at the same time to his widowed
sister Beatrice, ex-Queen of Hungary, and to his widowed niece Isabella,
ex-Duchess of Milan), ceded his crown to Louis XII in exchange for
30,000 ducats and the Countship of Maine, and spent the last three years
of his life in France.
Note 402 page 205. Federico’s eldest son Ferdinand, DUKE OF CALABRIA,
was besieged in Taranto during the Franco-Spanish invasion which
resulted in his father’s downfall. On a sworn promise to set him free,
he surrendered to the Great Captain (see note 239), but was
treacherously detained and sent as a prisoner to Spain, where he was
treated by Ferdinand the Catholic with almost royal honours. He
continued to reside in Spain, and on the death of his mother in 1533, he
was joined at Valencia by his two sisters.
Note 403 page 205. The reference here is probably to the siege of Pisa
by the Florentines in 1499, which was finally abandoned owing in part at
least to the bravery of the Pisan women. Castiglione himself was the
author of some Latin verses celebrating an incident of the siege.
[Illustration:
FEDERICO III OF NAPLES
1452-1504
]
Enlarged from a cast, courteously furnished by Professor I. B. Supino,
of an anonymous medal in the National Museum at Florence. See
Armand’s _Les Médailleurs Italiens_, ii, 59.
Note 404 page 205. TOMYRIS was in fact queen of the Massagetæ, who were
a nomadic people allied to the Scythians and dwelt north-east of the
Caspian Sea. Herodotus relates that Cyrus the Great sent her an offer of
marriage, and on being refused, invaded her kingdom and captured her
son, but was finally defeated and slain, 529 B.C. The ARTEMISIA referred
to in the text is probably not the Queen of Halicarnassus (who fought on
the Persian side at Salamis in 480 B.C.), but rather the sister-consort
and successor of King Mausolus of Caria, a state on the western coast of
Asia Minor. On her husband’s death in 352 B.C., she reigned two years
until she pined away for grief. The monument, Mausoleum, erected by her
to his memory at Halicarnassus, was regarded as one of the seven wonders
of the world—the others being: the Egyptian pyramids, the temple of
Artemis at Ephesus, the walls and hanging gardens of Babylon, Phidias’s
statue of Zeus at Olympia, the Colossus at Rhodes, and the lighthouse at
Alexandria. ZENOBIA, an Arab by birth, was the second wife of Odenathus,
King of Palmyra, which lay to the east of Syria. On the death of her
husband, about 266 A.D., she acted as regent for her sons and seems to
have shown great talent for war as well as for the arts of wise
administration; but in her effort to extend her sway over the entire
East, she was defeated by the Emperor Aurelian, and adorned his triumph
in golden chains at Rome. She was allowed to spend the remainder of her
life in dignified retirement at Tibur (Tivoli). SEMIRAMIS was the
legendary daughter of the Syrian goddess Derketo, and with her husband
Ninus was regarded as the founder of Nineveh. On his death she assumed
the government of Assyria, built the city of Babylon and its wonderful
gardens, conquered Egypt, etc. To her the Greeks ascribed nearly
everything marvellous in the East. Her name appears in inscriptions as
that of the consort of an Assyrian ruler who reigned 811-782 B.C.
CLEOPATRA, (69-30 B.C.), was directly descended in the eighth generation
from Ptolemy I, the most noted of Alexander the Great’s generals and the
founder of the Egyptian dynasty that ended with her life. Her
establishment as sole ruler, to the exclusion of her two brothers, was
due to the favour of Julius Cæsar, who is said to have acknowledged the
paternity of her son Cæsarion, ultimately put to death by order of
Augustus. Her love of literature, and the refinement of her luxury, show
her to have been no mere voluptuary.
Note 405 page 206. SARDANAPALUS,—Assurbanipal, the Asnapper of the Old
Testament,—ruled over Assyria from 668 to 626 B.C., and was the last
monarch of the empire reputed to have been founded by Ninus and
Semiramis. His name became a by-word for effeminate luxury, but in
recent times the discovery and study of the larger part of the tablets
composing his library, prove him to have been a vigorous king and an
intelligent patron of art and literature.
Note 406 page 207. In his life of Alexander, Plutarch extols the
magnanimity with which the youthful monarch treated the captive mother,
wife and two daughters, of Darius, the last King of Persia, whom he had
utterly defeated in the battle of Arbela, 331 B.C. In furtherance of his
plan of uniting his European and Asiatic subjects into one people,
Alexander afterwards married Bersine, the elder of Darius’s two
daughters.
Note 407 page 208. This incident is narrated in Valerius Maximus’s
“Memorable Sayings and Doings” as having occurred in the first Spanish
campaign of Scipio Africanus Maximus, 210 B.C., when that commander was
in his twenty-fourth year.
Note 408 page 208. This story of the Platonist philosopher Xenocrates
(396-314 B.C.) is derived from the same source last cited. His teaching
was characterized by the loftiest morality, and included a declaration
that it comes to the same thing whether we cast longing eyes, or set our
feet, upon the property of others. The ‘very beautiful woman’ of the
text is variously mentioned as Phryne and Laïs, rival _hetairai_ said to
have served as models to the painter Apelles.
Note 409 page 208. Cicero’s version of this anecdote (_De Officiis_, i,
40) mentions Sophocles as the ‘someone’ rebuked by Pericles.
Note 410 page 210. The Italians still say:
_Donna pregata, nega;
E disprezzata, prega._
Note 411 page 213. The present translator prefers not to offer an
English version of the following passage, but to reprint it, line for
line, from the Aldine folio of 1528:
si che questo piu tosto un stratogema militare dir si
poria, che pura continentia: auenga anchora che la fama di questo non
sia molto sincera: perche alcuni scrittori d’authorità affermano questa
giouane esser stata da Scipione goduta in amorose delicie: ma di quello
che ui dico io, dubbio alcuno non è. Disse il Phrigio, Douete ha
uerlo trouato ne gli euangelii. Io stesso l’ho ueduto rispose M. Ces. &
però n’ho molto maggior certezza, che non potete hauer, ne uoi, ne altri
che Alcibiade si leuasse dal letto di Socrate non altrimēti, che si facciano
i figlioli dal letto de i padri: che pur strano loco, e tempo era il let
to, & la notte, per contemplar quella pura bellezza: laqual si dice che amaua
Socrate senza alcun desiderio dishonesto, massimamente amādo
piu la bellezza dell’animo, che del corpo: ma ne i fanciulli & nò ne i
uecchi, anchor che siano piu sauii: & certo non si potea gia trouar miglior
exempio, per laudar la continentia de glihomini, che quello di
Xenocrate: che essendo uersato ne gli studii, astretto, & obligato dalla
profession sua, che è la philosophia, laquale consiste ne i boni costumi,
& non nelle parole, uecchio, exhausto del uigor naturale, nō potendo,
ne mostrando segno di potere, s’astenne da una femina publica: laquale
per questo nome solo potea uenirgli à fastidio: piu crederei che fosse sta
to continente, se qualche segno de risentirsi hauesse dimostrato, & in tal
termine usato la continentia: ouero astenutosi da quello, che i uecchi
piu desiderano che —le battaglie di Venere, cioè dal uino: ma per comprobar
ben la continentia senile, scriuesi che di questo era pieno, & gra
ue: & qual cosa dir si po piu aliena della continentia d’un uecchio: che
la ebrietà? & se lo astenerse dalle cose ueneree in quella pigra, & fredda
età merita tanta laude, quanta ne deue meritar in una tenera giouane,
come quelle due di chi dianzi u’ho detto? dellequali l’una imponēdo
durissime leggi à tutti i sensi suoi, non solamente à gliocchi negaua la
sua luce, ma toglieua al core quei pensieri, che soli lungamēti erano sta
ti dulcissimo cibo per tenerlo in uita. l’altra ardente innamorata ritrouādosi
tante volte sola nelle braccia di quello, che piu assai, che tutto’l
resto del mondo amaua, contra se stessa, & contra colui, che piu, che se
stessa le era caro, combattendo uincea quello ardente desiderio che spes
so ha uinto, & uince tanti sauii homini. Nō ui pare hora S. Gasp. che
douessino i scrittori uergognarsi di far memoria di Xenocrate in questo
caso? & chiamarlo per continente? che chi potesse sapere, io metterei
pegno che esso tutta quella notte sino al giorno sequēte ad hora di desinare
dormi come morto sepulto nel uino: ne mai per stropicciar che
gli facesse quella femina, potè aprir gliocchi, come se fusse stato all’opia
to. Quiui risero tutti glihomini & donne: & la S. Emil. pur ridēdo Ve
ramente disse S. Gasp. se ui pensate un poco meglio credo che trouarete
anchor qualche altro bello exempio di continentia simile à questo.
Rispose M. Ces. Nō ui par Signora, che bello exempio di continentia
sia quell’altro che egli ha allegato di Pericle? Marauigliomi ben chel
non habbia anchor ricordato la continētia, & quel bel detto, che si scri
ue di colui, à chi una donna domādò troppo gran prezzo per una not
te, & esso le rispose, che non compraua cosi caro il pentirsi. Rideasi tut
ta uia & M. Ces. hauendo alquanto tacciuto ... disse:
The only other instance in which the translator has suppressed any part
of the text is in line 10 of page 212, where the Italian word _ignuda_
is not rendered.
[Illustration:
ELEANORA OF ARAGON
DUCHESS OF FERRARA
1450-1493
]
Reduced from a photograph, kindly furnished by M. Gustave Dreyfus, of an
anonymous bas-relief in his collection at Paris. The sculptor may
possibly have been Sperandio di Bartolommeo de’ Savelli
(1425?-1500?). See note 399.
Note 412 page 214. The event occurred in 1501, six years before the date
of the Courtier dialogues.
Note 413 page 214. The Volturno flows through Capua.
Note 414 page 214. Gazuolo or Gazzuolo is now the name of an Italian
commune, containing less than 5,000 inhabitants, and situated eleven
miles west of Mantua.
Note 415 page 214. The Oglio is a river of Lombardy about 135 miles
long; it traverses the Lake of Iseo, and joins the Po some ten miles
south-west of Mantua.
Note 416 page 214. In two earlier MS. versions of THE COURTIER, the
passage ‘Now from this ... even her name is unknown’ reads: “Then messer
Pietro Bembo said: ‘In truth, if I knew this noble peasant girl’s name,
I would compose an epitaph for her.’ ‘Do not stop for that,’ said messer
Cesare; ‘her name is Maddalena Biga, and if the Bishop’s death had not
occurred, that bank of the Oglio’” etc.
With slight variations this story is narrated as fact in a letter of
Matteo Bandello (1480-1562), from whose tales Shakspere took plots for
his plays. The letter gives the poor girl’s name as Giulia and that of
the Bishop of Mantua as Ludovico Gonzaga, and relates that, as it was
unlawful to bury her remains in consecrated soil, he caused them to be
deposited in the piazza, intending to place them in a bronze sarcophagus
mounted on a marble column. The letter also affirms that the ravisher
was one of the bishop’s valets.
Note 417 page 215. This was Ludovico Gonzaga, (born 1458; died 1511), a
son of the Marquess Ludovico of Mantua and Barbara of Brandenburg, and a
younger brother of “my lady Duchess’s” father. Made BISHOP OF MANTUA in
1483, he continued to hold that office until his death, and appears from
various contemporary documents to have been a liberal and wise prince.
The last years of his life were spent at Gazzuolo, which he made a
centre of culture, art and learning. His brother Gianfrancesco was
husband of the Antonia del Balzo mentioned above, note 400. For
particulars regarding him, see an article by Rossi in the _Giornale
Storico della Letteratura Italiana_, xiii, 305.
Note 418 page 215. The basilica of St. Sebastian, on the Appian Way,
dates from the 4th century, was built over the most famous of the
catacombs, and enjoyed an exceptional veneration during the Middle Ages.
The saint was a young military tribune born in Gaul, suffered martyrdom
under Diocletian about the year 288, and was buried in the catacombs of
Callistus. St. George and he were the favourite saints of chivalry, and
may be regarded as the martial Castor and Pollux of Christian myth.
Note 419 page 216. FELICE DELLA ROVERE, (died about 1536), was a natural
daughter of Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere (afterwards Julius II) and a
certain Lucrezia, the wife of Bernardo de Cuppis (or Coppi) da
Montefolco; thus “my lord Prefect” of THE COURTIER was her own cousin.
In 1506 she became the second wife of the elderly and eccentric
Giangiordano Orsini, and the ancestress of the Dukes of Bracciano. Her
name often occurs in contemporary documents, not only on account of her
lofty position but because of her love of art and letters. Both
Castiglione and Giancristoforo Romano were her friends. The incident
mentioned in the text seems not to be referred to elsewhere. Savona, a
seaport on the western Riviera, is near the birthplace of Felice’s
great-uncle, Pope Sixtus IV, who was the founder of the della Rovere
family.
Note 420 page 216. Duke Guidobaldo’s impotence is said to have given
rise to the project of a divorce for his duchess.
Note 421 page 218. The reference here is to Ovid’s _Ars Amandi_, which
enjoyed an extraordinary reputation during the Renaissance, and from
which this passage is largely derived.
Note 422 page 220. The LAURA to whom Petrarch consecrated no less than
three hundred and eighteen sonnets, is usually regarded as identical
with Laure, the daughter of a certain knight of Avignon, Audibert de
Noves. If this identification be correct, she was born in 1308, married
Hughes de Sade in 1325, became the mother of eleven children, and died
in 1348. In 1533 Francis I caused her reputed tomb to be opened, and
found in it a small box which contained a medal bearing a woman’s
profile, and a parchment on which was a sonnet signed by Petrarch.
Note 423 page 220. The so-called “Song of Solomon” is now thought to be
the work of a period later than Solomon’s and to contain no mystic
meaning.
Note 424 page 222. In the old romance, “Amadis of Gaul,” Isola Ferma is
an enchanted island, with a garden at the entrance to which stands an
arch surmounted by the statue of a man holding a trumpet to his mouth.
Whenever an unfaithful lover attempts to pass, the trumpet emits a
dreadful sound with fire and smoke, and drives the culprit back; while
it welcomes all true lovers with sweetest music.
Note 425 page 228. Here again the reference is of course to “my lady
Duchess.”
Note 426 page 235. The _Hypnerotomachia Poliphili_, first published by
Aldus in 1499, was written by Francesco Colonna, a Dominican friar of
Venice, who died an old man in 1527. The book is rare, and is said to be
an allegorical romance full of lascivious erudition, and written in a
pedantically affected mixture of Italian, Latin, and Venetian _patois_.
Note 427 page 237. _Ars Amandi_, i, 597-602.
Note 428 page 237. _Ars Amandi_, i, 569-72.
NOTES TO THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE COURTIER
Note 429 page 243. Gaspar Pallavicino died in 1511, at the age of
twenty-five.
Note 430 page 243. Cesare Gonzaga died in 1512, at about the age of
thirty-seven. See note 43.
Note 431 page 244. Federico Fregoso was named Archbishop of Salerno in
1507, very soon after the date of the Courtier dialogues; see note 41.
Ludovico da Canossa became Bishop of Bayeux in 1520; see note 44.
Ottaviano Fregoso became Doge of Genoa in 1513; see note 11.
Bibbiena was made cardinal, and Bembo was appointed papal secretary, in
1513; see notes 10 and 42.
Giuliano de’ Medici was created Duke of Nemours in 1515. As he died in
1516, Castiglione’s use of the present tense (‘that greatness where now
he is’) is inconsistent with the mention of Canossa as Bishop of Bayeux.
See note 9.
Francesco Maria della Rovere succeeded to the dukedom in 1508; see note
3.
Note 432 page 244. ELEANORA GONZAGA, (born about 1492; died 1543), was
the eldest daughter of the Marquess Gianfrancesco of Mantua and Isabella
d’Este. In 1505 Castiglione negotiated her union with Francesco Maria
della Rovere, but the marriage did not take place until Christmas Eve
1509, upon which occasion Bembo wrote to Federico Fregoso that he had
never seen a comelier, merrier or sweeter girl, and that her amiable
disposition and surprisingly precocious judgment won general admiration.
She seems to have maintained affectionate relations with her aunt and
predecessor (“my lady Duchess” of THE COURTIER), whose fame quite
outshone her own, and to have exhibited in after life no little strength
of character. She is said to have excluded, and even to have expelled,
great ladies of questionable morality from her court. Titian’s portrait
(1537) represents her in middle age, but his pictures, _La Bella_ and
_Das Mädchen im Pelz_, as well as several of his Venus heads, are
generally regarded as idealized presentations of her more youthful face.
Note 433 page 249. The Piazza d’Agone occupied the site of the ancient
_Circus Agonalis_, which derived its name from the _Agonalia_, a
festival held twice a year in honour of Janus. Before, during and long
after Castiglione’s time, it was a centre of festivals, amusements and
spectacles at the carnival season. It is now called the Piazza Navona.
Note 434 page 250. The famous Athenian commander CIMON, (died 449 B.C.),
was the son of the still more famous Miltiades. His victories repulsed
the last Persian aggressions and consolidated the Athenian supremacy.
Although an admirer of Spartan institutions, he seems to have been of a
somewhat indulgent disposition. The SCIPIO here referred to, is probably
Publius Cornelius Scipio the Elder, who was the victor over Hannibal and
died 183 B.C. LUCULLUS is cited earlier in THE COURTIER as an instance
of a soldier with studious tastes; see note 113.
Note 435 page 250. The Theban general and statesman EPAMINONDAS, (died
362 B.C.), is said by Plutarch to have enjoyed the instruction of the
Pythagorean philosopher LYSIS of Tarentum, who was driven out of Italy
in the persecution of his sect, and found refuge at Thebes.
Note 436 page 250. AGESILAUS was King of Sparta 398-361 B.C. Although
small and lame, he was the greatest Spartan commander, and became famous
for his victories against the Persian and Greek enemies of his country.
XENOPHON, historian, essayist and disciple of Socrates, was banished
from Athens about the time of Socrates’s death (399 B.C.), accompanied
Agesilaus into Asia, and wrote a panegyric upon him, regarded by Cicero
as more glorious than all the statues erected to kings.
