TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
—Obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.
—Superscripts have been rendered as a^{b}.
LORENZO DE’ MEDICI
VOL. II.
LORENZO DE’ MEDICI
_THE MAGNIFICENT_
BY
ALFRED VON REUMONT
_TRANSLATED from THE GERMAN by ROBERT HARRISON_
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. II.
LONDON
SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE
1876
[_All rights reserved_]
CONTENTS
OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.
FOURTH BOOK—_continued_.
SECOND PART.
TIME OF LORENZO THE MAGNIFICENT.
CHAPTER VI.
LORENZO DE’ MEDICI AS A POET. PAGE
Lorenzo’s Letter to Don Federigo of Aragon accompanying a
Collection of Old Italian Poems—Opinions on Italian Poetry—The
Poets of the Thirteenth Century—Dante and Successors—The Italian
Vulgar Tongue—Lorenzo’s Position in Literature—Influence of
Antiquity and the Dantesque Period—The Feeling for Nature in
Lorenzo’s Poetry—The Love Poems—Lucrezia Donati—The Nature
of Love—Lorenzo’s Sonnets—Idylls—‘Corinto’—‘La Nencia da
Barberino’—‘Ambra’—‘The Hawking Party’ and ‘I Beoni’—Prevalence
of the Burlesque—Dance and Carnaval Songs—Carnaval
Companies—Mystery-Play of St. John and St. Paul—Spiritual Songs 3
CHAPTER VII.
MARSILIO FICINO AND CRISTOFORO LANDINO.
Platonism—Ficino’s Influence on Religion and Philosophy—The
Connection of Platonism with Christianity—Speculation and
Reality—Marsilio Ficino and Dante—Ficino’s Works—Book
on Christian Learning—Translation of Plato—‘Theologia
Platonica’—Translation of Plotinus and Dionysius the
Areopagite—Ficino’s Letters on Personal Relations—His Connection
with Learned Foreigners—His Manner of life—His Advice to Lorenzo
de’ Medici and to Cardinal Raffael Riario—His Picture of a Right
Way of Living—Lorenzo’s Connection with Ficino—Cristoforo
Landino’s Position and Labours—The Camaldulensian
Discussions—Leon Battista Alberti with the Medici Brothers and
their Friends in the Abbey of Camaldoli—Various Phases of the
Study of Dante—Dante and the Fifteenth Century Biographies of
Dante—First Edition of the ‘Divine Comedy’—Landino’s Edition,
with a Commentary—Study of Dante in Landino’s Time 20
CHAPTER VIII.
LUIGI PULCI AND ANGELO POLIZIANO.
Matteo Palmieri and ‘The City of Life’—Burchiello and the
Burlesque—The Romantic Epos—Bernardo and Luca Pulci—The
‘Ciriffo Calvaneo’ and the ‘Giostri’—Luigi Pulci and the
‘Morgante Maggiore’—The Epopee and the Courts of Medici and
Este—Luigi Pulci’s Connection with Lorenzo de’ Medici—Angelo
Poliziano’s Family and Youth—His Homeric Studies—Translation
of the Iliad—Dedication to Lorenzo—Opinion of Cardinal
Ammannati—Interruptions in the Work—The Dramatic Piece
‘Orfeo’—Tournament of Giuliano de’ Medici—The Stanzas—Small
Latin Poems—Poliziano as a Latin Poet—The ‘Sylvæ’—Description
of Lorenzo as a Poet—Description of Fiesole—Dedication of the
‘Sylvæ’—Son of Lorenzo, Pier Francesco de’ Medici, Lorenzo
Tornabuoni, Antonio Pallavicino Gentile—Witches in an Academical
Lecture—Poliziano as a Popular Song Writer—Rispetti—Poliziano as
Translator and Letter Writer 41
CHAPTER IX.
POLIZIANO IN THE HOME OF THE MEDICI. SCALA AND RUCELLAI.
Poliziano as a Poet and Tutor of the Medici—Poliziano and
Madonna Clarice—Winter Residence in Caffagiuolo—Ode to Gentile
Becchi—Poliziano’s Letter to Madonna Lucrezia—Dissension between
Madonna Clarice and Poliziano—Poliziano in Fiesole—Poliziano and
others as Teachers of Piero de’ Medici—Giorgio Benigno—Giovanni
Prato—Antonio Barberini—Piero de’ Medici in his Youth—Bartolommeo
Scala—Benedetto Accolti—Scala and Lorenzo de’ Medici—Quarrel of
Poliziano and Scala—Alessandra Scala—Poliziano’s Quarrel with
Marullus—Alamanno Rinuccini—Bernardo Rucellai and the Platonic
Academy 63
CHAPTER X.
ERMOLAO BARBARO AND PICO DELLA MIRANDOLA.
