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.”