The reverence and love of SCIPIO THE YOUNGER (about 185-129 B.C.) for
the Rhodian Stoic philosopher PANAÆTIUS (about 180-111 B.C.) is
frequently mentioned by Cicero, from whose _De Oratore_ Castiglione
seems to have taken this whole passage.
Note 437 page 252. In Greek mythology Epimetheus (Afterthought) and
Prometheus (Forethought) were sons of the Titan Iapetus and the ocean
nymph Clymene. Angered by a deceit practised upon him by Prometheus,
Zeus withheld from men the use of fire; but Prometheus stole fire from
heaven and brought it to earth in a hollow reed. For this offence he was
chained to a rock where an eagle preyed daily upon his liver (which grew
again in the night), until he was finally liberated by Hercules. As
compensation for the boon of fire, Zeus sent Pandora (the first woman,
endowed with beauty, cunning and other attributes designed to bring woe
to man) to be the wife of Epimetheus. Although warned by his brother,
Epimetheus accepted her, with the result that she set free the evils
which Prometheus had concealed in a box. In a later form of the legend,
she received from the gods a box containing the blessings of life, and
on her being moved by curiosity to open the box, all of them (save hope)
escaped and were lost.
Note 438 page 263. BIAS was born at Priene in Asia Minor, and lived in
the 6th century B.C. He was celebrated for his apothegms and reckoned
among the Seven Sages of Greece,—the other six being: Thales of Miletus,
Solon of Athens, Chilon of Sparta, Cleobulus of Rhodes, Periander of
Corinth, and Pittacus of Mitylene,—all of whom flourished about 600 B.C.
The fame of these seven men rested not upon their philosophy, as we use
the word, but upon their practical wisdom—the fruit of experience.
[Illustration:
GIANFRANCESCO GONZAGA
MARQUESS OF MANTUA
BROTHER OF “MY LADY DUCHESS”
1466-1519
]
Enlarged from a photograph, kindly furnished by Signer Alessandro Luzio
and made by his friend Signor Lanzoni, of a portrait attributed to
Francesco Bonsignori (1455-1519) and owned by the antiquary
Bressanelli of Mantua.
Note 439 page 264. CLEARCHUS, (died 353 B.C.), was for twelve years a
cruel tyrant, not of Pontus, but of Heraclea (the modern Eregli), a city
on the Black Sea about 140 miles east of Constantinople. He is said to
have been a pupil of both Plato and Isocrates, the latter of whom
represents him as a gentle youth.
Note 440 page 264. Of the dozen or more ancients known to have borne the
name ARISTODEMUS, none seem to fit precisely the description given in
the text, which is taken from a passage in Plutarch’s “On the Ignorant
Prince.” Plutarch may have had in mind a certain tyrant of Megalopolis
in the 3d century B.C.
Note 441 page 269. The reference here is to Book V of “The Republic.”
Note 442 page 270. Fregoso here declares for what has been called “that
Utopia of the 16th Century—the _Governo Misto_—a political invention
which fascinated the imagination of Italian statesmen much in the same
way as the theory of perpetual motion attracted scientific minds in the
last century.” (Symonds’s “Renaissance in Italy,” i, 306.) In this
regard the men of Castiglione’s time, men like Machiavelli and
Guicciardini, were only following Plato and Aristotle.
Note 443 page 270. The reference here is to the _Cyropædia_, i, 6.
Note 444 page 270. Castiglione seems to have in mind the game of _tavola
reale_, which is similar to our backgammon.
Note 445 page 273. Circe’s transformation of some of Ulysses’s
companions into swine is narrated in the tenth book of the Odyssey. In
Castiglione’s day the term “King of France” was used to signify the acme
of royal power.
Note 446 page 274. GIANFRANCESCO—more commonly called FRANCESCO—GONZAGA,
(born 1466; died 1519), was the eldest son of the Marquess Federico of
Mantua and Margarita of Bavaria, and a brother of “my lady Duchess.”
Having succeeded his father in 1484, he married (1490) Isabella d’Este,
to whom he had been betrothed at the age of sixteen. Like his ancestors
and most other petty Italian rulers of his time, he was at once
_condottiere_ and sovereign prince. He commanded the Italian troops
against Charles VIII, and although with an overwhelmingly superior force
he failed to block the retreat of the French at Fornovo, he treated that
disgraceful affair as a glorious victory, and even caused it to be
commemorated by Mantegna in a votive picture now in the Louvre. He
served successively as captain of the imperial troops in Italy, as
commander of Duke Ludovico Sforza’s army, as viceroy of Naples under
Louis XII, etc. He joined the League of Cambray and was taken prisoner
by the Venetians. In the general disorders that filled the period of his
reign, he and his more brilliant wife had the address to protect his
dominions from the ravages of war. Although, as Castiglione’s natural
lord, he was asked and gave his consent to the latter’s entry into the
Duke of Urbino’s court (1504), he seems to have continued to resent the
affair until Castiglione’s return (1516) to his service,—in which the
author remained when this part of the text was written. Castiglione’s
eulogy was far from undeserved, for to the Marquess’s munificence, no
less than to his consort’s taste and enthusiasm, must be ascribed the
lustre of their provincial court. Besides being a patron of art and
letters, he was also a successful breeder of horses for use both in war
and in racing.
Note 447 page 274. The duke is said to have had no small share in
planning the palace; his chief architect was one Luciano, a native of
Laurana in Dalmatia on the eastern coast of the Adriatic. The cost of
the structure was about £400,000 sterling. See, besides the authorities
cited in note 28, Luzio and Renier’s _Mantova e Urbino_, (Roux: Turin:
1893), p. 10, note 1.
Note 448 page 274. The ancient basilica of St. Peter’s had become
ruinous by 1450, but little was done towards rebuilding it until 1506,
when the execution of Bramante’s plan was begun with the solemn laying
of the first stone by Julius II on Sunday, 18 April. On the death of
Bramante, Raphael was put in charge of the work in 1514, as we have seen
(note 98), but, apparently owing to lack of funds, progress was slow
until 1534 when Michelangelo’s designs were substituted. The dome was
completed in 1590, and the church dedicated in 1626.
Note 449 page 274. This ‘street’ was designed by Bramante to be a kind
of triumphal way connecting the Vatican with the Belvedere pavilion. It
was to be bordered by palaces, courts, gardens, porticoes, terraces,
etc., but the death of Julius II led to the abandonment of the plan.
Note 450 page 274. Pozzuoli (the ancient Puteoli), situated seven miles
west of Naples, was originally a Greek city, but became one of the chief
commercial ports of the Roman Empire, and a resort of the patrician
class. It is noted for its ruins, especially those of a large
amphitheatre.
Baja (the ancient Baiæ), on the Gulf of Pozzuoli, was the chief Roman
watering place, famous for its luxury, and containing the villas of many
celebrated Romans. Its principal antiquities are ruins of baths.
Civita Vecchia lies on the coast about thirty-eight miles north-west of
Rome, and was anciently known as Centum Cellæ. The Emperor Trajan
(reigned 98-117 A.D.) converted it from a poor village into a great
seaport, and of his monuments some remains are still extant.
Porto was a Roman city near the mouths of the Tiber. In Castiglione’s
time it had become a marshy island. One of the earliest Italian
archæologists, Flavio Biondo, visited the site in 1451, and found there
many huge marble blocks ready for building and bearing quarry marks of
the imperial period. The Apollo Belvedere was discovered here in 1503.
Note 451 page 274. Almost the same phrase occurs in the well known
letter which Raphael (who had been appointed guardian of antiquities)
wrote to Leo X, urging the pontiff to avert the complete destruction of
“that little which remains of Italian glory and greatness in proof of
the worth and power of those divine minds.” Castiglione was long
supposed to be the author of the letter, but is now believed only to
have aided Raphael in its composition.
Note 452 page 274. Alexandria was founded by the conqueror in 332 B.C.
Bucephalia (founded 327 B.C.) was situated on the river Hydaspes (the
modern Jhelum), a branch of the Indus, about 120 miles north-west of
Lahore, and was named in honour of Alexander’s favourite horse, which
died there. Bucephalus (ox-headed) is supposed to have been a name given
to Thessalian horses, which were branded with a bull’s head.
Note 453 page 274. Mount Athos (6780 feet high) forms the extremity of
the easternmost peninsula of Chalcidice in Macedonia. During the Persian
invasion of Xerxes (480 B.C.) it was temporarily converted into an
island, and since the Middle Ages has been noted for its monasteries.
Both Vitruvius and Plutarch give an account of the project mentioned in
the text, and ascribe it to a Macedonian architect who appears under the
names, Dinocrates, Cheirocrates, and Stasicrates,—and who also planned
the city of Alexandria and was chosen to rebuild the great temple of
Artemis at Ephesus. The statue was to represent Alexander, who is said
to have abandoned the idea when he learned that the city to be placed in
the hand of the statue would be without territory and could be
provisioned only by sea,—saying that such a city would be like a child
that cannot grow for failure of its nurse’s milk.
Note 454 page 275. In Athenian legend PROCRUSTES was a cruel robber, who
had a bed upon which he tortured his captives by stretching those who
were too short and by cutting off the legs of those who were too long.
He was finally slain by the hero Theseus.
SCIRON was another legendary Attic robber, who compelled his victims to
wash his feet on the Scironian rocks near Athens, and then kicked them
into the sea where they served to fatten the turtles upon which he fed.
He also was slain by Theseus, and in the same manner in which he had
slain others.
In Roman myth CACUS was a gigantic son of Vulcan, living near the site
of Rome. He robbed Hercules of some of the cattle stolen from the
monster Geryon, and dragged them into his cave backwards, so that they
could not be tracked; but Hercules discovered them by their lowing, and
slew the thief.
DIOMED (not the Argive prince of the Iliad, but Ares’s mythical son, who
was king over the Bistones in Thrace) was slain by Hercules because he
was accustomed to feed his mares on human flesh.
ANTÆUS was a fabulous and gigantic wrestler of Libya, reputed to be the
son of Poseidon and Gæa, the Earth goddess. Being held aloft and thus
deprived of the miraculous strength derived from contact with his mother
earth, he was crushed to death by Hercules. GERYON was the mythical
three-headed king of Hesperia, the theft of whose cattle constituted the
tenth of the Twelve Labours of Hercules.
Note 455 page 275. “The crimes of the tyrants against their subjects and
the members of their own families had produced a correlative order of
crime in the people over whom they tyrannized. Cruelty was met by
conspiracy. Tyrannicide became honourable; and the proverb, ‘He who
gives his own life can take a tyrant’s,’ had worked itself into the
popular language.” (Symonds’s “Renaissance in Italy,” i, 154.) “The
study of the classics, especially of Plutarch, at this time as also
during the French Revolution, fired the imagination of patriots.” (Id.,
151, note 2.)
Note 456 page 275. Similar exhortations to a fresh crusade are of
frequent occurrence in Italian literature of this period, and were often
used by popes and princes as a cover for their selfish designs.
Note 457 page 275. The meaning obviously is that if they had not been
exiled, they never would have enjoyed their present prosperity. Plutarch
tells the story in four slightly varying forms.
Note 458 page 276. MONSEIGNEUR D’ANGOULÊME afterwards became Francis I
(see note 111). Even stronger evidence of the author’s admiration than
this and another passage (see page 57), is afforded by the Proem with
which he originally intended to preface the dialogues, but for which he
seems to have been led by political considerations to substitute the
introduction finally printed.
Note 459 page 276. HENRY, PRINCE OF WALES, afterwards Henry VIII, (born
1491; died 1547), was the younger son of Henry VII and Elizabeth of
York, and was educated for the church. Having succeeded his father in
1509, he married (in accordance with his parents’ wish) his elder
brother Arthur’s widow, Catherine, the youngest child of Ferdinand and
Isabella the Catholic. His accession was hailed with enthusiasm. Left
rich through his father’s avarice, he was generous, frank, handsome,
exceptionally robust, and an accomplished athlete and scholar. Good men
were delighted with the purity of his life, his gaiety pleased the
courtiers, and sober statesmen found in him a singular capacity for
business. Besides being a musician, he spoke Latin, French and Spanish,
and was very devout,—usually attending mass five times daily. Even as
late as 1521 he dedicated to the pope an anti-Lutheran tract on the
Seven Sacraments, and in return received the title of Defender of the
Faith. As an offset to the enormities of his later life, it is only just
to remember that he raised England to the rank of a great European
power, and that for twenty years he did nothing to mar the harmony of
his reign.
[Illustration:
HENRY VII OF ENGLAND
1457-1509
]
Reduced from Walker and Boutall’s photograph of an anonymous portrait
(no. 416) in the National Portrait Gallery at London. Painted on an
oak panel for one Herman Rinck in October 1505, the picture was once
owned by M. Julien at Le Mans, by M. Émile Barre at Paris, and by
Mr. E. J. Muller, from whom it was acquired by the Gallery in 1876.
Note 460 page 276. ‘His great father,’ i.e., Henry VII, (born 1457; died
1509), was the son of Edmund Tudor, Earl of Richmond, (a son of Henry
V’s widow Catherine), and Margaret Beaufort, whose paternal grandfather
was an illegitimate half-brother of Henry IV. After the downfall of the
House of Lancaster and the death of the young York princes, Henry
succeeded in gathering a strong party, landed in England and wrested the
crown from Richard III, 1485. Soon afterwards, by his marriage to Edward
IV’s daughter Elizabeth of York, he united the hostile factions that had
so long harassed the kingdom. As a ruler he was avaricious, calculating,
and far from popular. He is said to have left a treasure of £2,000,000
sterling. The marriage of his daughter Margaret to James IV of Scotland
finally led (on the failure of his son’s issue) to the accession of the
Stuarts in the person of her grandson, James I.
Note 461 page 276. This is consistent with the earlier passage (see page
8) where Castiglione pretends to have been absent in England at the date
of the Courtier dialogues. An earlier MS. version here reads: “as we are
told by our friend Castiglione, who has just returned from England,”
which accords with what we have seen (note 23) to be the fact.
Note 462 page 276. DON CARLOS, afterwards the Emperor Charles V, (born
1500; died 1558), was the son of the Emperor Maximilian’s son Philip of
Austria, and of Juana, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella the Catholic.
Born and bred in the Low Countries, and educated at least partly under
the care of the future pope Adrian VI, he is said to have shown less
taste for study than for military exercises, and on his accession to the
Spanish throne in 1516, he was ignorant of the Spanish language. By
right of his grandmother Mary of Burgundy, he already held the
Netherlands. As representative of the house of Aragon, he was king of
Naples and Sicily. On the death of his grandfather Maximilian in 1519,
he inherited Austria, and (in spite of the rivalry of Francis I and the
intrigues of Leo X) was elected Emperor;—thus achieving, without a blow,
a dominion vaster than any in Europe since the time of Charlemagne.
In an earlier MS. version the text here reads: “Then messer Bernardo
Bibbiena said: ‘I do not think that any of those present, except myself,
have seen the prince Don Carlos, who, having recently lost such a father
as the king Don Philip was, has shown such courage and wisdom in this
great bereavement, that although he has not reached the tenth year of
his age, we may nevertheless regard him as competent to rule over all
his hereditary possessions, vast though they be,—and that the Empire of
Christendom (which men think will be in his hands) must grow not a
little in power and dignity.’”
Note 463 page 279. FEDERICO GONZAGA, the first Duke of Mantua, (born
1500; died 1540), was the son of the Marquess Gianfrancesco Gonzaga and
Isabella d’Este. At the age of ten he spent some time as the
hostage-guest of Julius II at Rome, where he seems to have been
generally caressed. Raphael is known to have introduced the boy’s face
into one of the Vatican frescoes, and a little later to have painted his
portrait. Having succeeded his father as marquess in 1519, he waged war
for Leo X against the French. In 1527 he joined the league of Italian
princes against Charles V, but went over to the Emperor’s side two years
later, and was created Duke of Mantua. In 1531 he married Margarita
Paleologus. Both Giulio Romano and Benvenuto Cellini were in his employ.
Note 464 page 280. These lines were written after Ottaviano Fregoso’s
election as Doge of Genoa; see note 11.
Note 465 page 281. In an earlier MS. version, my lady Emilia continues:
“‘And even if it were so, I do not see how he is on that account set
above the Court Lady.’ The Magnifico Giuliano said: ‘We regard the Lady
as the equal of the Courtier, and according to my lord Ottaviano, the
Courtier is superior to the Prince; therefore the Court Lady comes to be
superior to the Prince.’”
Note 466 page 284. Phœnix appears in the Iliad as appointed by Peleus to
superintend the education of the latter’s son Achilles.
Note 467 page 284. ARISTOTLE was summoned (342 B.C.) to undertake the
education of Alexander, who was then thirteen years old, and whom no one
had thus far been able to control. The philosopher’s training continued
uninterruptedly for four years, included instruction in poetry,
rhetoric, philosophy, physics, and medicine,—and is said to have had
beneficial effect upon the future conqueror’s character.
Note 468 page 285. Stagira lay on the easterly side of the Chalcidic
peninsula. Philip had destroyed it in his Olynthian campaign of 348
B.C., but rebuilt it at Aristotle’s request and caused a gymnasium to be
erected there, in a shady grove, for the use of the philosopher and his
pupils, among whom was Alexander.
Note 469 page 285. Plutarch expressly affirms that Alexander’s policy,
of uniting all the nations under his sway into a single people, was not
founded on Aristotle’s advice, as indeed an examination of the latter’s
political theories would seem to prove.
Note 470 page 285. The Bactrians were an Aryan people dwelling on the
upper Oxus, in what is now Afghanistan. They were conquered in 327 B.C.
by Alexander, who married Roxana, the daughter of one of their princes.
In ancient times the inhabitants of northern and eastern Europe and Asia
were called Scythians.
Note 471 page 285. CALLISTHENES was a cousin and fellow pupil of
Alexander’s. On Aristotle’s recommendation, Alexander took Callisthenes
with him on his Asiatic expedition of 334 B.C., but, exasperated by his
young kinsman’s plain-spoken disapproval of his conduct, had
Callisthenes put to death.
[Illustration:
DON CARLOS
PRINCE OF SPAIN
1500-1558
]
Reduced from Braun’s photograph (no. 43.099) of the portrait, in the
Borghese collection at Rome, attributed to Bernhard Strigel
(1460?-1528).