Bernardo Bembo—Ermolao Barbaro—Barbaro’s Visit to Florence
and to Lorenzo de’ Medici at the Baths—Lorenzo’s Exertions in
favour of Barbaro—Giovanni Pico de’ Mirandola—Pico in Florence
and in the Medici Circle—The Cabbala—Pico’s Amorous Adventure
at Arezzo—Disputation at Rome and Opposition—Denunciation and
Apology—Lorenzo’s Interposition on behalf of Pico—Pico’s Country
Life and Studies—Lorenzo’s Defence of Pico against his Romish
Adversaries—Final Issue of the Difference—Pico’s Poetical and
Philosophical Works—Pico a Type of the Age—Stefano Porcaro and
Pandolfo Collenuccio 79
CHAPTER XI.
PISA UNIVERSITY. MANUSCRIPTS AND CRITICISM. PRINTING. PLATONIC
SYMPOSIA.
Latin Poets—Ugolino Verino—Alessandro Bracci—G. B.
Contalicio—Tommaso Baldinotti—Pierio Riccio—Pisa and its
University before Lorenzo’s Time—Lorenzo de’ Medici and
Pisa—Restoration of the University—Filelfo’s Endeavours after a
Professorship—Difficulties of the New Establishment—Professors
of the University—Bartolommeo Sozzini—the Brothers
Decio—Waldo Bartolini—Francesco Accolti—Pierio Leoni—Lorenzo
Lippi—Bartolommeo von Pratovecchio—Francesco de’
Massimi—Studies in Florence—Fontius and Chalcondylas—Johannes
Lascaris—The high Development of Greek Studies—Platina and
Pomponius Leti in connection with Lorenzo—Examination of
Manuscripts—Emendations—Poliziano’s Critical Works—Collation
of the Pandects—Translations—The Art of Printing—Bernardo
Cennini—First Printing in Florence—Increased Diffusion of
Literary Treasures—Manuscript Collectors in Florence—Lorenzo de’
Medici as a Manuscript Collector—Poliziano in Venice—Cassandra
Fedele—Piero de’ Medici and the Medicean Collections—The
Books of Mathias Corvinus—Intercourse between the Learned of
Hungary and Florence—Collections of Inscriptions—The Academy at
Rome—Fra Giocondo of Verona—Lorenzo de’ Medici as the Centre of
the Learned World—Assemblies of the Platonic Academy—Platonic
Symposia—The Exact Sciences—Paolo Toscanelli—Amerigo Vespucci 96
THIRD PART.
THE FINE ARTS.
CHAPTER XII.
COSIMO AND PIERO DE’ MEDICI AND ART.
Revolution in the Direction of Art when Cosimo was
young—Architectural Questions—Brunelleschi—Re-building
of San Lorenzo—Abbey of Fiesole—Michelozzo—Church and
Convent of San Marco—Other Works of Michelozzo—Chapel
of the Annunziata—Tabernacle in San Miniato—Tornabuoni
Palace—Brunelleschi’s Buildings—Pazzi Chapel—Pitti Palace—Luca
Fancelli—Leon Batista Alberti—Rucellai Palace and Loggia—Holy
Sepulchre—The Annunziata Choir—Sculpture—Donatello and Cosimo
de’ Medici—Lorenzo Ghiberti—Glass Painting and the Jesuates—Luca
della Robbia—Works in Glazed Earth—Sepulchral Monuments—Noferi
Strozzi—Neri Capponi—Orlando de’ Medici—Splendour of the
Monuments—Desiderio da Settignano—Bernardo and Antonio
Rossellino—Chapel of the Cardinal of Portugal—Mino
da Fiesole—Ornamentation—Giuliano da Majano—Antonio
Filarete—Niello—Maso Finiguerra—Painting—Masaccio and Fra
Angelico of Fiesole—Benozzo Gozzoli—Paolo Uccello—Andrea dal
Castagno—Domenico Veneziano—Filippo Lippi—The Peselli—Flemish
in connection with Tuscan Art—Art-Treasures and Antiquities in
the House of the Medici—Personal Intercourse of the Medici with
Artists—Antonio Squarcialupi _degli Organi_—Domenico Veneziano to
Piero de’ Medici—Benozzo Gozzali to Piero de’ Medici—Fra Filippo
Lippi and the Medici—Beginnings of Art History—Cennini and
Ghiberti 120
CHAPTER XIII.
BUILDING IN THE DAYS OF LORENZO DE’ MEDICI.
Lorenzo’s Knowledge of Architecture—Giuliano da Majano at Home
and Abroad—Benedetto da Majano—The Strozzi Palace—Giuliano
Giamberti da Sangallo—The Castle of Ostia and the Villa at Poggio
a Cajano—The Convent of San Gallo—The Gondi Palace—Antonio
da Sangallo—Plan for restoring the Façade of Sta. Maria del
Fiore—Façade of Sto. Spirito—Palace of the Signoria—Clock of
Lorenzo della Volpaia—Simone del Pollaiuolo called Cronaca—New
Buildings and Streets—Works of Art in Town Houses and Country
Villas 146
CHAPTER XIV.
