CES. Now here is a boy in a boat, which little by little is being
submerged in the tempestuous waves, and he, languid and tired, has
abandoned the oars; around it the legend "Fronti nulla, fides." There is
no doubt that this signifies that he was induced, by the serene aspect
of the waters, to venture on the treacherous sea, which having suddenly
become troubled, the boy, in mortal fear, and in his impotence to still
the tempest, has lost his head, his hope, and the power of his arm. But
let us see the rest:--
52.
Oh, gentle boy, that from the shore didst loose
The baby bark, and to the slender oar
Didst set thy unskilled hand; lured by the sea!
Late hast thou seen the evil of thy plight.
See there the traitor rolls his fatal waves,
The prow of thy frail bark, now sinks, now mounts.
The soul borne down with anxious cares
Prevaileth not against the swollen floods.
Thy oars thou yieldst to thy fierce enemy,
Waiting for death with calm collected thought,
With eyelids closed, lest thou shouldst see him come.
If thee no friendly aid should quickly reach
Thou surely must the full result soon feel,
Of thy inquisitive temerity.
My cruel fate is like unto thine own,
For I too, lured, enticed by Love, must feel,
The rigour keen of this most treacherous one.
In what manner and why Love is a traitor and deceiver we have just seen;
but as I see the following without figure or legend, I believe that it
must have connection with the above. Therefore let us go on and read it.
53.
Methought to leave the shelter of my port,
And from maturer studies rest awhile:
When, looking round me to enjoy my ease,
Sudden I saw those unrelenting fates.
These have inflamed me with so ardent fires.
Vainly I strive some safer shores to reach,
Vainly from pitying hands invoke some aid,
And swift deliverance from my enemies.
Weary and hoarse I yield me, impotent,
And seek no more to elude my destiny,
Or make endeavour to escape my death:
Let every other life to me be null,
And let not the extremest torment fail,
Which my hard fate for me prescribed.
Type of my own deep ills,
Is that which thou for pastime didst entrust
To hostile breast. Oh, careless boy.
Here I would not pretend to understand or determine all that the
enthusiast means. Yet there is well expressed the strange condition of a
soul cast down by the knowledge of the difficulty of the operation, the
amount of the labour, the vastness of the work on one side, and on the
other the ignorance, want of knowledge of the way, weakness of nerves
and peril of death. He has no knowledge suitable to the business, he
does not know where and how to turn, no place of flight or refuge
presents itself; and he sees that, from every side, the waves threaten,
with frightful, fatal impetus. Ignoranti portum, nullus suus ventus est.
Behold him, who has committed himself indeed to fortuitous things, and
has brought upon himself trouble, prison, ruin, and drowning. See how
fortune deludes us, and that which we put carefully into her hands, she
either breaks or lets it fall from her hands, or causes it to be removed
by the violence of another, or suffocates and poisons, or taints with
suspicion, fear, and jealousy to the great hurt and ruin of the
possessor. Fortunae au ulla putatis dona carcere dolis? For strength
which cannot give proof of itself is dissipated; magnanimity, which
cannot prevail, is naught, and vain is study without results; he sees
the effects of the fear of evil, which is worse than evil itself. Peior
est morte timor ipse mortis. He already suffers, through fear, that
which he fears to suffer, terror in the limbs, imbecility in the nerves,
tremors in the body, anxiety of the spirit, and that which has not yet
appeared becomes present to him, and is certainly worse than whatsoever
may happen. What can be more stupid than to be in pain about future
things and absent ones which at present are not felt?
CES. These considerations are on the surface and belong to the external
of the figure. But the proposition of the heroic enthusiast, I think,
deals with the imbecility of human nature (ingegno) which, intent on the
Divine undertaking, finds itself all at once engulphed in the abyss of
incomprehensible excellence, and the sense and the imagination become
confused and absorbed, and not knowing how to pass on, nor to go back,
nor where to turn, vanishes and loses itself as a drop of water vanishes
in the sea, or as a small spirit, becomes attenuated, losing its own
substance in the space and immensity of the atmosphere.
MAR. Well. But let us go towards our chamber and talk as we go, for it
is night.
=Second Dialogue=
MARICONDO. Here you see a flaming yoke enveloped in knots round which is
written: Levius aura; which means that Divine love does not weigh down,
nor carry his servant captive and enslaved to the lowest depths, but
raises him, supports him and magnifies him above all liberty whatsoever.
CES. Prithee, let us read the sonnet, so that we may consider the sense
of it in due order with propriety and brevity.