Note 472 page 285. DIO, (born about 408; died about 354 B.C.), was an
austere Syracusan philosopher who became an ardent disciple of Plato on
the occasion of the latter’s short residence at the court of Dionysius
the Elder, and later induced the younger DIONYSIUS also to invite Plato
to Syracuse, where, however, the philosopher was unable long to check
the tyrant’s profligacy.
Note 473 page 287. Bembo was thirty-six years old at the date of the
Courtier dialogues.
Note 474 page 288. In Book III of Bembo’s _Gli Asolani_ (1505), a hermit
discourses to Lavinello on the beauty of mystical Christian love. Bembo
had a villa called Lavinello, near Padua.
Note 475 page 288. Much of the following disquisition seems to be drawn
from Plato and from Bembo’s _Gli Asolani_. As Bembo is known to have
revised THE COURTIER before publication, we may assume that he was
content with the form and substance of the discourse here attributed to
him.
Note 476 page 294. STESICHORUS was a Greek lyric poet who lived about
630-550 B.C., and was supposed to have been miraculously stricken blind
after writing an attack upon Helen of Troy. His true name is said to
have been Tisias, and to have been changed to Stesichorus because he was
the first to establish a chorus for singing to the harp. Fragments of
his verse have survived.
Note 477 page 294. These ‘five other stars’ are of course the five
planets then known (Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn), in
addition to the Sun and Moon, which were until long afterwards regarded
as planets. “The sun, the moon and the five planets were always to be
found within a region of the sky extending about 8° on each side of the
ecliptic. This strip of the celestial sphere was called the Zodiac,
because the constellations in it were (with one exception) named after
living things (Greek ζῷον, an animal); it was divided into twelve equal
parts, the Signs of the Zodiac, through one of which the sun passed
every month, so that the position of the sun at any time could be
roughly described by stating in what ‘sign’ it was.” Arthur Berry’s
“Short History of Astronomy” (London, 1898), p. 13.
Note 478 page 305. Castiglione here follows that version of the Hercules
myth which represents the hero, tormented by the poisoned shirt sent him
by the jealous Deianeira, as throwing himself upon a burning pyre on
Mount Œta, whence he was caught up to heaven in a cloud.
Note 479 page 305. Compare: Exodus, iii, 2; Acts, ii, 1-4; and II Kings,
ii, 11-2.
Note 480 page 307. This dialogue is by some represented as having
actually taken place in the presence of Raphael.
Note 481 page 308. PLOTINUS was born in Egypt about 204 A.D., and taught
philosophy at Rome. He lived so exclusively the life of speculation that
he seemed ashamed of bodily existence, and concealed his parentage,
birthplace and age.
Note 482 page 308. ST. FRANCIS, (Gianfrancesco Bernardone, 1182-1226),
was born and died at Assisi near Perugia, and was canonized in 1288.
Note 483 page 308. II Corinthians, xii, 2-4.
Note 484 page 308. Acts, vii, 54-60.
Note 485 page 308. St. Luke, vii, 37.
Note 486 page 309. Mount Catria lies less than twenty miles to the
southward of Urbino, between Pergola and Gubbio, and rises a little more
than a mile above the sea level. It is mentioned by Dante in the
_Paradiso_ (xxi, 109).
--------------
The stamp imprinted on the cover of this volume was engraved from an
enlarged outline drawing made by Mr. Kenyon Cox from a photograph of one
of the many examples of Castiglione’s seal preserved in the Royal State
Archives at Mantua.
LIST OF EDITIONS OF THE BOOK OF THE COURTIER
COMPILED FROM THE FOLLOWING SOURCES:
Copy in the Library of the Spanish Academy at Madrid, ace
Copy in the Alessandrina Library at Rome, ala
Copy in the Ambrosiana Library at Milan, amb
Copy in the Angelica Library at Rome, ang
Copy in the National Library at Madrid, bnm
Copy in the National Library at Paris, bnp
Brunet’s _Manuel du Libraire_ (Paris: 1860-65), bnt
Copy in the Braidense Library at Milan, bra
Copy in the British Museum, brm
Brunet’s _Manuel du Libraire, Supplément_ (Paris: 1878), bts
Copy in the Casanatense Library at Rome, cas
Copy in the Cavriani Library at Mantua, cav
Copy in the Chigiana Library at Rome, chi
Copy in the Corsiniana Library at Rome, cor
MS. bibliographical notes by the late Count D’Arco, at Mantua, d’a
Copy examined by the translator in the National Library at Paris, exd
List of editions appended to Fabié’s (1873) edition of Boscan’s fab
Spanish translation,
Copy in the University Library at Jena, jen
List of editions appended to Aristide Joly’s _De Balthassaris jol
Castillionis opere cui titulus “Il Libro del Cortegiano,” etc._
(Caen: 1856),
List of editions appended to Count Mazzuchelli’s Life of maz
Castiglione (Rome: 1879),
Copy in the New York Public Library, nyp
Card Catalogue of the antiquarian bookseller Olschki, at Florence, ols
Copy owned by the translator, opd
Giambattista Passano’s _I Novellieri Italiani_ (Turin: 1878), pas
Article by Reinhardstöttner in _Jahrb. f. Münchner Gesch._ (1888, rei
pp. 494-9),
Copy in the Marciana Library at Venice, stm
Copy in the Vatican Library at Rome, vat
Copy in the Vittorio Emanuele Library at Rome, vel
List of editions appended to Count Carlo Baudi di Vesme’s (1854) ves
edition of THE COURTIER,
LIST OF EDITIONS
THE LANGUAGE IS ITALIAN UNLESS OTHERWISE INDICATED
DATES AND NAMES ENCLOSED IN PARENTHESES ARE NOT FREE FROM DOUBT
1528 Venice Aldine Press: fol.: April: opd
1528 Florence The heirs of Filippo di Giunta: 8vo: October: opd
(1529) Tusculano Alessandro Paganino: 12mo: stm
1529 Florence The heirs of Filippo di Giunta: 8vo: opd
1530 Parma Antonio di Viotti: 8vo: opd
1531 Florence Benedetto Giunti: 8vo: opd
1531 Parma Antonio di Viotti: 8vo: ves
1532 Parma Antonio di Viotti: 8vo: stm
1533 Venice Aldine Press: 8vo: with a few poems by exd
Castiglione:
1534 Barcelona Pedro Monpezat: fol.: Spanish version by Juan fab
Boscan Almogaver:
1537 Florence Benedetto Giunti: 8vo: brm
1537 Paris For Jean Longis and Vincent Sertenas: 8vo: exd
French version by Jacques Colin:
(1537) Lyons Denys de Harsy: 8vo: Colin’s French version: opd
1538 Venice Vettor de’ Rabani and associates: 8vo: stm
1538 Venice Giovanni Padovano for Federico Torresano exd
d’Asola: 8vo:
1538 Venice Curzio Navò and brothers: 8vo: cor
1538 Lyons Françoys Juste: 8vo: Colin’s French version exd
revised by Estienne Dolet:
1539 Venice Curzio Navò for Alvise Tortis: 8vo: stm
1539 s. l. Printer not mentioned: 8vo: abbreviation by maz
Scipio Claudio:
1539 Toledo Printer not mentioned: 4to: Boscan’s Spanish fab
version:
1540 Salamanca Pedro Touans for Guillermo de Milles: 4to: ace
Boscan’s Spanish version:
1540 Paris Printer not mentioned: 8vo: (Colin’s) French ala
version:
1541 Venice Aldine Press: 8vo: opd
1541 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 12mo: stm
(1541) s. l. “T-A”: 4to: Boscan’s Spanish version: fab
1542 Medina Printer not mentioned: 4to: Boscan’s Spanish brm
version:
(1542) s. l. Printer not mentioned: 4to: Boscan’s Spanish bnm
version:
1543 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 8vo: pas
1544 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 8vo: opd
1544 Venice Alvise de Tortis: 8vo: chi
1544 Antwerp Martin Nucio: 8vo: Boscan’s Spanish version: fab
1544 s. l. Printer not mentioned: 8vo: maz
1545 Venice Aldine Press: fol.: opd
1545 Paris Printer not mentioned: 12mo: (Colin’s) French brm
version:
1546 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 8vo: exd
1546 Paris For Arnoul l’Angelier: 12mo: Colin’s French opd
version:
1547 Venice Aldine Press: 8vo: opd
1547 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 8vo: maz
1549 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 12mo: chi
1549 Venice Alvise de Tortis: 8vo: vel
1549 Paris Gelles Corrozet: ——: (Colin’s) French version: bnt
1549 Paris Jean Lor——: 16mo: (Colin’s) French version: vel
1549 s. l. Printer not mentioned: 4to: Boscan’s Spanish ves
version:
1550 Lyons Gulielmo Rovillio: 16mo: opd
1551 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari and brothers: stm
12mo:
1552 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari and brothers: 8vo: exd
text revised by Ludovico Dolce:
1552 Venice Domenico Giglio: 12mo: opd
1553 Lyons Gulielmo Rovillio: 12mo: brm
1553 Saragossa For Miguel de Çapila: 8vo: Boscan’s Spanish fab
version:
1554 Florence The heirs of Bernardo Giunti: 16mo: stm
1556 Venice Girolamo Scoto: 8vo: Dolce’s text: cav
1556 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 8vo: Dolce’s stm
text:
1559 Venice Simbeni for Bernardin Fagiani: 8vo: with Paolo cav
Giovio’s Life of Castiglione:
1559 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 8vo: Dolce’s brm
text:
1559 Toledo Printer not mentioned: 4to: Boscan’s Spanish maz
version:
1560 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 8vo: Dolce’s brm
text:
1561 London William Seres: 4to: English version by Thomas brm
Hoby:
1561 Antwerp The widow of Martin Nutio: 8vo: Boscan’s ala
Spanish version:
1561 Wittenberg Johannes Crato: 4to: Latin version by jen
Hieronymus Turler:
1562 Venice Francesco Rampazzetto: 12mo: cav
1562 Venice Printer not mentioned: 8vo: with Giovio’s opd
Life:
1562 Lyons Gulielmo Rovillio: 12mo: Dolce’s text: opd
1562 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 12mo: ang
1563 Venice Same edition as the last, with change of date maz
on title-page:
1564 Venice Same edition as the last, with change of date stm
on title-page:
1564 s. l. Printer not mentioned: 8vo: edition ves
erroneously dated “MDXLIV”:
1565 Venice Gerolamo Cavalcalovo: 12mo: Dolce’s text: stm
1566 Munich Adam Berg: 8vo: German version by Lorenz vat
Kratzer:
1568 Venice Domenico: 12mo: brm
1569 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 12mo: vel
1569 Wittenberg (Johannes Crato): 8vo: Turler’s Latin version: maz
1569 Valladolid Francisco Fernandez de Cordoba: 8vo: Boscan’s brm
Spanish version expurgated:
1571 London John Day: 8vo: Latin version by Bartholomew brm
Clerke:
1573 Venice Comin da Trino: 8vo: with Giovio’s Life: opd
1574 Venice Gabriel Giolito de’ Ferrari: 8vo: maz
1574 Venice Comin da Trino: 8vo: maz
1574 Venice Domenico Farri: 12mo: Dolce’s text: exd
1574 Antwerp Philippo Nucio: 8vo: Boscan’s Spanish version: exd
1577 Antwerp Philippo Nucio: 8vo: Boscan’s Spanish version: bts
1577 Strasbourg Bernhardus Jobinus: 8vo: Latin version of Book ves
I by Johannes Ritius:
1577 London Henry Bynneman: 8vo: Clerke’s Latin version: exd
1577 London Henry Denham: 4to: Hoby’s English version: brm
(1577) Paris Pierre Gaultier: 16mo: Colin’s French version: opd
1580 Lyons Thibauld Ancelin for Loys Cloquemin: 8vo: stm
French version by Gabriel Chapuis with text:
1581 Salamanca Pedro Lasso: 8vo: Boscan’s Spanish version: ols
1584 Venice Bernardo Basa: 8vo: text expurgated by stm
Ciccarelli, with Life by Marliani:
1584 Frankfort Bernhardus Jobinus: 8vo: Latin version by ala
Johannes Ritius:
1585 London Thomas Dauson: 8vo: Clerke’s Latin version: brm
1585 Lyons Claude Bourcidan for Jean Huguetan: 8vo: vel
Chapuis’ French version with text:
1585 Paris Nicholas Bonfons: 8vo: Chapuis’ French version exd
with text:
1585 Paris Georges l’Oyselet for Cl. Micard: 8vo: exd
Chapuis’ French version:
1587 Venice Curzio Navò and brothers: 8vo: d’a
1587 Venice Domenico Giglio: 12mo: exd
1588 London John Wolfe: 8vo: Hoby’s English version opd
revised, with text and
Chapuis’ French version:
1592 Paris Nicholas Bonfons for Abel l’Angelier: 8vo: exd
Chapuis’ French version
with text:
1593 Venice La Miniana Compagnia: 8vo: Ciccarelli’s stm
expurgation:
1593 London George Bishop: 8vo: Clerke’s Latin version: exd
1593 Dilingen Johann Mayer: 8vo: German version by Johann ang
Engelbert Noyse:
1599 Venice Paulo Ugolini: 16mo: Ciccarelli’s expurgation, ang
with Marliani’s Life:
1599 Antwerp Philippo Nucio: 8vo: Boscan’s Spanish version maz
expurgated:
s. d. s. l. Printer not mentioned: 4to: Boscan’s Spanish bnm
version:
1600 Florence (The heirs of Filippo di Giunta): 4to: d’a
1601 Venice Giovanni Alberti: ——: jol
1603 London T. Creede: 4to: Hoby’s English version: brm
1603 London George Bishop: 8vo: Clerke’s Latin version: brm
1606 Venice Giovanni Alberti: 8vo: ves
1606 Frankfort Lazarus Zetzner: 8vo: Clerke’s Latin version: amb
1612 London Thomas Adams: 8vo: Clerke’s Latin version: brm
1619 Strasbourg Bernhardus Jobinus: 8vo: Ritius’s Latin cas
version:
1619 Strasbourg The heirs of Lazarus Zetzner: 8vo: Clerke’s brm
Latin version:
1663 Strasbourg For Simon Paullus: 8vo: Clerke’s Latin exd
version:
1667 Strasbourg Bernhardus Jobinus: 8vo: Ritius’s Latin maz
version:
1668 Zürich Printer not mentioned: 8vo: Ritius’s Latin maz
version:
1684 Frankfort For Carl Schaeffer: ——: German version by “J. rei
C. L. L. J.”:
1690 Paris Estienne Massot for Estienne Loyson: 12mo: exd
French version by (L’Abbé
Duhamel):
1713 Cambridge William Innys: 8vo: Clerke’s Latin version exd
revised by S. Drake:
1724 London A. Battesworth and others: 8vo: English nyp
version by Robert Samber:
1727 London W. Bowyer: 4to: English version by A. P. opd
Castiglione, with Life
and text:
1729 London E. Curll: 8vo: Samber’s English version: brm
1733 Padua Giuseppe Comino: 4to: Volpi edition, with opd
other works by Castiglione
and Marliani’s Life:
1737 London Olive Payne: identical with edition of 1727, opd
title-page changed:
1742 London H. Slater and others: identical with edition opd
of 1727, title-page
changed:
1766 Padua Giuseppe Comino: 4to: Volpi edition, with Life opd
by Pierantonio Serassi:
1771 Vicenza Giambattista Vendramini Mosca: 8vo: 2 volumes, opd
with Serassi’s Life:
(1772) s. l. Printer not mentioned: 8vo: 2 volumes: d’a
1799 Bassano Remondini: 8vo: 3 volumes, including other d’a
works by Castiglione:
1803 Milan La Tipografia dei Classici Italiani: 8vo: bnp
1822 Milan Giovanni Silvestri: 8vo: with Serassi’s Life: brm
1828 Bergamo Mazzoleni: 12mo: 2 volumes: bra
1831 Milan Niccolò Bettoni and the brothers Ubicini: 4to: amb
1842 Venice Girolamo Tasso: 8vo: 2 volumes, expurgated, opd
with Serassi’s Life:
1844 Parma Fiaccadori: 16mo: expurgated edition: amb
1848 Copenhagen Schultz: 4to: early French version of Book exd
III, edited by N. C. L.
Abrahams:
1854 Florence Felice Lemonnier: 8vo: annotated by Count opd
Carlo Baudi di Vesme:
1873 Madrid Rivadeneyra for Alfonso Durán: 8vo: Boscan’s opd
version annotated by A. M.
Fabié:
1884 Turin Libreria Salesiana: 16mo: vel
1884 Florence P. Metastasio for G. C. Sansoni: 16mo: with opd
preface by Giulio Salvadori:
1889 Florence Gaspare Barbèra: 8vo: expurgated and annotated opd
by Giuseppe Rigutini:
1890 Milan Edoardo Sonzogno: 8vo: with preface by opd
Lodovico Corio:
1892 Florence Same edition as that of 1889, with changed opd
date on title-page:
1894 Florence Carnesecchi for G. C. Sansoni: 8vo: annotated opd
by Vittorio Cian:
1900 London Constable for David Nutt: 8vo: Hoby’s English opd
version edited by Walter Raleigh:
ADDENDUM
1900 London Edward Arnold (Essex House Press): 8vo: Hoby’s opd
English version edited by
Janet E. Ashbee, with woodcut ornaments by C.
R. Ashbee:
INDEX
INDEX
Ability to perform his highest functions, necessary to the courtier,
even if he be not called on, 283
Abrahams, N. C. L., 421
Absurd similes, 129
Accolti, Benedetto, 333
Bernardo,—see Unico Aretino
Pietro, 333
Accomplishments, etc., of the courtier; how to be employed, 81 et seq.;
the proper aim of, 246 et seq.