SCULPTURE AND PAINTING.
Andrea del Verocchio—Sepulchre of Piero and Giovanni de’
Medici, and other Works—Antonio del Pollaiulo—Benedetto
da Majano—Monuments of Giotto and Squarcialupi—Chancel
of Sta. Croce, &c.—Mino da Fiesole—Monuments of Bernardo
Giugni and Marquis Hugo—Ornamentation—Sepulchres of the
Sassetti—Woodwork—The Art of the Goldsmith and Die-cutting—The
Dossale in the Baptistery—Antonio del Pollaiuolo—Bertoldo—Andrea
Guazzalotti—Gem-cutting—The Medici Collection of Gems—Giovanni
delle Corniuole—Painters—Verrochio—Pollainoli—Alesso
Baldovinetti—The Dante Picture in the Cathedral—Historical
Compositions—Sandro Botticelli—Filippino Lippi—Cosimo
Rosselli—Ghirlandajo—Mosaics—Baldinovetti and Ghirlandajo—Garden
and Casino of San Marco—Michel Angelo Buonarroti—Leonardo da
Vinci 163
FIFTH BOOK.
_DEVELOPMENT OF THE SUPREMACY OF THE MEDICI._
CHAPTER I.
CONSTITUTIONAL CHANGES IN FLORENCE.
Position of Lorenzo de’ Medici—Public and Private
Finance—Constitutional Reform—General and Select
Council—Council of Seventy and their Functions—Opinions of
Contemporaries—Alessandro de’ Pazzi on Lorenzo’s Financial
Position—The Taxation—Progressive Change of the Constitution—The
Magistracy—Signories, Collegia, Councils—The Podestà and his
Court—Magistracy of Eight—Guardians of the Law—The Council of
Ten for Peace and War—Capitani di Parte Guelfa—Officers of the
Customs and of the Public Debt—Officers of Trade—Guilds and
Philanthropic Institutions—New Conspiracy against Lorenzo de’
Medici—Re-capture of Otranto 187
CHAPTER II.
THE WAR OF FERRARA.
Dispute of Venice with Ferrara—The Allies of Both—Beginning
of the Campaign at the Po—Preparations in Rome—Sixtus IV.’s
Oppression—Proposals to Louis XI.—Battle of Campomorto—Danger of
Ferrara—Bad Management of the War—Threat of a General Council
against Sixtus IV.—Lorenzo de’ Medici’s Participation in the
same—The changed Policy of Sixtus IV.—Sixtus IV.’s Agreement with
his Adversaries—Lorenzo de’ Medici as Florentine Plenipotentiary
at the Peace Congress of Cremona—Opposition of Venice and
Continuation of the War—Ludovico il Moro and the Affairs of
Milan—Lorenzo do’ Medici and Ludovico il Moro—Ludovico il Moro
on Milan Affairs—Ludovico’s Negotiation with Venice—The Peace of
Bagnolo—Unfavourable Conditions for Ferrara—Death of Pope Sixtus
IV.—Confused State of Politics—Città di Castello and Siena—The
Sarzana Controversy—Occupation of Pietrasanta 197
CHAPTER III.
THE EARLY DAYS OF THE RULE OF INNOCENT VIII. LOUIS XI. AND FRANCE.
State of Rome in the Last Days of Sixtus IV.—Girolamo
Riario—Confusion on the Death of the Pope—Pope Innocent
VIII.—The Cybò Family—Character of Innocent VIII.—Congratulatory
Embassies—Florentine Embassy—Piero de’ Medici—Lorenzo de’
Medici’s Advice to his Son—Lorenzo on his Relations with the
Papal Chair—Latter Days of King Louis XI.—His Connection
with Florence—Louis XI. to Lorenzo de’ Medici—The Ring of
S. Zanobi—Extinction of the House of Anjou—Death of Louis
XI.—State of French Affairs after the King’s Death—Anne of
Beaujeu Regent for her Brother Charles VIII.—Opposition of the
Nobles—Anne de Beaujeu and Florence—Efforts of the French against
Maximilian of Austria at the Court of Innocent VIII.—Lorenzo’s
Foresight—Refusal of the Pope 213
CHAPTER IV.
POLITICAL TROUBLES. WAR OF THE BARONS.