Achaia, 171, 387
Achilles, 61, 62, 64, 284, 348, 349, 414
Acquapendente, 158, 382
Adams, Thomas, 421
Adrian VI, 317, 413
Adriatic, the, 8
Adulation of princes, 248
Ady, Mrs. Henry, 338, 399
Æneas, 339, 393
Æneid, a quotation from the, 365
Æschines, 51, 54, 344
Æsop, 78, 356, 357
Affectation:
to be avoided, 35, 83;
instances of:
in oratory, 35;
in dancing, 36;
in attire, 36;
in riding, 37;
in boasting, 37;
in music, 37;
in painting, 37;
in speech, 38;
in preferring to practise that in which one does not most excel,
117
“Aforesaid,” story about a Sienese who mistook Aforesaid for a name,
130
Age, the courtier’s functions affected by his, 281, 283-4
Agesilaus, 250, 408
Agilulph, Duke of Turin, 393
Agnello, Antonio, 126, 361-2
Giulio, 362
Agone, the Piazza d’, 249, 407
Aguilar, the Marquess of, 384
Alamanni, 149-50
Albert III, Duke of Bavaria, 374
Alberti, Giovanni, 421
Albizzi, 370
Albret, Charlotte d’, 377
Alcibiades, 57, 89, 356, 402
Aldana, Captain, 152, 379
Aldine Press, 315, 419
Aldus (Teobaldo Manucci), 315, 329, 332, 394, 405
Alessandrina Library at Rome, 417
Alexander the Great, 28, 34, 57, 58, 61, 62, 63, 68, 70, 103, 109, 142,
146, 205, 207, 210, 212, 274, 275, 284, 285, 338, 348, 351, 358,
401, 411, 414
Alexander III, 364
Alexander VI (Roderigo Lenzuoli Borgia), 10, 126, 147, 216, 318, 328,
336, 340, 361, 365, 367, 369, 371, 372, 375, 377, 380, 382, 395,
397, 400
Alexander Jannæus, King of the Jews, 191, 389
Alexandra, Queen of the Jews, 191, 389
Alexandria in Egypt, founded by Alexander the Great, 274, 411
Alexandria, the Bishop of, (Giannantonio di Sangiorgio), 142, 372
Alexandrian Cardinal, the, (Giovanni Antonio di Sangiorgio), 142, 372
Alfonso I of Naples, 146, 153, 156, 375-6
Alfonso II of Naples, 10, 327, 363, 383, 397, 398, 400
Alfonso the Magnanimous,—see Alfonso I of Naples
Alidosi, Francesco,—see Pavia, the Cardinal of Almada, Brazaida de,—see
Castagneta, the Countess of Juan Baez de, 384
Almogaver,—see Boscan
Altamura, the Prince of, 399
Altoviti, 149-50
Alva, the Duke of, 315
“Amadis of Gaul,” 405
Amalasontha, Queen of the Goths, 202, 393
Ambrogini, Angelo,—see Poliziano
Benedetto, 345
Ambros, 359
Ambrosiana Library at Milan, 417
Amiable manners necessary to the courtier, 91
Ancelin, Thibauld, 420
Ancona, absurd duelling of two cousins of, 30
Angelica Library at Rome, 417
Angelier, Abel l’, 421
Arnoul l’, 419
Angoulême, Count Charles d’, 346
Monseigneur d’,—see Francis I of France
Anichino, a character in Boccaccio, 164
Anne of Brittany, Queen of France, 202, 371, 395, 396
Anne of Cleves, Duchess of Orléans, 371
Antæus, 275, 411
Antigonus, King of Macedon, 351
Antiphanes, 364
Antonello da Forli, 147, 376
Antonio di Tommaso, 375
Antonius, Marcus, (the orator), 44, 51, 339
Apelles, 37, 68, 70, 338, 351, 402
Apennines, 8, 43
Aphrodite, 387, 388
Apollo, 356
Apollo Belvedere, 349, 410
Aptitude for fun, requisite in a man who would be amusing, 154
Apulia, use of music in, as a cure for bite of tarantula, 15
Aquila, Serafino dall’,—see Serafino dall’Aquila
Aquino, the Bishop of,—see Mario de’ Maffei
Aragon, Alfonso II of Naples,—see Alfonso II of Naples
Alfonso V of,—see Alfonso I of Naples
Beatrice, Queen of Hungary, 204, 336, 397, 399, 400
Catherine, wife of Henry VIII of England, 412
Eleanora, Duchess of Ferrara, 204-5, 336, 363, 397, 398, 399
Federico III of Naples,—see Federico III of Naples
Ferdinand of,—see Ferdinand the Catholic
Ferdinand I of Naples,—see Ferdinand I of Naples
Ferdinand II of Naples,—see Ferdinand II of Naples
Ferdinand the Just, 375
Ferdinand, Duke of Calabria, 400
Isabella, Duchess of Milan, 204, 327, 381, 398, 400
Joanna, wife-aunt of Ferdinand II of Naples, 327, 397
Juan II, King of Navarre and, 397
Juana, wife of Philip of Austria, 413
Ludovico, Cardinal, 159, 341, 383
Archaisms of speech discussed, 39-54
Archiuzow, an alleged Russian translator of THE COURTIER, 324
Arco, MS. bibliographical notes by the late Count d’, 417
Ares, 411
Aretino, Pietro, 333
Unico, (Bernardo Accolti),—see Unico Aretino
Argentina, madonna, 196
_Arguzie_, 121, 143
Arion, 349
Ariosto, Alfonso, 2, 7, 75, 171, 243, 320
Ludovico, 320, 336, 345
Aristippus of Cyrene, 59, 348
Aristobulus I, King of the Jews, 389
Aristodemus, 264, 409
Aristogeiton, 390
Aristotle, 34, 57, 63, 284-5, 286, 323, 370, 374, 388, 391, 409, 414
Arms, the courtier’s true profession, 25
Arms vs. letters, 60-2
Arnold, Fr., 337
Arrogance of princes, 248-9
Art, enjoyment of beauty in nature increased by a knowledge of, 69
Artemisia, 205, 400-1
Arthur Tudor, son of Henry VII of England, 412
Artifice, discussion on, 118
Artifice in love, deprecated, 165-6
Ascension, Venetian festival of the, 131, 364
Ascham, Roger, 316
Asia, 101, 275
_Asinus Domino Blandiens_, one of Æsop’s fables, 357
Asnapper (Sardanapalus), 206, 401
Aspasia, 197, 390-1
Assurbanipal (Sardanapalus), 206, 401
Atanagi’s _Rime Scelte_, 331
Athena, 387
Athenian dialect:
spoken with excessive care by Theophrastus, 5;
not rigidly adhered to by excellent Greek authors, 47
Athens, 101, 197
feminine constancy commemorated by a statue at, 192
Athos, Mount, 274, 411
Atri, Giacomo d’, (Count Pianella),—see Pianella
Attendolo, Muzio, called Sforza, 381
Attire appropriate to the courtier, 102-4
Augustus, 190, 388, 401
Aurelian, the Emperor, 401
Austria, Margarita of, 202, 395-6
Maximilian of,—see Maximilian I
Philip of, 413
Autharis, King of the Lombards, 393
Ayola, Maria de, 317
Bacon, Francis, afterwards Lord Verulam, 316
Bactria, 285, 414
Bad government, the evils of, 249
Bad master, the courtier to leave the service of a, 99, 285
Baja, 274, 410
Bajazet II of Turkey, 141, 173, 372, 388
Balance and contrast, in art and character, 83
Baldi, Bernardino, 327
Baldness, jests about Bernardo Bibbiena’s, 122, 155
_Ballare_ and _danzare_ compared, 352-3, 382
_Ballatore_, 156, 382
Balzo, Antonia del, 400, 404
Isabella del, Queen of Naples,—see Isabella del Balzo
_Banchi_, a street in Rome, the scene of a trick played upon Bibbiena,
159-60, 383
Bandello, 366
Barbara of Brandenburg, Marchioness of Mantua, 374, 404
Barbarelli, Giorgio,—see Giorgione
Barbarian influence upon Latin, resulting in Italian, 43
Barbary pirates, touching incident following a husband’s rescue from,
195-7
Barbèra, Gaspare, 422
Bari, Roberto da,—see Roberto da Bari
Barletta, 73, 87, 352
Barletta, the tournament at, 351
Barlettani, Lucrezia, 367
Barozzi, Pietro, the (Arch-) Bishop of Padua, 136, 366
Bartolommeo, joke concerning the name, 151
Basa, Bernardo, 420
Basset, a dance performed after the first evening’s discussion, 73, 352
Battesworth, A., 421
Bavaria, Duke Albert III of, 374
Margarita of,—see Margarita of Bavaria
Bayeux, the Bishop of,—see Canossa, Ludovico da
Beatrice, a character in Boccaccio, 164, 165
of Lorraine, 394
Beaufort, Margaret, Countess of Richmond, 413
Beauty:
personal beauty requisite in the courtier, 23;
beauty unadorned, 55;
love defined as “a certain desire to enjoy beauty,” 288;
two ways of enjoying beauty, 289;
beauty, an effluence of divine goodness, 289;
cannot be truly enjoyed by possessing the body in which it is found,
290;
“beauty is good:” true love of beauty works for good, 291;
effect of women’s beauty on their own character, 292-3, 296;
“Do not believe that beauty is not always good,” 293;
beauty, a true sign of inward goodness, 294;
beauty through utility, 294-5;
“the good and the beautiful are in a way one and the same thing,”
295;
bodily beauty derived from beauty of the soul, 295-6;
beautiful women, more chaste than ugly women, 296;
beauty does not spring from the body wherein it shines, 298;
beauty best enjoyed through sight and hearing, 298;
beauty engendered in beauty, 299;
beauty to be enjoyed for itself, and not for the sake of the body
wherein it dwells, 302-3;
the highest enjoyment of beauty is the enjoyment of beauty in the
abstract, apart from bodily form, 303-4
Beazzano, Agostino,—see Bevazzano
Beccadello, Cesare, 160-1, 383
Domenico Maria, 383
Ludovico, 383
_Becco_, a he-goat, 129, 363
Beggar and lady at church, story of, 125
Belcolore (a character in Boccaccio), 127
Bellini, the, 343
Gentile, 341
Giacopo, 341
Giovanni, 341
Niccolosa, 341
Belvedere, a pavilion in the Vatican Gardens, 274
Bembo, Bernardo, 330
Pietro, 12, 18, 60, 61, 104, 106, 121, 130, 244, 255, 259-60, 287,
288-307, 308, 319, 320, 321, 330-1, 332, 333, 334, 336, 340, 342,
343, 345, 348, 358, 359, 362, 363, 364, 367, 368, 369, 374, 379,
380, 383, 403, 407, 415
Bembo’s _Gli Asolani_, 330, 336, 415
Prose, 340
Bentivogli, the, 375
Bentivoglio, Francesca, 314
Laura, 373
Berenson, Bernhard, 343
Berg, Adam, 420
Bergamasque dialect, rude by contrast with others, 41, 338
peasant, story of two great ladies deceived by a, 156-7
Bergamo, 105, 338
Bergamo, Lattanzio da, 376
Bernardone, Gianfrancesco, (St. Francis of Assisi), 416
Bernhardt, Madame Sara, 380
Bernice of Pontus, 389
Beroaldo, Filippo, the elder, 368
Filippo, the younger, 139, 319, 352, 368
Berry, Arthur, “Short History of Astronomy,” 360, 415
Bersine, wife of Alexander the Great, 401
Berto, 26, 128, 336
Bettoni, Niccolò, 421
Bevazzano, Agostino, 144, 374
Francesco, 374
Bias, 263, 408
Bibbiena, Bernardo Dovizi da, 2, 12, 28, 32, 36, 43, 110, 121, 122,
123-65, 166, 167, 170, 230, 234, 237, 238, 244, 276, 279, 321-2,
332, 334, 342, 348, 360, 361, 363, 367, 379, 407, 413
Bibbiena’s _Calandra_, 314, 321, 335, 356, 367
Bible, citations from the, 96, 137, 139, 301, 305, 357, 366, 415, 416
Bibulus, Marcus, 389
Bidon, 50, 340
Biga, Maddalena, a virtuous peasant girl, 403
Biondo, Flavio, 410
Birth, gentle, requisite in the courtier, 22-5
_Bischizzo, bisticcio_, 136, 365
Bishop, George, 421
Blanc, Charles, 327
Blanche, Queen of France, 395
Blasphemy, to be avoided, 143
Blind, story of two gamesters who made their companion believe that he
was, 157-9
Boadilla (or Bobadilla), My lady, (Beatriz Fernandez de Bobadilla,
Marchioness of Moya), 148, 164, 377
Boccaccio, Giovanni, 3, 4, 5, 41, 42, 49, 50, 51, 52, 164, 165, 167,
323, 339
Boccaccio’s _Corbaccio_, 384
Decameron, 127, 161, 384
Bohemia, Ladislas II of, 397
Boisy, Sieur de, 346
Bologna: subdued by Julius II, 12;
mentioned as full of turmoil, 139;
the Archbishop of,—see Pavia, the Cardinal of
Bonaparte, Napoleon, 313
Bonfons, Nicholas, 420, 421
Boniface, Duke of Tuscany, 394
Borgia, Cardinal Francesco, 156, 382
Cesare, (“Duke Valentino”), 147, 313, 318, 325, 328, 329, 331, 341,
343, 376, 377, 378
Giovanni, 377
Juana (or Isabella), 328
Lucrezia, 322, 328, 330, 359, 363, 373, 377, 399
Roderigo Lenzuoli,—see Alexander VI
Boristhenes,—see Dnieper
Borso, Duke,—see Este
Boscan Almogaver, Juan, 315, 320, 338, 377, 419, 420, 421
_Bottone_, play upon the word, 152
Bottone da Cesena, 152, 380
Bourcidan, Claude, 420
Bowyer, W., 421
Box, story of Cato and a rustic who had jostled him with a, 149
Braccesque leave, 167, 384
Bracciano, the Dukes of, 404
Braccio da Montone, 355
Braidense Library at Milan, 417
Bramante, the architect, 321, 335, 342, 381, 383, 410
Brancaleone, Gentile, 325
Brandenburg, Barbara of,—see Barbara of Brandenburg
Branthôme, 368, 379, 395
Brawl, a dance, 87, 356
Brescian, comic story of a, 131
British Museum Library, 316, 417
Brittany, Anne of,—see Anne of Brittany
Duke Francis II of, 395
Brunelleschi, 370
Brunet’s _Manuel du Libraire_, 417
_Manuel du Libraire, Supplément_, 417
Bruno, a character in Boccaccio, 161
Brutus, Marcus Junius, 58, 190, 347, 389
Bruyère, La, 323
Bucentaur, the, 131, 364
Bucephalia in India, founded by Alexander the Great, 274, 411
Buffalmacco, a character in Boccaccio, 161
Building architectural monuments, a duty of princes, 274
Buonarroti, Ludovico (Simoni), 343
Michelangelo,—see Michelangelo
Burgundy, Charles the Bold, 396
Mary of, 395, 396, 413
Philip the Good, Duke of, 387
the order (of the Golden Fleece) at the court of, 173, 387
Burleigh, Lord, (Sir William Cecil), 316
Burney, Dr., 359
Burning Bush of Moses, 305
Burning of the ships by the Trojan women, 197-8
Bynneman, Henry, 420
Cacus, 275, 411
Cæcilia Tanaquil, Caia, 190, 389
Cæsar, Caius Julius, 54, 57, 58, 118, 205, 346, 347, 360, 362, 378,
388, 389, 401
Cæsarion, 401
Caglio, story of the bishopric of, 137
Calabria, Duke Alfonso of, afterwards Alfonso II of Naples, 130, 363
Duke Ferdinand of, (son of Federico III of Naples), 205
Calandrino (a character in Boccaccio), 127, 161, 362
Calfurnio, Giovanni, 138, 366-7
Caligula, the Emperor, 388
Calixtus III., 328
Callisthenes, 285, 414
Calmeta, Collo Vincenzo, 71, 72, 97, 98, 99, 116, 352
_Calunnia_, imputation, 384
Calzini, Egidio, 327
Camma, 194-5
Cammelli, Antonio,—see Pistoia
Campani, Niccolò, da Siena,—see Strascino
Campaspe, 70, 351
Cane, Facino, 355
Canossa, Conrad of, 394
Count Ludovico da, Bishop of Bayeux, 12, 20-72, 121, 138, 176, 202,
233, 236, 237, 244, 279, 292, 293, 297, 329, 332, 342, 346, 360,
361, 394, 407
Çapila, Miguel de, 420
Capitol at Rome, a woman’s effort to secure the surrender of the, 199
Captain of the Church, Duke Guidobaldo made, 10
Capua, story of the sack of, 214
Cara, Marchetto, 50, 340
Carbo, Caius Papirius, 51, 344
Cardinals:
referred to in the prayer for heretics and schismatics, 138;
Raphael’s retort to the two, 149, 377-8
Cardona, Don Giovanni di, 146, 375, 376
Don Pedro di, Count of Gosilano, 375
Don Ugo di, 147, 375, 376
Cards and dice, 108
Carillo, Alonso, 148, 150, 164, 377
Carlos, Don, Prince of Spain, (afterwards Charles V of Spain), 276, and
see Charles V of Spain
Carmenta, another name for Nicostrate, 391
Carnesecchi, G., 422
Carpaccio, 343
Carpentras, the Bishop of,—see Sadoleto, Giacomo
Casanatense Library at Rome, 417
Casanova, Marcantonio, his distiches on “The Spartan Mother Slaying Her
Son,” 393
Castagneta, the Count of, 384
the Countess of, 164, 384
Castel del Rio, the Lord of, 375
Castellina, story about the siege of, 130, 363
Castiglione, Anna, 314
A. P., 421
Count Baldesar, 6, 7, 75, 171, 243, 276, 313-5, 316, 317, 318, 319,
320, 322, 323, 325, 327, 331, 332, 333, 334, 335, 337, 338, 340,
342, 343, 344, 346, 347, 348, 349, 351, 356, 357, 358, 360, 361,
362, 363, 364, 367, 369, 375, 379, 382, 383, 384, 387, 388, 390,
391, 392, 393, 394, 395, 396, 398, 399, 400, 404, 407, 408, 409,
410, 411, 413, 415, 419, 420, 421
his _Tirsi_, 314, 331, 332
Count Camillo, 314, 347
Castiglione, Count Cristoforo, 313
Ippolita, 314
Tealdo, Archbishop of Milan, 313
Castile, 202, 203
Castillo, Andrea, 382
a Spanish name jestingly bestowed upon a Bergamasque cow-herd, 156
Castor, 404
Castriani, Antonio da, Bishop of Cagli, 366
Castro, Violante de, 384
Cataline’s conspiracy, 200, 392
Cato, Marcus Porcius, 44, 146, 339
Cato Uticensis, Marcus Porcius, 149, 181, 190, 378
Catonian severity of countenance assumed hypocritically, 209
Catria, Mount, 309
Cattanei, Tommaso,—see Cervia, the Bishop of
Cattani, Francesco, da Diacceto,—see Diacceto
Catullus, 55, 126, 345, 346
Caucasia, 285
Cavaillon, the Bishop of,—see Mario de’ Maffei
Cavalcalovo, Gerolamo, 420
_Cavalier servente_, 361
Cavriani Library at Mantua, 417
Cecil, Sir William, afterwards Lord Burleigh, 316
Cellini, Benvenuto, 346, 350, 379, 382, 414
Celsus, St., 383
Ceres, 197
Cerignola, humourous incident after the battle of, 147, 376
Cervia, the Bishop of, (Tommaso Cattanei), 153, 382
Cesena, Bottone da,—see Bottone
Ceva, the Marquess Febus di, 71, 114, 351
the Marquess Gerardino di, 71, 351
the Marquess Giovanni di, 351
Chalcondylas, Demetrios, 313, 344, 374
Chancery, the, 159, 383
Chaperon, Jean, 315
Chapman, John Jay, 348
Chapuis, Gabriel, 420, 421
“Characters,” a work by Theophrastus, translated and afterwards
expanded by La Bruyère, 323
Charlemagne, the Emperor, 413
Charles the Bold of Burgundy, 396
Charles V of Spain, 276, 314, 315, 319, 332, 337, 371, 387, 396, 413,
414
Charles VIII of France, 117, 202, 317, 327, 328, 330, 347, 360, 367,
368, 371, 372, 373, 374, 381, 395, 396, 398, 400, 409
Charlotte of Savoy, 395
Chase, the, an appropriate pastime for the courtier, 31
Chastity:
discussions concerning, 162-3, 208-9;
instances of, 211 et seq.