The Sarzana Dispute in Presence of Innocent VIII.—Lorenzo de’
Medici in connection with Milan and Siena—Disturbances in
Siena—Political Balance—Political Situation of the Kingdom
of Naples—Ferrante of Arragon—Alfonso of Arragon, Duke of
Calabria—Alliance of the Barons—Capture of Aquila—Outbreak of the
War of the Barons—The Barons, the King, and the Pope—Innocent
VIII., Venice, and the Barons—Neapolitan Affairs and the People
of Florence—Unsettled Position of Affairs—Lorenzo de’ Medici in
Favour of King Ferrante—Lorenzo’s Counsel to the Arragonese 226
CHAPTER V.
EFFECTS OF THE WAR OF THE BARONS. FIGHTING ABOUT SARZANA.
Florence and the Neapolitan Controversy—Archbishop Rinaldo
Orsini—Beginning of the Conflict—Alfonso of Arragon in the
Campagna—Alfonso of Arragon in Pitigliano—Progress of the
War—Battle at Campagnano—Differences of Opinion in Rome—Proposals
for a Treaty—Duke René of Lorraine—Peace between Innocent VIII.
and Naples—Slight Satisfaction of the People of Florence—Roberto
da Sanseverino King Ferrante and the Barons—Effect of the Barons’
War upon the Fortunes of Naples—Lorenzo’s Difficulties and
Despondency—Connection with Naples and Ludovico il Moro—Attack on
Sarzana and Capture of the Town—Ludovico il Moro and Genoa 243
CHAPTER VI.
LORENZO DE’ MEDICI AS MEDIATOR BETWEEN ROME AND NAPLES.
Lorenzo de’ Medici and Innocent VIII.—Affair of Osimo—Boccalino
de’ Guzzoni—Surrender of Osimo—Boccalino in Florence—Boccalino’s
End—House of Medici—Death of Madonna Lucrezia—Maddalena de’
Medici and Franceschetto Cybò—Negotiations with King Ferrante
concerning the Marriage of Maddalena—Life and Character of
Franceschetto Cybò—Fresh Breach between Rome and Naples—Lorenzo
de’ Medici’s Despondency—Negotiations between Innocent VIII.
and King Ferrante—Lorenzo’s Opinion on the Relation of the
Pope to the King, and on the Political Situation—Weakness
of the Pope—Gian. Jac. Trivulzio in Florence—Mission of
Jacopo Gherardi to Florence and Milan—Lorenzo’s Exhortations
to Prudence—Lorenzo’s Instructions for the Negotiation with
Milan—Proposed Basis of Agreement—Illness of Lodovico il Moro 260
CHAPTER VII.
FAMILY EVENTS. MARRIAGES AND DEATHS.
Clarice and Maddalena de’ Medici in Rome—Maddalena’s Marriage
Contract and Dowry—Lorenzo de’ Medici’s Opinion of his
Son-in-Law—Connections of the Medici in Rome—Piero de’ Medici’s
Journey to Rome, and his Marriage—Alfonsina Orsini—Rejoicings
in Florence on the Visit of Franceschetto Cybò—Illness of
Madonna Clarice—Maddalena Cybò in Florence—Death of Clarice
de’ Medici—Her Character—Lorenzo de’ Medici on the Loss of his
Wife—Maddalena Cybò’s Return to Rome—Death of Ippolita Maria,
Duchess of Calabria—The Marriage of Gian Galeazzo Sforza—Piero
de’ Medici in Milan 278
CHAPTER VIII.
DISTURBANCE IN THE ROMAGNA. TUSCAN AND UMBRIAN NEIGHBOURS.
Girolamo Riario in Imola and Forlì—Death of Girolamo
Riario—Catarina Riario Sforza—Disturbances in Forlì—Forlì
remains in the Possession of the Riarii—Dispute about
Piancaldoli—Conflicting Interests in the Affairs of
Romagna—Dissatisfaction against Milan—Faenza and the
Manfredi—Murder of Galeotto Manfredi—Revolt in Faenza—Lorenzo
de’ Medici and Giovanni Bentivoglio, and the Disturbances in
Faenza—Caterina Riario Sforza—Unhappy State of Affairs in the
Romagna—Lorenzo de’ Medici and the Neighbouring States—Piombino
and Siena—State of Parties in Siena—Lorenzo de’ Medici and
Siena—Lorenzo de’ Medici and Lucca—The Connection of Città di
Castello and Perugia—Franceschetto Cybò in Perugia—Lorenzo de’
Medici’s Opinion of Affairs in Perugia—Victory of the Baglioni
Faction in Perugia—Violence of the Factions—Affairs of Ascoli—The
Papal Authority and the Jealousy of Neighbouring States—The
Orsini in connection with the Pope and Naples—Gentil Virginio and
Niccolò Orsini 294
SIXTH BOOK.
_LATER YEARS OF LORENZO DE’ MEDICI’S LIFE._
CHAPTER I.
FLORENTINE STATE AFFAIRS. MATTERS PUBLIC AND FINANCIAL ABOUT 1490.