Chaumont, the Grand Master de, 379-80
Cheirocrates, 411
Chess: 108-9;
story of the monkey who played, 133-4
Chigi, Agostino, 383
Chigiana Library at Rome, 417
Chignones, Diego de, 139, 368
Chilon of Sparta, 408
Chios, a story of Philip V’s siege of, 200
Chiote women and their husbands, a story of, 200-1
Chiron, 64, 349
Choice of friends, 105-7
Christian Cicero, the, (Lactantius Firmianus), 392
Chrysoloras, 370
Cian, Vittorio, 334, 335, 349, 353, 367, 369, 373, 377, 378, 379, 380,
382, 383, 422
Ciarla, Magia, 342
Ciccarelli, Antonio, 363, 377, 420, 421
Cicero, Marcus Tullius, 5, 44, 49, 51, 52, 53, 54, 129, 200, 339, 346,
362, 363, 379, 389, 392, 408
Cicero’s _Brutus_, 323
_De Amicitia_, 358
_De Officiis_, 402
_De Oratore_, 324, 344, 408
_De Senectute_, 397
_Pro Archia_, 34
Cicero, the Christian, (Lactantius Firmianus), 392
Ciminelli, Serafino,—see Serafino dall’Aquila
Cimon, 250, 407-8
Circe, 272, 409
Circumspection:
necessary to the courtier, 59;
even more necessary to the court lady, 176
Cithern:
played by Socrates, 63;
Achilles taught by Chiron to play upon the, 64
Civita Vecchia, 274, 410
Claudio, Scipio, 419
Claudius, the Emperor, 388
Clearchus, “tyrant of Pontus,” 264, 409
Clement VII (Giulio de’ Medici), 314, 317, 319, 331, 335, 345, 369, 374
Cleobulus of Rhodes, 408
Cleopatra, 205, 401
Clerke, Bartholomew, 420, 421
Clermont, Isabelle de, Queen of Naples, 327, 397
Cleves, Anne of, 371
Cloquemin, Loys, 420
Cloven Tongues, 305
Clymene, 408
Colin, Jacques, 315-6, 419, 420
Colonna, Caterina, 394
Fabrizio, 319
Francesco, his _Hypnerotomachia Poliphili_, 405
Marcantonio, 140, 371
Pierantonio, 371
Vittoria, Marchioness of Pescara, 1, 319-20, 323, 324, 369, 371, 394
Columbus, Christopher, 396
Comino, Giuseppe, 421
Command, he is always obeyed who knows how to, 265
Commines, 395
Commonwealths, Duke Guidobaldo in the service of the Venetian and
Florentine, 10
Como, the Bishop of, 366
Concealment:
of art, 35;
the courtier need not conceal his good deeds, 84
Conduct, Federico Fregoso propounds rules of, 83
Confession of ignorance, discussed, 116-7
Conquest, princes ought not to aim at, 266
Consalvo de Cordoba, 139, 141, 147, 204, 313, 327, 368-9, 371, 376, 400
Constable, T. and A., printers, 422
Conti, Bernardina, 371
Continence and temperance, contrasted and discussed, 257
Continence of Scipio, the story of the, 207-8
Contrast and balance, in art and character, 82-3
Conversation, to be varied to suit the company, 92
Conversion of the heathen, 275-6
Cooke, Sir Anthony, 316
Cordoba, Consalvo de,—see Consalvo
Francisco Fernandez de,—see Fernandez
Corinna, 197, 391
Corio, Lodovico, 324, 422
Cornelia, 190, 344, 389
Corrozet, Gelles, 419
Corsiniana Library at Rome,
Corvinus, Matthias,—see Matthias Corvinus
Coscia, Andrea, 152, 380
Costume appropriate to the courtier, 102-4
Cotta, Caius Aurelius, 51, 344
Courage requisite in the courtier, 25
Court Lady, the:
beginning of the discussion on, 173;
must be womanly, 175;
her need of beauty, 176;
must be affable, vivacious, witty, not too prudish, 176;
not too familiar, not a scandal-monger, tactful in conversation,
177-8;
not addicted to over-rugged exercises, or too ready to dance or sing,
179;
her dress, 179-80;
must be no less well informed than the courtier, and understand even
those exercises that she does not practise; she must also be
accomplished in literature, music, painting and dancing, 180;
Pallavicino objects to such multiplicity of acquirement, 181-2
COURTIER, THE BOOK OF THE. reasons for writing, 1, 7;
reasons for hasty publication of, 1;
“a picture of the court of Urbino,” 2;
excuse for not writing in the Tuscan dialect, 3-5;
purports to record actual dialogues, 8;
when written, 319
Courtiers’ duty to entice their prince towards virtue, 250-1
Courtiership:
the subject of the book, 7;
beginning of the discussion concerning the perfection of, 19;
beginning of the discussion concerning the proper aims of, 246;
explanation of the word, 325
Crassus, Lucius Licinius, the orator, 44, 49, 51, 339, 344
Marcus Licinius, the triumvir, 347
Crassus Mucianus, Publius Licinius, 101, 358
Crato, Johannes, 420
Creede, T., 421
Crema, Margarita, 362
Cretans, cultivators of music, 64
Crimson velvet, jest about a captain who celebrated his infrequent
victories by wearing, 152
Crivello, Biagino, 153, 381
Crotona, the five beautiful maidens of, 70, 351
Cuña, Don Pedro de,—see Messina, the Prior of
Cuppis (or Coppi) da Montefolco, Bernardo de, 404
Lucrezia de, 404
Curll, E., 421
Curtius Rufus, Quintus, his History of Alexander the Great, 358
Custom, the basis of manners, 7
Cyrene, 348
Cyrus, 201, 393, 400
_Damasco_, play upon the word, 150
Dances: see Basset, Brawl, Morris-dance, _Moresca_, _Roegarze_
Dancing:
affectation in, 36;
how to be practised, 86-7
Dante, 323, 330, 339, 340, 363, 381
Dante’s _Divina Commedia_, 323
_Inferno_, 360
_Paradiso_, 416
_Purgatorio_, 376
_Vita Nuova_, 348
_Danzare_ and _ballare_ compared, 352-3, 382
D’Arco, MS. bibliographical notes by the late Count, at Mantua, 417
Darius III of Persia, 103, 207, 212, 358, 401
Dauson, Thomas, 420
Day, John, 420
Death from excessive joy, an instance of, 195-7
Deceased friends, the author’s eulogy of his, 2-3, 243-4
Deceptions and tricks practised by lovers, 217-8
Defects and foibles, limits to be observed in ridiculing, 128
Defender of the Faith, origin of the title, 412
Deianeira, 415
Demarata, 390
Demetrius I of Macedon, 69, 351, 392
Demetrius II of Macedon, 200, 392
Democritus, 124, 337, 361
Demosthenes, 344
Denham, Henry, 420
Dennistoun, James, 317, 322, 334
Dennistoun’s “Memoirs of the Dukes of Urbino,” 335, 337, 377, 397
Derketo, a Syrian goddess, 401
Deserve, the best way to win princes’ favour is to deserve it, 96
Devices (_imprese_), 12, 330
Diacceto, Francesco Cattani da, 51, 345-6
Diacceto’s _Tre Libri d’Amore_, 346
Diana, 194
Digressions from the main subject of the work:
on literary style, 38-54;
on pleasantries and witticism, 120-162;
on the attributes of the perfect court lady, 175-228;
on Platonic love, 288-307
Dinocrates, 411
Dio of Syracuse, 285, 414-5
Diocletian, the Emperor, 404
Diogenes Laertius, 348
Diomed, 275, 411
Dionysius the Elder of Syracuse, 348, 415
Dionysius the Younger of Syracuse, 285, 415
Diotima, 197, 308, 391
Disguises, fancy dress, etc., 87-8
Disparagement, to be avoided, 115-6
Divorce, impliedly favoured, 224
Djem Othman, 141, 371-2
Dnieper, comic story of words frozen in crossing the, 132-3
Dolce, Ludovico, 420
Dolet, Estienne, 419
Domenico, a printer at Venice, 420
Donatello, 341
Donato, Geronimo, 136, 365-6
Don Carlos, Prince of Spain, (afterwards Charles V of Spain), 276, and
see Charles V of Spain
Donkey, story of peasant who had lost his, 128-9
_Double entente_, instances of allowable, 125
Doves, story of a tiresome fellow and his, 148
Dovizi, Bernardo,—see Bibbiena Pietro, 321
Drake, S., 421
Drawing, a necessary accomplishment for the courtier, 65
Dreams, Alfonso I’s jesting advice to a servant regarding, 153
Dress:
the courtier’s, 102-4;
an index of character, 103-5;
the court lady’s, 179-80
Ducats:
as a laudatory simile, 140-1;
story of the prior who had borrowed ten thousand, 150-1
Duchess of Urbino, the,—see Gonzaga, Eleanora and Elisabetta
Duel:
the courtier to know how to conduct a, 30;
story about a, 152
_Due torti_, play upon the words, 151
Duhamel, l’Abbé, 421
“Duke Borso,”—see Este, Borso d’, Duke of Ferrara
“Duke Federico,”—see Montefeltro, Federico di, Duke of Urbino
“Duke Filippo,”—see Visconti, Filippo Maria
“Duke Valentino,”—see Borgia, Cesare
Durán, Alfonso, 421
Dürer, Albert, 342, 343
Earth, story about disposing of earth from an excavation, 129-30
Edward III of England, 387
Edward IV of England, 413
Edward VII of England, 380
Egano, a character in Boccaccio, 164, 165
Egnatius, a character in Catullus, 55, 346
Egypt, the pyramids of, said to have been built in order to keep the
Egyptians busy, 267
Eleanora of Portugal, 396
Elias, 305
Elis in Achaia, 171, 387
Elizabeth of England, 316, 329
Elizabeth of Portugal, 387
Elizabeth of York, 412, 413
Elmo, St., 147, 376
Elocution, the essentials of, 4
Emanuel I of Portugal, 133, 364
Emilia Pia,—see Pia
Empedocles, 337
Employment of the courtier’s qualities, etc., beginning of Federico
Fregoso’s discourse upon, 80
England, the author’s absence in, 8, 276, 325
Ennius, Quintus, 44, 49, 148, 339
Envy, the courtier to avoid arousing, 82
Epaminondas, 64, 250, 349, 408
Ephesus, 68
Epicharis, 192, 390
Epimetheus, 252, 408
Equicola, Mario, 398
Equipment of the cavalier, the necessity for proper, 85
Erasmus, 348, 357, 367
Erasmus, St., 376
Eris, the goddess of discord, 387
Errea, Elvira, 368
Erythræans, the, 200, 393
Este, Alfonso d’, Duke of Ferrara, 322, 330, 363, 399, 400
Beatrice d’, Duchess of Milan, 204, 333, 336, 338, 352, 363, 381,
394, 398, 399
Bianca Maria d’, 394
Borso d’, Duke of Ferrara, 77, 355, 363, 384
Ercole d’, Duke of Ferrara, 129, 330, 336, 363, 398, 399
Ginevra d’, 394
Ippolito d’, Cardinal, 22-3, 329, 336, 363
Isabella d’, Marchioness of Mantua, 204, 332, 333, 334, 338, 341,
343, 352, 363, 381, 394, 398-9, 409, 413
Niccolò d’, Duke of Ferrara, 355, 363, 384
Este family, eulogy of the women of the, 202
Ettore Romano Giovenale, 71, 351-2
Europe and Asia, united by Alexander the Great, 275
Eurydice, 384
Evander, 44, 197, 339, 391
Evil:
the correlative and necessary accompaniment of good, 78;
ignorance is the root of, 254-6
Exalted station attained by several members of the court of Urbino, 244
Exercises:
those proper for the courtier, 29-31;
those inappropriate for the courtier, 31
Eye, story of the quack and the peasant who had lost an, 150
Fabié, Antonio Maria, 320, 367, 377, 383, 417, 421
Fabius Pictor, Quintus, 65, 349
Fagiani, Bernardin, 420
Falsehood, the origin of princes’ errours, 248
Fancy dress and masks, 87-8
Farri, Domenico, 420
Fasanini, Landomia, 383
Favorinus, 357
Favours, not in general to be sought by the courtier, 94-6
Federico III of Naples, 205, 358, 383, 397, 399, 400
Fedra (Tommaso Inghirami), 138, 367, 375
Feltre, Vittorino da,—see Vittorino da Feltre
Ferdinand I of Naples, 327, 363, 383, 397, 400
Ferdinand II of Naples, 10, 35, 118, 141, 204, 327-8, 368, 397, 400
Ferdinand the Catholic:
referred to as “the king,” 148, 164;
mentioned, 202, 203, 219, 313, 327, 359, 368, 371, 377, 396, 397,
400, 412, 413
Ferdinand the Just, King of Aragon and Sicily, 375
Fernandez de Cordoba, Francesco, 420
Ferrara, the Dukes of,—see Este
Fetti, Fra Mariano,—see Fra Mariano Fetti
Fiaccadori, 421
Ficino, 345
_Fierezza_, boldness, 83, 356
Fiery Chariot of Elias, 305
Fig-tree, story about a man who begged a branch from his neighbour’s,
149
Filiberta of Savoy, 320, 346
Filiberto, Duke of Savoy, 396
Filippello’s wife, a character in Boccaccio, 164, 165, 166
Filippo, Duke,—see Visconti, Filippo Maria
Finger-rings, story of Alfonso I’s, 146
Firmianus, Lactantius, “the Christian Cicero,” 392
First impression:
amusing story illustrating the importance of, 111-2;
the courtier to try to make a good, 113
Five nuns and the friar, story of the, 136-7
Flogged, story of man condemned to be, 129
Florence, 39, 43, 44, 140, 151
Florence, the Archbishop of, (Roberto Folco), 142, 372
Florentine Council, humourous sally made in the, 149-50
Florentine territory, story of a soldier who had fled from, 147
Florentines, wont to wear the hood, 104
Florido, Orazio, 71, 352
Foglietta, Agostino, 145, 374-5
Foglino, Scarmiglione da, 377
Foix, Gaston de, 379
Folco, Roberto, Archbishop of Florence, 142, 372
Forden, Katherine, 316
Foreign phrases, instances of allowable use of, 46
Forged document of renunciation, story of a, 151
Forli, Antonello da,—see Antonello da Forli
Fornovo, the battle of, 360
Fortebracci, Braccio, 384
Fra Mariano Fetti, 16, 122, 162, 335
France, 31, 57, 97, 114
Francia, Francesco Raibolini, better known as, 332
Franciotti, Gianfrancesco, 361
Francis I of France, 56-7, 275, 315, 320, 322, 330, 332, 337, 341, 346,
347, 371, 376, 387, 405, 412, 413
Francis II, Duke of Brittany, 395
Francis, St., 308, 416
Fra Serafino, 16, 37, 108, 162, 335
Frederick Barbarossa, 360, 364
Frederick III, Emperor of Germany, 396
Fregosa, Costanza, 14, 54, 73, 334
Fregoso, Agostino, 322
Costanza,—see Fregosa
Federico, 12, 19, 39, 40, 49, 50, 52, 53, 54, 72, 80, 81, 83, 86, 88,
90, 91, 93, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 102, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108,
109, 110, 113, 114, 117, 118, 120, 121, 122, 155, 169, 170, 172,
173, 221, 222, 223, 224, 234, 244, 294, 321, 330, 331, 334, 340,
346, 367, 407
Ottaviano, 2, 12, 17, 18, 163, 167, 168, 174, 218, 240, 241, 242,
244, 245-87, 322, 330, 334, 376, 407, 409, 414
French fashion of dress:
affected by some, 102;
tends to over amplitude, 103
Frenchmen:
martial exercises excelled in by, 30-1;
said to disprize letters, 56;
whether or not they are presumptuous, 97;
their freedom of manner, 115
Friar and the five nuns, story of the, 136-7
Friars, hypocrisy of the, 188-9
Friends:
choice of, 105-7;
peril of too blind confidence in, 106;
reciprocal duties of, 107
Frigio, Niccolò,—see Frisio
Frisio (or Frigio), Niccolò, 12, 169, 172, 174, 188, 191, 192, 194,
195, 197, 205, 216, 279, 334, 402
Frosinone, the battle of, 379
Frozen words, story about, 132-3
Gæa, 411
Galatea, 388
Galba, Sergius Sulpicius, 44, 51, 340, 344
Galeotto, Giantommaso, 138, 367
Galeotto Marzi da Narni, 136, 365, 367
Galpino, a servant of “My lord Magnifico,” 144
Gama, Vasco da, 364
Gambara, Veronica, 395
Gambling, 108
Games proposed by various members of the court, 13-9
Gaming, 108
Garigliano, the battle of, 313
Garter, the order of the, 173, 313, 387
Garzia, Diego, 141, 371
Garzoni’s _L’Hospidale de Pazzi Incurabili_, 373
Gaspar, my lord,—see Pallavicino
Gaultier, Pierre, 420
Gazuolo, story of a peasant girl of, 214
General repute, illustrations of the influence of, 113
Generosity, a duty of princes, 273-4
Generous, all givers are not, 276-7
Genoa, the Doge of,—see Fregoso, Ottaviano
Genoese Riviera, wine from the, 113
Genoese spendthrift, retort made by a, 139
Gentle birth, requisite in the courtier, 22-5
George, St., 404
German fashion of dress:
affected by some, 102;
tends to over scantiness, 103
German student at Rome, story of a, 139
German women of Roman times, heroism of, 201
Geryon, 275, 411
Ghirlandajo, 343
Giancristoforo Romano, 12, 66, 135, 333, 404
Gianluca da Pontremolo, 151
Giglio, Domenico, 420, 421
Giolito de’ Ferrari, Gabriel, 419, 420
Giorgio da Castelfranco,—see Giorgione
Giorgione, 50, 313, 343-4, 350, 369
Giovenale, Ettore Romano, 71, 351-2
Latino, de’ Manetti, 151, 379
Giovio, Paolo, 330, 369, 420
Giulia, a virtuous peasant girl, 403
Giulio Romano, 314
Giunta, the heirs of Filippo di, 320, 419, 421
Giunti, Benedetto, 419
Giunti, the heirs of Bernardo, 420
Glutton, rebuke administered by the Marquess Federico to a, 145
Goethe’s “Travels in Italy,” 334-5
Golden Fleece, the order of the, 173, 387
Gonnella, a buffoon, 162, 384
Gonnella, Bernardo, his father, 384
Gonzaga, Alessandro, 142, 143, 373
Barbara, Duchess of Würtemberg, 394, 404
Cecilia, 394
Cesare, 12, 14, 21, 28, 32, 37, 69, 70, 86, 96, 104, 128, 131, 134,
174, 179, 208, 210, 213, 215, 216, 218, 231, 235, 236, 237, 243,
245, 257, 269, 273, 296, 307, 309, 331-2, 402, 403, 407
Eleanora, Duchess of Urbino, 244, 318, 407
Elisabetta, Duchess of Urbino, 2, 11-2, 13, 16, 20, 32, 43, 71, 73,
80, 104, 112, 156, 163, 167, 169, 170, 172, 174, 175, 216, 221,
228, 236, 241, 242, 245, 265, 269, 273, 280, 287, 288, 292, 297,
307, 309, 314, 317, 318, 322-3, 329, 334, 335, 341, 352, 380, 388,
394, 398, 404, 405, 407, 409
Federico, Marquess of Mantua, 145, 148, 279, 322, 340, 373, 409
Federico, Marquess and afterwards Duke of Mantua, 279, 343, 362, 373,
374, 379, 413-4
Francesco,—see Gianfrancesco
Giampietro, 331
Gianfrancesco, Marquess of Mantua, 274, 313, 317, 318, 341, 352, 360,
372, 373, 374, 381, 383, 398, 407, 409-10, 413
Gianfrancesco, uncle to “My lady Duchess,” 404
Giovanni, 142, 373
Ludovico, Bishop of Mantua, 215, 403-4
Ludovico, Marquess of Mantua, 374, 404
Luigi, 331
Luigia, 313
Maddalena, 380
Margarita, 73, 192, 352
Gonzaga family, eulogy of the women of the, 202
Good, the correlative and necessary accompaniment of evil, 78
Good government, three forms of, 260
Gosilano, the Count of, (Don Pedro di Cardona), 375
Goths, the time when Italy was ruled by the, 202
_Governo misto_, 261, 269-70, 409
Gracchi, the, 344, 389
Gracchus, Caius Sempronius, 51, 344
Grace:
cannot be learned, but may be cultivated, 34;
lies chiefly in the avoidance of affectation, 35
Grace requisite in the courtier, 23
Granada, the conquest of, 203, 219-20
Grand Turk, the,—see Bajazet II
Graphic narrative, 127
Gravity of visage, the effect of pleasantry heightened by, 154
Great Captain, the,—see Consalvo de Cordoba
Greece, 65, 192, 219
Greek:
Hannibal said to have written in, 58;
the courtier to be conversant with, 59;
Castiglione prefers that his son should devote less attention to
Latin than to, 347
Greek dialects, discussion of, 47
Gregory, St., 393
Grove’s Dictionary of Music, 359
Guicciardini, 409
Hadrian’s mausoleum, afterwards the Castle of St. Angelo, 367
Handmaidens, the Festival of the, 199-200, 392
Hands, the beauty of, 55
Hanging, the method by which a Spanish cavalier hoped to escape, 148-9
Hannibal, 58, 201, 274, 347, 376, 392, 408
Harmodius, 390
Harmonia, 191, 389-90
Harsy, Denys de, 419
Hasdrubal, 191, 389
Helen of Troy, 351, 387, 415
Henry, Prince of Wales,—see Henry VIII of England
Henry IV of England, 413
Henry V of England, 412-3
Henry VII of England, 313, 327, 412-3
Henry VIII of England, 276, 332, 348, 371, 412
Hera, 387
Heraclea, 390
Hercules, 171, 275, 305, 408, 411, 412
Hermes, 339, 391
Hermit, Lavinello’s, a character in Bembo’s _Gli Asolani_, 288, 415
Hernand, Pietro, 368
Hernand y Aguilar, Gonzalvo,—see Consalvo de Cordoba
Herodotus, 400
Herrick, Robert, 338
Hesiod, 49
Hiero of Syracuse, 191, 389-90
High standard, to be aimed at, even if a higher cannot be attained, 116
Hipparchus, 390
History, the courtier to be versed in, 59
Hobbie, Sir Thomas, 316
Hoby, Thomas, 316, 420, 421, 422
William, 316
Hohenstauffen rulers of Naples, 375
Homer, 41, 44, 49, 53, 57, 61, 62, 284, 315, 348, 391
Honesty and uprightness, requisite in the courtier, 56
Honour of women, discussion as to the regard to be shown to the, 162
Horace, 44, 340
Horse afraid of weapons, story about a, 138
Horse-breeding, 274
Horsemanship, the courtier to be an adept in, 30
Hortensius Hortalus, Quintus, 44, 339
Huguetan, Jean, 420
Humanities, the courtier to be versed in the, 59
Humour, beginning of the discussion on, 120
Hunchbacks, story of two, 151
Hungary, “the other queen of,”—see Aragon, Beatrice
Hunyadi, János, of Hungary, 397
Husbands and wives, ill treatment between, 193
_Hypnerotomachia Poliphili_, 405
Iapetus, 408
Icarus, 342
Ignorance:
as to confessing, 116-7;
one of the gravest faults of princes, 247;
the root of evil, 254-6
Iliad, the, kept by Alexander the Great at his bedside, 57
Imitation, in literary style: 41;
more necessary for the moderns than for the ancients, 49
_Imprese_ (devices), 12, 330
Improbabilities, to be avoided in conversation, 119
Incongruity, the source of laughter, 124
Incontinence in men, no more excusable than unchastity in women, 206
India, 285
Inghirami, Paolo, 367
Tommaso, (“Fedra”), 138, 367, 375
Innocent VIII, 341, 371, 372
Innuendo, instances of witty, 145-7
Innys, William, 421
Ippolito d’Este,—see Este
Isabella del Balzo, Queen of Naples, 205, 397, 399-400
Isabella the Catholic:
referred to as “the queen,” 150;
mentioned, 156, 202-4, 219, 377, 378, 384, 396-7, 412, 413
Isaia di Pippo of Pisa, 333
Ischia, the island of, 319
Ismail Sufi I of Persia, 173, 387-8
Isocrates, 51, 344, 409
Isola Ferma, 222, 405
Italian language, derived from the Latin, 43
Italians:
martial exercises in which they excelled, 30;
military decadence of, 58-9, 347;
lamentable lack of any style of dress peculiar to, 103;
become a prey to other nations, 103, 347
Italy, 5, 8, 9, 12, 13, 40, 43, 44, 46, 103, 114, 171, 198, 202, 274,
347
James I of England, 413
James IV of Scotland, 413
Janus, 407
Japan, THE COURTIER said to have been carried to, 324
J. C. L. L. J., an anonymous German translator of THE COURTIER, 316,
421
Jem,—see Djem
Jena University Library, 417
Jerome, St.,—see St. Jerome
Jobinus, Bernhardus, 420, 421
Johannes Hyrcanus, King of the Jews, 389
John III of Portugal, 317
John, King of Hungary, 397
Joly, Aristide, (_De Balthassaris Castillionis opere_, etc.), 417
Jousting, deemed by Djem too serious for sport, 141
Jove, 184, 252, 388
Jovinianus, St. Jerome’s first tract against, 388
Juan, Infant of Castile, 396
Juan II of Castile, 396
Juan II of Navarre and Aragon, 397
Judgment Day, story of lady who dreaded to appear nude on the, 132
Julius II (Giuliano della Rovere), 10, 12-3, 137, 138, 151, 153, 274,
313, 314, 318, 319, 321, 325, 328-9, 330, 332, 334, 335, 336, 342,
343, 361, 365, 366, 371, 372, 375, 377, 378, 380, 382, 383, 400,
404, 410, 413
Juno, 199
Jupiter Feretrius, 325
Juste, Françoys, 419
Justice, the good prince’s first care, 270
Justinian, the Emperor, 393
“King Louis,”—see Louis XII
“King of France, The,” a phrase signifying the acme of royal power, 272
Kiss, the origin and meaning of the, 300-1
Knowledge, the essential prerequisite of literary style, 45
Kratzer, Lorenz, 316, 420
Lacedemonians, cultivators of music, 64
Ladislas II of Bohemia, 397
Lady at church and the beggar, story of the, 125
Lælius, Caius (Sapiens), 51, 106, 344, 358
Laïs, 402
Landi, Agostino, 334
Caterina, 334
Count Marcantonio, 334
Landriano, Gerardo, Bishop of Como, 366
Language, in what consists the excellence of, 53
Languages, the courtier ought to know many, 115
Laocoön, the, 349
Lapi, Checca, 384
Lascaris, Constantine, 330, 397
Lasso, Pedro, 420
Latin:
the source of Italian, 43;
the courtier to be conversant with, 59;
Castiglione prefers that his son should devote more attention to
Greek than to, 347
Latinistic forms of several Italian words advocated, 48, 54, 340
Latino Giovenale de’ Manetti, 151, 379
Lat_r_in tongue, 136
Lattanzio da Bergamo, 376
Laughter:
peculiar to man, 123;
incongruity affirmed to be its source, 124
Laura, 220, 404-5
Laure de Noves, 405
Lavinello, 415
Lavinello’s Hermit, a character in Bembo’s _Gli Asolani_, 288, 415
Law, princes’ need to show respect for, 271
Leæna, 192, 390
Leaping, an accomplishment proper for the courtier, 31
Leghorn, 196
Lei, Bernardino, Bishop of Cagli, 366
Lemonnier, Felice, 421
Lenzuoli, Giuffredo (or Alfonso), 328
Roderigo,—see Alexander VI
Leo X (“My lord Cardinal”), 152, 313, 314, 317, 319, 320, 321, 322,
329, 331, 332, 333, 335, 336, 337, 340, 341, 342, 345, 352, 361,
362, 364, 365, 368, 369, 370, 373, 374, 380-1, 382, 411, 413
Leonardo da Vinci, 50, 336, 337, 341, 346, 350, 366, 381
his _Codex Atlanticus_, 360
his “Treatise on Painting,” 350
Leonico Tomeo, Niccolò, 145, 374
Letters:
the true ornament of the mind, 56;
disprized by the French at the beginning of the 16th century, 56;
but esteemed by the youthful Francis (I), 56-7;
and by captains of ancient times, 57-8;
the true conservator of glory, 58;
letters vs. arms, discussed, 60-2
Leuconia, 200, 393
Liberty, 259-61
Library of the Palace of Urbino, 9, 331
Library of the Spanish Academy at Madrid, 417
Libreria Salesiana, 421
Literary piracy:
hasty publication of THE COURTIER arose from dread of, 1;
frequency of, 320
Literary style, discussion of, 3-5, 38-54
Literary usage:
how determined, 48;
subject to change, 48-9
Livy (Titus Livius), 47, 326, 340, 358, 375, 391
Lombard, the author admits writing as a, 5
Lombards:
addicted to the use of foreign words, 38;
fond of fantastic dress, 104
Lombardy: 104;
eulogy of noble ladies of, 204
Longinus, the lance of, 372
Longis, Jean, 419
Lor—, Jean, 419
Loreto, Our Lady of, 158, 382
Lorraine, Beatrice of, 394
Louis, St., 395
Louis IX of France, 395
Louis XI of France, 387, 395
Louis XII of France, 141, 202, 313, 318, 330, 332, 337, 341, 346, 359,
371, 376, 381, 395, 396, 400, 409
Louise of Savoy, 346
Love:
the course to be pursued by women (married and unmarried) in love,
223-40;
how men are to win women’s love, 229-30;
how men are to declare their love, 231-2;
openness in love, 233-4;
how love is retained, 234-6;
rivalry in love, 234-6;
secrecy in love, 237-40;
whether love be seemly in an old courtier, 286-7;
beginning of Bembo’s discourse on Platonic love, 288;
love defined as “a certain desire to enjoy beauty,” 288;
defects of carnal love, 290;
maturity less prone to carnal love, than youth, 291;
true love of beauty is beneficent, 291;
sensual love in a measure excusable in the young, 292;
sensual love not excusable in those of mature years, 292, 297;
spiritual love, 304-5;
Bembo’s invocation to divine love, 305-7;
instances in which the mysteries of divine love have been revealed to
women, 308
Love talk, the course to be pursued by women in, 221-3
Loyalty requisite in the courtier, 25
Loyson, Estienne, 421
Lucca, Proto da,—see Proto da Lucca
Lucca, story of the sables and the merchant of, 132-3
Lucian, 357
Luciani, Sebastiano, “del Piombo,” 335
Luciano of Laurana, architect of the Palace of Urbino, 410
Lucullus, Lucius Licinius, 58, 205, 250, 347, 408
Luther, 313, 330, 333
Luzio, Alessandro, 399
Luzio and Renier’s _Mantova e Urbino_, 410
Lycurgus, 64, 349
Lyons, a practical joke played by Bibbiena on the bridge at, 160-1
Lysias, 51, 344
Lysis the Pythagorean, 250, 408
Machiavelli, Niccolò, 316, 328, 385, 409
Machiavelli’s “Art of War,” 376
_Discorsi_, 356
_Principe_, 347, 377
_Storia Fiorentina_, 378
Maffei, Mario de’, da Volterra,—see Mario de’ Maffei
Maggi, Graziosa, 332
Magnificence, a duty of princes, 273-4
Mahaffy, J. P., 359
Mahomet, 275
Mahomet II of Turkey, 371, 372
Mamurius Veturius, 339
Man, the laughing animal, 123
Manetti, Latino Giovenale de’,—see Latino Giovenale
Manlius Torquatus, Titus, 100, 357
Manner and time of employing the courtier’s accomplishments, 81 et seq.