The Ruling Party and Old Enemies—Albizzi, Soderini,
Pazzi—Francesco Guicciardini’s Description of Florentine
Affairs—Alessandro de’ Pazzi on the Position of Lorenzo de’
Medici—Progressive Personal Authority—Supplications and
Recommendations—Alessandro Farnese—Requests and Compliments of
Foreign Princes—Friends and Dependants of the Medicis—Giovanni
Lanfredini—Lorenzo’s Behaviour towards his Dependants—The
Gonfalonier Neri Cambi—Weakness of the Administration—Committees
for the Choice of Magistrates and for Finance—Reform of the
Coinage and Currency—Finance of the Medicis—Losses of the
Banks—Employment of Public Moneys—Institution for the Dowry of
Daughters—Reduction of the Payments of the Institution—The Bank
in Lyons, and Philippe de Commines—Commines’ Last Letter to
Lorenzo de’ Medici 317
CHAPTER II.
LIFE IN FLORENCE.
Benedetto Dei’s Comparison of Florence and Venice—Description of
Florence in the latter Part of the Fifteenth Century—Industry
and Trade—Interest on Money and Money-Lenders—Mode of Life
of the Higher Classes—Splendour of Festivities—Benedetto
Salutati’s Banquet at Naples—Life in Florence—Town and
Villa—Amusements—Athletic Exercises—Hunting—Plays—Religious
Representations and Processions—The Potenza and
its Growth—Carnavals and Parades—Reaction against
Carnavals—Historical and Mythological Processions—Bartolommeo
Benci’s Carnaval Procession—Buffoonery—Piovano Arlotto—The
Fat Carpenter—Good and Bad of the Social Condition—Benedetto
Varchi’s Description of the People of Florence—System of Family
Life—Distinguished Women—Knighthood—Cavalieri di Popolo—The
Embassies—Splendour of Embassies in the Fifteenth Century 338
CHAPTER III.
HOUSE AND FAMILY OF THE MEDICI.
The Medici as Collectors and Art Patrons—Wealth of the House
of Medici—Traders and their Purchases—The Garden and Casino of
San Marco—The Villas of the Medici—Poggio a Cajano—Lorenzo de’
Medici’s Mode of Life—Meal-times—Grandeur and Simplicity—Visit
of Count Eberhard of Würtemberg—Horses and Races—Hawking—Visits
to Pisa—Agnano and other Estates—Journeys to the Baths—The
Baths of San Filippo and Vignone—Love Affairs—Bartolommeo Nasi
Benci—Embassies and Presents of the Egyptian Sultan—Festal
Reception of Travellers—Companions and Friends at
Home—Lorenzo de’ Medici in Confidential Intercourse—Musical
Entertainments—Antonio degli Organi—Music and Poetry—Piero
and Alfonsina Orsini de’ Medici—Lorenzo’s Daughters—Homely
Appearance—Lorenzo in Jest and in Earnest 366
CHAPTER IV.
GIOVANNI DE’ MEDICI’S CARDINALSHIP.
Innocent VIII. and Franceschetto Cybò—Lorenzo de’ Medici’s
Intercession for Franceschetto—Giovanni de’ Medici and Church
Benefices—The Abbeys of Passignano and Monte Cassino—The Dignity
of Cardinal—Giovanni Lanfredini—Lorenzo’s Impatience at the
Pope’s Hesitation—Giovanni de’ Medici created Cardinal—Rejoicings
in Florence—Lorenzo’s Thanksgiving—Impression made by the
Nomination—Death of Giovanni Lanfredini—Canonisation of
Archbishop Antoninus 394
CHAPTER V.
ISSUE OF THE CONTEST BETWEEN INNOCENT VIII. AND FERRANTE OF
ARAGON.
King Ferrante’s Behaviour towards the Pope—Niccolò Orsini
as Papal Captain-General—Lorenzo de’ Medici on the Quarrel
between Pope and King—Position of Milan and Venice—The Pope’s
Proceedings against the King—Lorenzo de’ Medici’s Proposals—The
Pope on the Interference of Foreign Powers—Ferrante’s Opposition
to an Alliance—French Propositions to the Pope—Innocent
VIII.’s Complaints of the King—Innocent VIII. and Foreign
Countries—Giovanni Pentano on the Agreement of 1486—Neapolitan
Proposals for a Treaty—Peace between the Pope and Naples—French
Affairs—King Ferrante’s Family Troubles—Gian Galeazzo Sforza
and Ludovico il Moro—Breach between Alfonso of Arragon and il
Moro—Neapolitan Embassy to Milan 408
CHAPTER VI.
OPPOSITION TENDENCIES. FRA GIROLAMO SAVONAROLA.