Manners, excessive freedom of, to be avoided, 114
Manrique, Don Garci Fernandez, 384
Mantegna, Andrea, 50, 341-2, 360, 372, 395, 409
a son of Andrea, 395
Mantua, the Bishop of,—see Gonzaga, Ludovico
the Marquesses of,—see Gonzaga
Manucci, Teobaldo,—see Aldus
Manutius, Aldus,—see Aldus
_Marano_, a heretic, a renegade Moor, 139, 369
Marcantonio, Master, 152, 380
Marcella, Elena, 330
Marcello, Silvestro, 319
Marciana Library at Venice, 417
Marcus Antonius, (the orator), 44, 51, 339
Margarita of Austria, 202, 395-6
Margarita of Bavaria, Marchioness of Mantua, 322, 373, 374, 409
Mariano Fetti, Fra,—see Fra Mariano Fetti
Mario de’ Maffei da Volterra, 144, 374
Marius, Caius, 201, 393
Mark Antony, 190, 347, 388
Markets, the New and Old, at Florence, 145
Marliani’s Life of Castiglione, 420, 421
Marriage, the right time for, 268-9
Mars Gradivus, 339
Martin V, 319, 325
Mary of Burgundy, 395, 396, 413
Mary Magdalen, St., 308
Mary Tudor, wife of Louis XII of France, 371
Marzi, Galeotto, da Narni,—see Galeotto
Masks and fancy dress, 87-8
Mass, jest about speed in saying, 152-3
Mass-book, story of the, 137-8
Massilia, custom of providing means of self-destruction at, 192, 390
Massimo, Roberto, da Bari,—see Roberto da Bari
Massot, Estienne, 421
Master Serafino, 150
Matilda, the Countess, 202, 393-4
Matthias Corvinus of Hungary, 204, 336, 365, 397-8, 399
Mausolus, King of Caria, 401
Maximilian I, Emperor of Germany, 143, 202, 359, 367, 371, 387, 395,
396, 397, 400, 413
Mayer, Johann, 421
Mazzoleni, 421
Mazzuchelli, Count Giammaria, Life of Castiglione, 417
Medici, Caterina de’, 346
Cosimo de’, _Pater Patriæ_, 140, 151, 345, 362, 370, 376, 378, 381
Giovanni de’, (Cosimo’s father), 370
Giovanni de’, "_delle Bande Nere_," 337
Giovanni de’, "My lord Cardinal,"—see Leo X
Giuliano de’, (brother of Lorenzo the Magnificent), 345, 378
Giuliano de’, “My lord Magnifico,” 2, 12, 37, 42, 56, 64, 71, 89-90,
102, 132, 142, 144, 168, 169, 170, 172, 174-238, 244, 256, 276,
280, 281, 308, 320-1, 331, 339, 341, 342, 343, 346, 349, 380, 390,
407, 414
Giulio de’,—see Clement VII
Grasso de’, 62, 348
Ippolito de’, 320, 329
Lorenzo de’, Duke of Urbino, 319, 321, 330, 352
Lorenzo de’, the Magnificent, 51, 145, 320, 321, 335, 343, 345, 359,
378, 380
Pietro de’, 345
Meliolo, Bartolommeo, 384
Ludovico, 162, 384
Men and women, beginning of the discussion on the comparative
excellence of, 182
Menerola, Teodora, 328
Mercury, 252
Merula, Giorgio, 313
Messina, the Prior of, (Don Pedro de Cuña), 150-1, 378
Metastasio, P., 421
Metrodorus, 69, 351
Micard, Cl., 420
Michael, apparently a tutor to Castiglione’s son, 347
Michelangelo Buonarroti, 2, 50, 67, 313, 320, 321, 328, 329, 343, 350,
410
Michelet on Louis XII of France, 371
Milan, 153
the Dukes of,—see Sforza and Visconti
Miletus, the Bishop of,—see Pavia, the Cardinal of
Milles, Guillermo de, 419
Miltiades, 408
Mime,—see _Moresca_
Mimicry, the limits to be observed in, 127-8
Minerva, 89, 252
Miniana Compagnia, la, 421
Minutoli, Riciardo, a character in Boccaccio, 164, 165, 166
Miser:
retort of a spendthrift to a, 139;
story of a servant who had saved the life of his miserly master,
144-5
Mithridates VI, Eupator, King of Pontus, 191, 389
Mixed government, 261, 269-70
Moderate fortunes, less power possessed by the very rich than by men
of, 271
Moderation, the essence of virtue, 277-8
Modesty requisite in the courtier, 26
Molart, Captain, 152, 379
Monarchy vs. democracy, 259-61
Monima of Pontus, 389
Monkey, story of chess played by a, 133-4
Monpezat, Pedro, 419
Montaigne:
quotation from his _Essais_, 347;
the village of Paglia mentioned in his diary, 382
Monte, Pietro, 12, 34, 92, 174, 333-4
Pietro dal, 334
Montechiarugolo, Count Guido Torello di, 314
Montefeltro, Agnese di, 319
Antonio di, 329
Aura di, 376
Battista di, 394
Brigida Sueva di, 394
Count of, (in 1154), 325
Federico di, Duke of Urbino, 9, 129, 156, 265, 274, 317, 325-6, 327,
356, 362, 376, 381, 410
Gentile di, 322
Giovanna di, 318
Guidantonio di, Duke of Urbino, 325
Guidobaldo di, Duke of Urbino, 1, 9-11, 80, 129, 138, 147, 152, 313,
317-8, 319, 321, 322, 326, 327, 328, 329, 330, 331, 342, 343, 344,
352, 376, 377, 387, 394, 404, 410
Oddantonio di, Count of Urbino, 325
Violante di, 394
origin of the name, 325
Montefeltro family, eulogy of the women of the, 202, 394
Montefiore Inn, synonymous expression for a bad inn, 155, 382
Montone, Braccio da, 355
Moors:
story of a Pisan merchant captured and rescued from the, 195-7;
to be conquered for their souls’ good, 275
Morello, Sigismondo, da Ortona, 12, 46, 83, 90, 91, 92, 292, 293, 294,
296, 299, 332
_Moresca_, mime, morris-dance, 15, 81, 87, 335
_Morgante Maggiore_, a poem by Luigi Pulci, 365
Morosina, 331
Morris-dance,—see _Moresca_
Mosca, Giambattista Vendramini, 421
Moses, 305
Mount Athos, 274, 411
Mount Catria, 309, 416
Mount Œta, 305, 415
Moya, the Marchioness of,—see Boadilla
Munchausen, 364
Muscovy, the Duke of, 132
Music:
affectation in, 37;
the variety of, 50;
the courtier to have skill in, 62;
praise of, 62-5;
to be regarded by the courtier as a pastime, 88;
certain kinds recommended, 88-9;
certain kinds to be avoided, 89;
musical performance forbidden to the aged, 89-90;
musical training essential to appreciation of, 90
"My lady Duchess,"—see Gonzaga, Elisabetta
"My lady Emilia,"—see Pia
“My lord Cardinal,” i.e., Giovanni de’ Medici,—see Leo X
"My lord Duke,"—see Montefeltro, Guidobaldo di
"My lord Gaspar,"—see Pallavicino
"My lord Magnifico,"—see Medici, Giuliano de’
"My lord Prefect,"—see Rovere, Francesco Maria della Myrtis, 391
Naples, 1, 110, 274
Napoli, Pietro da,—see Pietro da Napoli
Narni, Galeotto Marzi da,—see Galeotto Marzi da Narni
Nasica,—see Scipio Nasica
National Library at Madrid, 417
National Library at Paris, 417
Navarre, the King of, 377
Navarre and Aragon, Juan II of, 397
Navò, Curzio, 419, 421
Nazarius, St., 383
Nemours, the Duke of,—see Medici, Giuliano de’
Neologisms, the allowable use of, 47
Nero, the Emperor, 192, 388
New York Public Library, 417
Nicholas V (Tommaso Parentucelli), 127, 362
Nicoletto (Paolo Niccolò Vernia), 116, 359
Nicoletto, da Orvieto, 142, 373
Nicostrate, 197, 391
Nino di Ameria, Giacopo di, Bishop of Potenza, 135, 365
Ninus, the husband of Semiramis, 401
Nonchalance:
the true source of grace, 35, 38;
explanation of the Italian word rendered by, 338
“Not at home,” story of Scipio and Ennius who pretended to be, 148
Novara, 337
_Novelle_ of Boccaccio, 161
Noves, Audibert de, 405
Laure de, 405
Novillara, Count of,—see Castiglione, Baldesar
Noyse, Johann Engelbert, 316, 421
Nucio (or Nutio), Martin, 419
Philippo, 420, 421
the widow of Martin, 420
Nudity, story of lady who dreaded the Judgment Day because of her, 132
Nutio,—see Nucio
Nutt, David, 422
Obedience:
a duty only when the command is righteous, 99-100;
the peril of even slight deviation from the letter of one’s orders,
100-2
Obscenity, to be avoided, 143
Ockenheim, 359
Octavia, 190, 388
Odasio of Padua, 329
Odenathus, King of Palmyra, 401
Œta, Mount, 305, 415
Oglio, story of the peasant girl who drowned herself in the, 214-5
Old age:
its tendency to laud the past and to decry the present, 75-9;
affectations of, 90;
characteristics peculiar to, 91
Old fashions, instances of, in manners and attire, 79
Olschki, Leo, 417
Olympia, 387
Olympian Jove, 171
Olympic games, 171
Oratory:
affectation in, 35;
the variety of, 50-1;
the courtier to be versed in, 59
Orestes, 106, 358
Oriental courts, manners of, 173
Orlando, a character of mediæval romance, 365
Orléans, Duke Charles d’, 371
Orléans, the Duke of,—see Louis XII
Orpheus, 167, 184, 349, 384, 388
Orsini, Clarice, 320, 380
Giangiordano, 404
Ortona, Morello da,—see Morello
Orvieto, Nicoletto da, 142, 373
Oscan language, 49, 340
Othman, Djem,—see Djem Othman
Our Lady of Loreto, 158, 382
Ovid, 237, 315, 390
Ovid’s _Ars Amandi_, 352, 366, 404, 405
Oyselet, Georges l’, 420
Padovano, Giovanni, 419
Padua, 116, 136, 161
the (Arch-) Bishop of, 136, 366
Paduan flavour in Livy’s style, 47
Pæonius’s “Victory,” 387
Paganino, Alessandro, 419
Paglia, story of the practical joke played in the inn at, 157-9
Painting:
affectation in, 37;
variety of, 50;
the courtier to be proficient in, 65;
praise of, 65-70;
discussion as to the comparative merits of painting and sculpture,
67-8, 349-50
Paleologus, Margarita, Duchess of Mantua, 414
Paleotto, Annibal, 134, 135, 364, 367
Camillo, 138, 147, 367
Vincenzo, 364
Pallas, 197, 356
Pallavicino, Count Gaspar, 12, 13, 14, 23, 27, 30, 41, 63, 64, 85, 88,
100, 104, 105, 107, 108, 112, 118, 129, 142, 143, 144, 162, 163,
164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 172, 173-4, 175, 178, 181-2, 185, 186,
190, 193, 194, 197, 199, 201, 202, 203, 206, 207, 209-10, 213, 218,
221, 223, 226, 231, 237, 238-40, 243, 245, 251, 254, 259, 261, 264,
267, 268, 269, 272, 285, 286, 287, 296, 307, 308, 332, 403, 407
Palma Vecchio, 343
Panætius, 250, 408
Pandora, 408
Paolo, a dutiful son, 196
Paolo Romano, 333
Paredes, Diego Garcia de, 371
Parentucelli, Tommaso,—see Nicholas V
Paris, the “noble school” of, (the Sorbonne), 57, 346-7
Paris and the three goddesses, 172, 387
Parmesan, the battle fought in the, i.e., the battle of Fornovo, 117,
360
Passano, Giambattista, (_I Novellieri Italiani_), 417
Passavant, 342
Passions, to be tempered, not extirpated, 257-8
Past, declared to be inferior to the present, 79
Paul, St., 129, 308, 363
Paul III, 317, 369
Paullus, Simon, 421
Paulus, Lucius Æmilius, 69, 351
Pausanias, 390
Pavia, the battle of, 376, 387
the Bishop of,—see Pavia, the Cardinal of
the Cardinal of, (Francesco Alidosi), 146, 151, 314, 319, 368, 375
Payne, Olive, 421
Pazzi, Gianotto de’, 151, 378
Giovanni de’, 378
Rafaello de’, 150-1, 378
Peace, the arts of war no more glorious than those of, 265-6
Pedrada, Sallaza dalla, 140, 370
Pelagio, Guido del, 374
Peleus, 284, 387, 414
Penalties for crime, preventive rather than punitive, 253
Pepoli, the Count of, 139, 369
Peralta, Captain Luijse Galliego de, 152, 379
Pergamus, 358
Periander of Corinth, 408
Pericles, 208, 391, 402, 403
Persecutions endured by girls at their lovers’ hands, 216-8
Perseus, King of Macedon, 351, 392
Persia:
Alexander the Great’s conquest of, 103;
the King of (in the time of Themistocles), 275;
the Sophi King of,—see Ismail Sufi I
Persians defeated in battle, story of their wives’ rebuke, 201
Personal attention, princes’ need to attend personally to the execution
of their commands, 265
Personal service, the perfect courtier not busied with, 174
Perugia, two cousins who fought at, 30
Perugino, 342
Pescara, the Marchioness of,—see Colonna, Vittoria the Marquess of,
319, 322
“Peter Piper,” 365
Petrarch, 41, 42, 44, 49, 50, 51, 52, 220, 323, 339, 345, 348, 383,
404, 405
Petrarch’s _Trionfo d’Amore_, 340
_Phædra_, a character in Seneca’s _Hippolytus_, 367
_Phèdre_, a tragedy by Racine, 367
Philip of Austria, 413
Philip of Burgundy, 387
Philip of Macedon, 34, 143, 374, 414
Philip V of Macedon, 200, 392
Phœnix, 284, 414
Phrigio,—see Frisio
Phrisio,—see Frisio
Phryne, 402
Physiognomists, who read a man’s character and thoughts in his face,
294
Pia, Alda, 394
Emilia, 11, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 32, 53, 54, 66, 72, 93, 119,
122, 123, 130, 131, 136, 144, 167-8, 169-70, 186, 189, 190, 191,
200, 226, 228, 229, 230, 231, 241, 269, 273, 281, 288, 307, 308,
309, 322, 329, 332, 334, 352, 361, 403, 414
Pianella, Count, (Giacomo d’Atri), 142, 373-4
Piazza d’Agone at Rome, 249, 407
Piccinino, Niccolò, 77, 355-6
Piccolomini, Æneas Silvius,—see Pius II
Pierpaolo, 36
Pietro Antonio da Vinci (Leonardo’s father), 341
Pietro da Napoli, 12, 62, 93
Piety towards God, princes’ need of, 270
Pindar, 197, 391
Pinturicchio, 351
Pio, Alberto, 329, 332, 394
Alda,—see Pia
Emilia,—see Pia
Giberto, 329
Leonello, 332
Ludovico, 12, 62, 99, 114, 332, 395
Marco, 329
Pio family, eulogy of the women of the, 202
Piombo, Sebastiano del,—see Luciani
Pippi, Giulio, called Romano, 314
Pirithous, 106, 358
Pisa:
story of a soldier wounded at, 27;
story of a merchant of, rescued from Barbary pirates, 195-7
Pisan war, story about Florentine methods of raising funds for, 130-1
Pisan women, bravery of, 205
Pistoia, 131, 363
Pistoia (Antonio Cammelli), 142, 373
Pittacus of Mitylene, 408
Pius II (Æneas Silvius Piccolomini), 361
Pius III (Francesco Todeschini), 126, 361
Plato, 5, 63, 78, 181, 269, 284, 285, 286, 308, 313, 345, 364, 370,
391, 409, 415
Plato’s “Laws,” 388
_Phædo_, 356
“Republic,” 269, 279, 324, 388, 409
“Symposium,” 391
Plautus, 44, 340, 363
Plautus’s _Menæchmi_, 321
_Trinummus_, 336
Pleasantries:
beginning of the discussion on, 120;
classified, 126;
cruelty to be avoided in, 135-6
Pliny, 349, 351, 391
Plotinus, 308, 416
Plutarch, 356, 364, 389, 391, 393, 408, 411, 412, 414
Plutarch’s “Apothegms and Famous Sayings of Spartan Women,” 393
“Concerning Women’s Virtue,” 390, 392-3
“How to Tell Friend from Flatterer,” 348
“Life of Alexander the Great,” 401
“Life of Camillus,” 392
“Life of Lucullus,” 389
“On Garrulity,” 390
“On the Ignorant Prince,” 409
_Podestà_, explanation of the word, 360
Poetry, the courtier to be versed in, 59
Poisoned cannon shot, story about, 130
Poland, the King of, 132
Poliphilian words, 235
Politian,—see Poliziano
Poliziano, 51, 320, 327, 344-5
Pollux, 404
Pompey (Pompeius), Cneius, 58, 346, 347, 378
Sextus, 192, 193
Pontormo, 358
Pontremolo, Gianluca da,—see Gianluca
Pontus, 264
Ponzio, Caio Caloria, 161-2, 383
Popes, play upon the names of two, 126-7
Porcaro, Antonio, 138, 367, 370
Camillo, 140, 141, 367, 370
Valerio, 367
Porcia, 190, 389
Porta, Domenico dalla, 151
Portalegre, Diego de Silva, Count of, 317
Porto, 274, 410
Portugal, Eleanora of, 396
Elizabeth of, 387
Emanuel I of, 133, 364
John III of, 317
Portuguese mariners, discoveries by the, 133
Porzio,—see Porcaro
Poseidon, 349, 411
Potenza, the Bishop of, (Giacopo di Nino di Ameria), 135, 365
Pozzuoli, 274, 410
Practical jokes, instances of, 155-62
Practice vs. precept, 267-8
Praise, to be modestly disclaimed, 60
Prato, 131, 363
Praxiteles’s “Hermes,” 387
Precept vs. practice, 267-8
Prefect of Rome,—see Rovere, Francesco Maria della
Près, Josquin de, 113, 359
Present, declared to be superior to the past, 79
_Primero_, or _primiera_, a game of cards, 382
Princes:
courtiers’ intercourse with, 93-102102;
courtiers not to intrude upon the privacy of, 95;
to deserve their favour is the best way of gaining it, 96;
a picture of the perfect prince, 261-72;
evils endured by tyrannical princes, 263-4
_Procella_, fury or storm, 94, 357
Procrustes, 275, 411
Prometheus, 252, 408
Proto da Lucca, 137, 366
Protogenes, 37, 69, 338
Provençal:
Boccaccio’s use of, 4;
fallen into decay in the author’s time, 49
Provence, René of, 375, 395
Provincial flavour, not necessarily a blemish in literary style, 47
Ptolemy, 389
Publius Licinius Crassus Mucianus, 101-2, 358
Pulci, Luigi, 365
Puns, instances of, 126-7, 134-5, 137-9
Purifying influence of love, 219
Purism of speech deprecated, 52
Pygmalion, 175, 388
Pylades, 106, 358
Pyramids of Egypt said to have been built in order to keep the
Egyptians busy, 267
Pythagoras, 90, 171, 357
Pythagoreans, the, 356
Quack, story of the peasant who had lost an eye and consulted a, 150
Qualities of the courtier, how to be employed, 81 et seq.
Rabani, Vettor de’, 419
Racine, 367
Raibolini, Francesco, better known as Francia, 332
Raleigh, Professor Walter, 316, 422
Rampazzetto, Francesco, 420
Rangone, Count Ercole, 139, 369
Raphael, 2, 50, 66, 67, 149, 313, 321, 333, 342-3, 378, 410, 411, 415
Ravenna, the battle of, 378, 379
Recitative, 89
Regio, Raffaele, 367
Reinhardstöttner’s article on the German translations of THE COURTIER,
417
Remondini, 421
Remus, 378
René of Provence, 375, 395
Renier, Rodolfo, 373, 399
Reputation:
a courtier to be preceded by his, 110;
the influence of, 112
Rhodes, 69
Riario, Cardinal, 383
Richard III of England, 413
Richmond, Edmund Tudor, Earl of, 412
Rigutini, Giuseppe, 327, 422
Rinaldo, a character of mediæval romance, 365
Ritius, Johannes, 420, 421
Rivadeneyra, Manuel, 421
Rivera, Donna Costanza de, 377
Don Luis de, 377
Rizzo, Antonio, 151, 378
Roberto da Bari, 12, 36, 127, 128, 225, 226, 228, 244, 332-3
_Roegarze_, a dance performed after the first evening’s discussion, 73,
352-3
Roma, a Trojan woman, 198
Roman Academy, the, 369, 370
Romano, Giancristoforo,—see Giancristoforo Romano
Giulio Pippi, 314, 414
Paolo, 333
Romano Giovenale, Ettore, 71, 351-2
Rome, 12, 68, 86, 110, 122, 126, 136, 139, 141, 146, 153, 159, 197,
198, 199, 201, 216, 249, 274
Romulus, 198, 199, 378, 392
Rose-colour, Cosimo de’ Medici’s advice to a silly ambassador to wear,
151
Rossi, U., 404
Vittorio, his article on Caio Caloria Ponzio, 383
_Rota_ (or _Ruota_) _della Giustizia_, a law court, 151, 379
Rovere, Caterina della, “a brave lady,” 26
Felice della, 216, 404
Francesco Maria della, “My lord Prefect,” and afterwards Duke of
Urbino, 1, 70, 71, 80, 119, 120, 121, 138, 152, 244, 309, 314,
318-9, 328, 332, 351, 352, 367, 368, 375, 380, 404, 407
Galeotto della, Cardinal of San Pietro ad Vincula, 122, 159, 361,
371, 383
Giovanni della, 318, 328
Giuliano della,—see Julius II
Luchina della, 361
Lucrezia Gara della, 371
Raffaele della, 328
Rovillio, Gulielmo, 335, 420
Roxana of Bactria, 414
Roxana of Pontus, 389
Rules of conduct propounded by Federico Fregoso, 83
Ruskin, John, 351
S:
the letter worn by “My lady Duchess” upon her brow, 16;
the Unico Aretino’s sonnet concerning, 17, 335-6
Sabine women and their Roman husbands, the story of the, 198-9
Sables, story of the merchant of Lucca and his, 132-3
Sade, Hughes de, 405
Sadoleto, Giacomo, 139, 331, 369
Giovanni, 369
Saguntine women, bravery of, 201, 393
St. Ambrose, Jacques Colin, Abbot of, 315
St. Angelo, the Castle of, 367
St. Celsus, 383
St. Elmo, 147, 376
St. Erasmus, 376
St. Francis, 308, 416
St. George:
the English order of (the Garter), 173, 387;
mentioned, 404
St. Gregory, 393
St. Jerome, 188
St. Jerome’s Epistle on Widowhood, 388
St. Louis, 395
St. Mary Magdalen, 308
St. Michael, the French order of, 173, 387
St. Nazarius, 383
St. Paul, 129, 308, 363
St. Peter and St. Paul, story about a picture in which Raphael had
represented, 149, 377-8
St. Peter’s, the Church of:
story of the prelate who stooped on entering, 144;
the rebuilding of, 274, 410
St. Sebastian, the basilica of, 404
St. Stephen, 308
Salerno, the Archbishop of,—see Fregoso, Federico
Salian priests, 44, 339
Sallaza dalla Pedrada, 140, 370
Sallust, 346
Saluzzo, Rizzarda di, 363
Salvadori, Giulio, 421
Samber, Robert, 421
San Bonifacio, Count Ludovico da, 139, 369
San Celso, 159
San Gallo Gate at Florence, 145
San Giacomo, the Church of, at Padua, 384
San Giorgio, Giovanni Antonio, "the Alexandrian Cardinal,"—see
Alexandrian
San Leo, story of Duke Guidobaldo and the castellan who had
surrendered, 147, 376-7
San Magno, Masella di, 358
Sannazaro, Giacopo, 113, 358-9
Giacopo Niccolò, 358
San Pietro ad Vincula, the Cardinal of,—see Rovere, Galeotto della
San Sebastiano, story of an outrage committed near the Church of, 215-6
Sansecondo, Giacomo, 123, 361
Sanseverino, Galeazzo, 34, 337-8
Roberto, 337
San Silvestro, picture painted by Raphael for the Church of, 378
Sansoni, G. C., 421, 422
Santacroce, Alfonso, 146, 375
Santa Maria in Portico, the Cardinal of,—see Bibbiena
Santi, Giovanni, 342, 376
Raffaello,—see Raphael
Sanzio, Raffaello,—see Raphael
Sappho, 197, 391
Sardanapalus, 206, 401
Savona, 216, 404
Savonarola, 328, 363
Savoy, Charlotte of, 395
Filiberta of, 320, 346
Filiberto, Duke of, 396
Louise of, 346
Scarmiglione da Foglino, 377
Schaeffer, Carl, 421
Schultz, a printer, 421
Scipio Africanus Maximus, 207, 347, 377, 401, 402, 408
Scipio Africanus the Younger, 51, 58, 106, 146, 190, 205, 210, 250,
340, 344, 358, 408
Scipio Nasica, Publius Cornelius, 148, 377
Sciron, 275, 411
“Scissors,” 192
Scoto, Girolamo, 420
Scott, Mary Augusta, 316, 332
Sculpture and painting, the comparative merits of, 66-8, 349-50
Scythia, 285
Scythians:
a custom among the, 266;
mentioned, 414
Sebastian, St., the basilica of, 404
Sebastiano, a brother of Fra Serafino, 335
Self-confidence requisite in the courtier, 28
Self-depreciation, to be avoided, 117
Self-praise discussed, 25-7
Self-seclusion of princes, 249
Selim I of Turkey, 372, 388
Semiramis, 205, 401
Seneca’s _Hippolytus_, 367
Sera, Francesca del, 343
Neri del, 343
Serafino, Fra,—see Fra Serafino
master, 150
Serafino Ciminelli d’Aquila, 142, 352, 373
Serassi, Pierantonio, 421
Seres, William, 420
Sertenas, Vincent, 419
Seven Sages of Greece, the, 408
Sforza, Anna, first wife of Alfonso d’Este, 399
Battista, Duchess of Urbino, 317, 326, 394
Bianca, 337
Bianca Maria, 396
Caterina, 336-7
Francesco, Duke of Milan, 326, 341, 355, 381, 394, 397, 398
Francesco Maria, 399
Galeazzo Maria, Duke of Milan, 337, 381
Giangaleazzo, Duke of Milan, 381, 398
Ippolita Maria, Queen of Naples, 327, 397, 398
Ludovico il Moro, Duke of Milan, 153, 313, 327, 332, 336, 337, 341,
371, 373, 381, 395, 396, 398, 399, 409
Maximilian, 399
Muzio Attendolo, 381
Shakspere, 403
Sibyls, the, 197, 390
Sicily, 195
Sidney, Sir Philip, his “Arcadia,” 359
Siena:
retort made to a townsman of, 136;
story about the Emperor and, 143;
the Cardinal of, 351
Silius Italicus, Caius, 52, 53, 346
Silva, Diego de, Count of Portalegre, 317
Miguel de, Bishop of Viseu, 1, 317
Silvestri, Giovanni, 421
Simbeni, 420
Similes and metaphors in pleasantry, 142
Simone, a character in Boccaccio, 161
Simoni, Ludovico Buonarroti, 343
Simpleton, retort made by Lorenzo de’ Medici to a, 145
Sinning against light, 255-6
_Si non caste, tamen caute_, 189, 388
Sinoris, 194, 195
Sismondi, 328
Sixtus IV, 318, 326, 328, 359, 396, 404
Slater, H., 421
Slavonia, jest about a comedy so elaborate as to need for its setting
all the wood in, 152
Social inferiors, consorting with, 85-6
Socrates, 56, 57, 63, 78, 90, 181, 308, 344, 348, 356, 391, 402, 408
Solomon, 220, 405
Solon of Athens, 391, 408
Sonzogno, Edoardo, 324, 422
Sophocles, 402
Sorbon, Robert, 346-7
Sorbonne, the, 57, 346-7
Spain, 1, 204, 207, 315
Spaniards:
martial exercises excelled in by, 31;
affirmed by Calmeta to be the masters of courtiership, 97-8;
discussion whether they are presumptuous, 98;
said to excel in chess, 109;
their grave manners, 114-5
Spanish fashion of dress:
affected by some, 102;
sobriety of, 103
Spartan women, bravery of, 201
Speaking and writing, to be governed by essentially the same rules, 40
_Sprezzatura_ (nonchalance), 35, 338
Squarcione, Francesco, 341
Stadia, computation of the size of Hercules’s body based upon a
comparison of the different, 171
Stagira, 285, 414
Stasicrates, 411
Statira of Pontus, 389
Stature, the courtier to be of moderate, 29
_Stazioni_, 136, 366
Stephen, St., 308
Stesichorus, 294, 415
Stilico, 313
Stoic philosophers, 82
Strascino (Niccolò Campani da Siena), 128, 362
Strozzi, Palla degli, 140, 370
Suetonius, 360
Sulla, Lucius Cornelius, 58, 347
Sulpicius Rufus, Publius, 51, 344
Sumptuary regulations, commended, 278
Swimming, an accomplishment proper for the courtier, 31
Symonds, John Addington, 315, 327, 339, 345, 359, 360, 369, 370, 409,
412
Synattus, 194, 195
Synesius, 357
“T-A” (a printer’s initials), 419
Tacitus, Cornelius, 52, 53, 346, 368
Taft, _taftah_, taffety, 364
Tarpeia, 392
Tarquinius Priscus, 190, 389
Tasso, the poet, 333
Girolamo, a printer, 421
Tatius, Titus, 198, 199, 392
Teeth, the beauty of, 55
Temperament of men and women discussed, 186-7
Temperance and continence, contrasted and discussed, 257
Tenda, Beatrice di, 355
Tennis:
a pastime appropriate to the courtier, 31;
to be practised only as a diversion, 86
Tennyson’s “Cup,” Castiglione’s version of the story on which was
founded, 194-5, 390
Teramo, the Bishop of,—see Porcaro, Camillo
Terpandro, Antonio Maria, 12, 334
Thales of Miletus, 408
Themistocles, 64, 76, 275, 349
Themistus of Syracuse, 389
Theodatus, 393
Theodolinda, Queen of the Lombards, 202, 393
Theodora, wife of the Emperor Theophilus, 202, 393
wife of the Emperor Justinian, 393
Theodoric the Great, 393
Theophilus, the Emperor, 393
Theophrastus, 5, 323
Theseus, 106, 275, 358, 411
Thetis, 387
Tiber, first Trojan landing at the mouth of the, 198
Ticknor, the historian of Spanish literature, 315
Time, the true test of literary and other excellence, 6
Time and manner of employing the courtier’s accomplishments, 81 et seq.
Timeliness, a requisite in pleasantries, 154
Timur the Tartar, 387
Tintoretto, 351
Tipografia dei Classici Italiani, la, 421
_Tirsi_, an eclogue by Castiglione, 314, 331, 332
Tisias (Stesichorus), 415
Titian, 313, 320, 343, 407
Titus Tatius, 198, 199, 392
Todeschini, Francesco,—see Pius III
Toldo, Pietro, 315
Tolosa, Paolo, 151, 378
Tomeo, Niccolò,—see Leonico
Tommaso, Antonio di, 375
Tommaso, messer, of Pisa, 195-6
Tomyris, 205, 400
Torello, Antonio, 151, 378-9
Count Guido, di Montechiarugolo, 314
Ippolita, wife of the author, 314, 369
Torre, Geronimo della, 366
Marcantonio della, 136, 137, 366
Torresano, Federico, 419
Tortis, Alvise de, 419
Total abstinence, 258
Touans, Pedro, 419
Trajan, the Emperor, 410
Tricks and deceptions practised by lovers, 217-8
Trifles, instances of books written about, 93, 357
Trino, Comin da, 420
Trojan Horse, the, 244
Trojan settlement in Italy, a story of the, 197-8
Trojan War, the origin of the, 387
Trombone, story about playing the, 131
Troy:
Trojan settlement in Italy after the fall of, 197-8;
the valour of Trojan women long prevented the fall of, 219;
the fall of, cited as an instance of the woes wrought by women’s
beauty, 293
True Lovers’ Arch, 222
Truth, the courtier’s chief aim should be to inform his prince of the,
247
Tudor, Arthur, 412
Catherine, widow of Henry V of England, 412-3
Edmund, Earl of Richmond, 412
Henry, son of Edmund,—see Henry VII
Henry, son of Henry,—see Henry VIII
Margaret, daughter of Henry, 413
Mary, Queen of France, daughter of Henry, 371
Tullius,—see Cicero, Marcus Tullius
Turin, Duke Agilulph of, 393
Turk, the Grand, (Bajazet II),—see Bajazet II of Turkey
Turkish fashion of dress:
affected by some, 102;
peculiarities of, 372
Turks and Moors, 275
Turler, Hieronymus, 316, 420
Turnus, 44, 339
Tuscan dialect:
author’s reasons for not using, 3-5;
discussion of, 39-54;
not to be regarded as sole criterion of Italian usage, 48
Tuscany, 4, 5, 39, 40, 43, 44
Duke Boniface of, 394
Tutula, 392
Tyrant, witticism against a tyrant falsely reputed to be generous, 145
Tyrants, evils suffered by, 263-4
Ubaldini, Bernardino, 376
Ottaviano, 147, 376
Ubicini, the brothers, 421
_Ufficio grande_ and _ufficio della Madonna_, 137-8, 366
Ugolini, Paulo, 421
Ulysses, 284, 409
Unico Aretino, 12, 16, 17, 80, 81, 179, 228, 229, 230, 333, 335, 352
Urbino, 8, 9, 13, 80
a Count of, in 1216, 325
daily life at the court of, 10-2
the Duchess of,—see Gonzaga, Eleanora and Elisabetta
the Duke of,—see Montefeltro and Rovere
Usage:
the law of good speech, 3;
but not bad usage, 48;
who establish it, 48;
changeable, 49
Utility, an element of beauty, 295
Valentino, Duke,—see Borgia, Cesare
Valerius Maximus’s “Memorable Doings and Sayings,” 390, 401
Vanozza, Rosa, 377
Varano, Costanza da, 394
Varchi, 348
Variety of occupations, inculcated, 31
Varlungo, the priest of, (a character in Boccaccio), 127
Varro, Marcus Terentius, 54, 346
Vasari, Giorgio, 341, 343, 350
Vatican Library at Rome, 417
Vaulting on horseback, proper for the courtier, 31
Venery, an appropriate pastime for the courtier, 31
Venetians:
their manner of riding ridiculed, 37, 130;
addicted to the wearing of puffed sleeves, 104
Venice, 131, 147
Venus, 309
Venus Armata, 199, 392
Venus Calva, 199, 392
Vernacular (i.e., Italian), the courtier to be proficient in the use of
the, 59
Vernia, Paolo Niccolò,—see Nicoletto
Verocchio, 341
Verulam, Lord, (Francis Bacon), 316
Vesme, Count Carlo Baudi di, 357, 417, 421
Vespasiano, 326
Vesta, 393
Vestal Virgins, 201
Vinci, Leonardo da,—see Leonardo da Vinci
Viol, 88-9, 356
Viotti, Antonio di, 419
Virgil, 41, 44, 47, 49, 52, 53, 339, 359
_Virtù, la_, a feminine quality, 169
Virtue, whether it is inborn or capable of being acquired, 251 et seq.
Visconti, Bianca Maria, 381
Caterina, 355
Filippo Maria, Duke of Milan, 77, 355
Giangaleotto, Duke of Milan, 355
Giovanni Maria, Duke of Milan, 355
Valentina, 371
Viseu, the Bishop of,—see Silva
Vite, Timoteo della, 342
Vitruvius, 342, 411
Vittorino da Feltre, 325
Vittorio Emanuele Library at Rome, 417
_Vizio, il_, a masculine quality, 169
Volpi, edition of THE COURTIER annotated by the brothers, 324, 421
Volterra, Mario da,—see Mario de’ Maffei
Vulcan, 252, 411
Wales, the Prince of,—see Henry VIII of England
Weapons, the courtier to be familiar with the handling of, 29
Wheel, the, (a court of justice), story about, 151, 379
Wifely affection, instances of, 194-7
Witticism and pleasantry, beginning of the discussion on, 120
Wives and husbands, ill treatment between, 193
Wolfe, John, 421
Womanliness, the chief essential in the Court Lady, 175
Womanly virtue, instances of, 190 et seq.
Women, different kinds of men love different kinds of, 227-8
Women afford inspiration to poets and musicians, 220
Women and men, beginning of the discussion on the comparative
excellence of, 182
Women’s excellence in literature, music, painting and sculpture, 205
Women’s extravagance in dress and ornament, 278
Women’s honour, beginning of the discussion as to the regard to be
shown to, 162
Women’s innate love of honour, 209 et seq.
Women’s usefulness to men, ancient instances of, 197 et seq.
Women’s usual regret at not having been born men, 185
Wrestling, the courtier to be familiar with, 29
Writing and speaking, to be governed by essentially the same rules, 40
Xenocrates, 208, 402, 403
Xenophon, 5, 58, 250, 408
Xenophon’s _Cyropædia_, 324, 409
Xerxes, 411
Youth, characteristics peculiar to, 91
Zenobia, 205, 401
Zetzner, Lazarus, 421
Zeus, 387, 408
Zeuxis, 70, 351
Zizim,—see Djem
Zodiac, explanation of the Signs of the, 415
[Illustration]
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Transcriber’s Note
On p. 16, a reference to endnote 61 should have been endnote 62. That
was been corrected.
On pp. 402-403, an extended Italian quote includes line breaks that
disrupt words without benefit of hyphenation. Since the translator
claims to reproduce the 1528 Aldine edition "line for line", those
breaks are retained.
line 9 : e tempo era il [letto],
line 19: che fosse [stato]
line 23: & [graue]: (for modern "grave")
line 39: come se fusse stato [all’opiato] (for modern "oppiato")
line 40: [Veramente]
line 44: che si [scriue] (for modern "scrive")
line 45: gran prezzo per una [notte],
line 46: Rideasi [tutta].
Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected,
and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the
original.
18.5 anger and disdain, most sweet[.] Added.
40.18 those who speak are present before those who Listen?
[speak/hear].
102.30 nor is th[eir/ere] lack of those Replaced.
225.21 they take every pain[s] Removed.
362.27 ‘the Pope is good for nothing.[’] Added.
382.10 and w[a]s known as a schismatic. Restored.
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