Lorenzo de’ Medici and the Clergy—Girolamo Savonarola in his
Youth—Savonarola’s first Residence in Florence—Fra Mariano
of Genazzano and the Monastery of San Gallo—Fra Mariano and
Lorenzo de’ Medici—Fra Mariano as Preacher—Savonarola’s
increasing Zeal for Teaching—Savonarola as Preacher—Francesco
Guicciardini on Savonarola’s Influence—The Philosophers and
the Monks—Representations of the Medici Circle concerning
Savonarola—Savonarola’s Excesses—Savonarola and Fra Mariano 425
CHAPTER VII.
THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF GIOVANNI DE’ MEDICI’S CARDINALSHIP.
Giovanni de’ Medici in Pisa—Delayed Publication of the Brief
making him Cardinal—Doubtful State of Health of Innocent
VIII.—Publication of the Brief—Festival in the Abbey of Fiesole
and in Florence—Giovanni de’ Medici’s Journey to Rome—Reception
in Rome—Lorenzo’s Letter to his Son the Cardinal 440
CHAPTER VIII.
DEATH OF LORENZO DE’ MEDICI.
Lorenzo de’ Medici’s Illness—Remedy for his Sufferings—Changes
between Better and Worse—Lorenzo’s Intention of transferring his
Affairs to his Son Piero—Political Position—Moral and Religious
Views—Lorenzo’s Advice to his Son—Lorenzo with Angelo Poliziano
and Pico—Savonarola at the Death-bed—Death of Lorenzo de’
Medici—Prodigies and Obsequies—Decree concerning the Position
of Piero de’ Medici—Roman Obsequies—King Ferrante on Lorenzo’s
Death—Innocent VIII. and the House of Sforza—Entombment in San
Lorenzo—Elegy by Angelo Poliziano 453
CONCLUSION.
Lorenzo’s Characteristics—His Public Policy—His Tampering
with the Constitution—His Financial System—Progress
towards Monarchy—Lorenzo’s Son Piero—King Charles VIII. in
Florence—Fruits of Florentine Culture 469
APPENDICES.
I. Chronological Review 477
II. Pedigree of the Medici 483
” ” Pazzi 484
” ” Soderini 485
” ” Visconti and Sforza 486
III. Last Hours of Lorenzo de’ Medici 487
FOURTH BOOK—_continued_
SECOND PART
_TIME OF LORENZO THE MAGNIFICENT._
CHAPTER VI.
LORENZO AS A POET.
IN April 1465, as already stated, Federigo of Aragon, Prince of Naples,
and Lorenzo de’ Medici, then seventeen years old, met at Pisa. A letter
addressed by the young Florentine to his royal friend, probably in
the following year, begins thus:[1] ‘When thou, illustrious Federigo,
didst visit the most ancient city of Pisa, thou didst turn our
conversation to the subject of those who have written poetry in the
Tuscan language, and didst manifest a laudable desire to see all their
works collected by my care. Endeavouring to fulfil thy wishes, I had a
diligent search made for all the old manuscripts, and chose from them
the least imperfect, which I now present to your Highness, arranged in
order in a book which I earnestly desire thee approvingly to accept,
as a token of especial goodwill. Let no one despise this Tuscan tongue
as poor and rude, for he who can rightly estimate its value will find
it rich and well cultivated. There is, indeed, nothing vigorous or
graceful, impressive or ingenious, witty, harmonious, or majestic, of
which examples may not be found in our two greatest poets, Dante and
Petrarca; and after them, by those whom thou, Prince, hast recalled to
life.
‘Petrarca shows in one of his letters that the ancient Romans were
acquainted with rhyme which, after a long interval, revived in Sicily,
spread through France, and was restored to Italy, its original home.
The first who gave our modern poetry its peculiar form of verse were
Guittone of Arezzo and his Bolognese contemporary Guido Guinicello.
They were both well versed in philosophy, and wrote profoundly; but the
first is somewhat harsh and rude, deficient in ornament and eloquence.
The latter, who is far more clear and elegant, was called by Dante
“his father,” and the father of all who write sweet and graceful love
songs. He was unquestionably the first to impress on our beautiful
language that attractive colouring which the bard of Arezzo had but
faintly indicated. After these shone Guido Cavalcanti, one of the
keenest dialecticians and most admirable philosophers of his time.
He was handsome in person, and his writings are to me in the highest
degree attractive; his imagination is rich and wonderfully grand; his
reasoning is weighty; his tone extremely dignified. These qualities
are heightened by the rich charm of a style that sets them off like
a resplendent robe. He needed but a wider field to have attained the
highest honours.
‘Bonagiunta of Lucca and the notary of Lentino must not be overlooked;
but though earnest and weighty writers, they were so destitute of
refined taste, that they must be content to find a place in this
collection of honoured names. Another contemporary of Guittone was
Pier delle Vigne, of whom Dante said that “he had both the keys of
Frederick’s heart.” Only a few short pieces by him remain, and they are
not wanting in depth or earnestness.
‘And now come the two glorious suns that have illuminated our
language—Dante, and he who stands hardly below him, Francesco
Petrarca. In praise of them, silence, to use the words of Sallust
concerning Carthage, is better than halting speech. Greatly in need
of their polish stood Onesto, and the Sicilians who in order of time
preceded them, and who were not without spirit or purpose. Cino of
Pistoja, tender and full of feeling, deserves his reputation. He
was the first, in my opinion, who thoroughly surmounted the antique
roughness which Dante, so admirable in other respects, could not
entirely avoid. A host of writers follow, ranking far below those
I have named. All these of the past, and some of our own time, owe
lasting thanks to thee, O Prince, who hast bestowed on them life, and
light, and fame, acquiring for thyself a claim to greater renown than
that of the Athenian Peisistratos, who rescued from oblivion the lays
of Homer. He restored life to one; thou hast revived a whole host. At
the end of the book, as it seemed not unpleasing to thee, I have added
some sonnets and canzoni of my own, that when thou readest them, my
goodwill and affection may be vividly recalled to thy mind. Though in
themselves unworthy of a place beside the admirable works of the past,
it may be useful to set them side by side for a comparison which can
but enhance the perfections of the latter. Pray take then, O Prince,
not only into thine house, but into thy heart and mind, both them and
me, even as thou abidest a welcome guest in my heart and soul.’
Thus wrote Lorenzo de’ Medici apparently in 1466. On a subsequent
occasion, in a gloss on his own poems such as it was the custom then
for an author himself or some of his friends to write, he gave his
opinion on the much-disputed question of the value of the vulgar tongue
as the language of poetry. ‘If we want,’ he wrote, ‘to prove the
worth of our language, we need only apply this test: does it express
with ease all our thoughts and all our feelings? Nothing can be more
satisfactory than the answer given us by experience. Our countrymen
Dante, Petrarca, and Boccaccio, have in their verses and discourses,
whether grave or gay, proved clearly that every thought and feeling
finds easy and natural expression in this tongue of ours. Whoever reads
the “Commedia” sees various questions of theology and nature discussed
with as much skill as success. He finds there the three degrees of
style specified by orators—the simple, the florid, and the sublime,
nay, more—Dante in himself presents a union of all the qualities which
Greek and Latin writers display separately. Who again can deny the
warmth, tenderness, and gaiety of Boccaccio? In his love poems he shows
a mingled grace and fervour that neither Ovid, Tibullus, Propertius nor
Catullus have equalled. Dante’s pithy sonnets and canzoni are scarcely
surpassed by anything in prose or verse, and the readers of Boccaccio,
whose learning was as great as the polish of his style, must admit that
in him the faculty of invention contends with the variety and eloquence
of his language. Any one who examines his “Decameron” with its endless
diversity of subject, its descriptions of every conceivable situation
produced by love and hate, hope or fear; its exhibition of countless
intrigues and artifices; its characteristic representation of diverse
natures, and its expression of every passion, will be convinced that
for all this no language can be better adapted than our own. It is not
the language that has been unfavourable to writers, but there has
been a dearth of authors who could use it. To any one with a little
practice, it is full of power, harmony, and grace. It appears to me
richly endowed with all that constitutes the excellence of a language,
and I am persuaded that a knowledge of what has been written in it is
not only useful but necessary—more especially the works of Dante,
which are both solid and profound. The commentaries of learned men on
the “Commedia” bear witness to this no less than the allusions made
to the work from the pulpit. We may look forward to the appearance
of other excellent works in this language, which still preserves its
freshness and is growing in elegance and copiousness. A prospect of
still greater perfection is before it, should the dominion of Florence
be extended, a thing not merely to be hoped but to be striven for by
our gallant citizens with all their energies of body and mind. Though
such a consummation cannot positively be predicted, since it depends on
fate and the will of God, yet it is within the limits of possibility.
For the present the following conclusion is enough. Our native speech
has all the excellencies of a language in abundance, and we ought not
to be dissatisfied with it, nor ought any one to blame me for writing
in a tongue to which I was born and in which I was educated. Hebrew
and Latin originally were no more than vulgar tongues, yet those who
hold an honoured place in literature cultivated them to a degree of
perfection that was never attained by the mass of the people.’
These remarks, which are followed by others on the sonnet and on Tuscan
rhythm and metre, show that from his youth up Lorenzo de’ Medici
thought much of the nature and history of the language of his country.
His poems opened out no new path, but served with those of many among
his contemporaries to give more freedom and grace of movement to the
language, more facility for applying it to manifold aims and objects,
and a richer variety of idiomatic forms. His masterly handling of
the language was equalled by his command of versification. Harshness
he has, and that force which will not avoid a difficulty. Nor is he
wanting in archaic forms and illegitimate turns of expression, while
he has echoes of the artificial manner which in the poet’s youth
was regarded as modern classicism. We do not always meet with the
refinement of ear, accuracy of taste, and fulness of harmony, which
give such importance to his contemporary Poliziano, and mark him
as the true leader of the great literary movement of the fifteenth
century, a movement which, in its last decade, put an end to a state
of things in which it is hard to say whether stagnation or perverted
energy was the worst feature. Nevertheless, Lorenzo de’ Medici takes
a conspicuous and peculiar place in this movement. Had he been only a
literary man, he would have shone as such. As in his whole character,
so also as a poet, is he the true representative of his time, a time
that strove with pious care to restore the old, while it joyfully
if doubtfully anticipated the opening of new vistas and formed the
threshold between two great epochs, the blending of the sunset and
the dawn. Lorenzo de’ Medici, while rightly estimating the character
of the literature of Dante’s age, and perceiving that it and not the
pedantry of the humanistic poets contained life and hope for the
future, was, nevertheless, still influenced by the great fact of the
first half of his century, the revival of classical culture. Even
when he most nearly approaches the lyric poets who preceded him, it
is not in imitation, like Bembo’s imitation of Petrarca. Even when
Dante or Guido Cavalcanti, with their subtle dissection of feelings,
partaking somewhat of the character of scholasticism, and their habit
of treating even earthly things with a certain unearthly solemnity
of tone, have been most evidently his guiding lights—still, through
all, there pierces a spirit which could only have been aroused by the
contact of modes of thought derived from the antique with modern life
and experience, and by a direct knowledge of the creations of Hellenic
genius, which to the fathers of Italian poetry were sealed books,
whose very titles were unknown to most of them.
Lorenzo de’ Medici is no imitator of Petrarca, although echoes of
Petrarca and even, through the latter, of the poetry of the Troubadours
occur frequently in his compositions. But, apart from other details,
he has one conspicuous trait in common with Petrarca—a quick sense of
the beauties of nature. The hermit of Vaucluse and Arquà is, of all
modern poets, the first to whom nature seems to have been especially
revealed in her inner life and in the impression which she makes on the
feelings; for in Dante it is rather the historical character of the
landscape and the plasticity of sharply defined individual phenomena
which come out most strongly. Like Petrarca, he who dwelt in the Tuscan
villas and among the wooded Apennines found in nature an inexhaustible
fountain whence flowed forth an ever-fresh stream of forms and images
clothed in the most varied and brilliant colours. The richness and
freshness of his treatment proves how quick were his eyes to receive
and his mind to realise such impressions. He delighted to consecrate
to the mental and moral refreshment of a residence in the country the
hours and days which he could steal from his varied and often vexatious
cares and occupations. If his poetic descriptions did not sufficiently
declare it, his whole life would furnish a proof that there was in him
not merely an active fancy, but an actual need, as well as a true and
quick apprehension of nature. He has shown in the ‘Selve d’amore,’ and
in the idyl of ‘Ambra,’ what were his powers of describing nature,
not merely in the illustration of thoughts and feelings, but as an
independent picture complete in itself.
The greater part of his sonnets and canzoni consists, as may be
imagined, of love poems. But the individualising characteristics of his
poetry save them from the monotony usually inseparable from this style;
for where there is no variety of tone, there is a variety of situation
and colouring. The lover and poet is with Lorenzo always a disciple of
philosophy, and the subject of his poems, decked in all the brilliant
colours of fancy, retreats into the background infinitely more than
with the great poets of the Trecento. In reading Lorenzo’s poems, one
gives little more than a passing thought to Lucrezia Donati, whose name
even is revealed to us only by the poet’s friends. Beatrice and Madonna
Laura have been the objects of careful historical research—scarcely
any one has troubled himself about the fair Florentine, sprung from a
race whose name filled the history of the city when that of Medici was
still unknown. The reason is not merely that Lucrezia’s bard was no
Dante or Petrarca, and that his poetry, however fresh and genuine, and
however important as completing a character unique in its way, yet held
but a secondary place in the mind and life of Lorenzo de’ Medici; but
the ideal creation threatens to swallow up the personality. The story
connected with the beautiful girl lying on the bier, in which the poet
sets forth how he sought and found a worthy object for his affection,
sufficiently indicates that he rather transferred to this object what
had already assumed a living shape in his own mind than received his
impulse from it. To the greatest of Italy’s poets the angel-bride of
his early youth became the ideal in which all his thoughts and feelings
were wrapt up; the ideal stood before the eyes of Lorenzo de’ Medici
before he knew her whose form he clothed in the magic of spiritualised
desire.
The disciple of the Platonic philosophy, giving a description of
his beloved one in the commentary on his sonnets,[2] thus declares
himself in his definition of the nature of love. ‘Whoever seeks the
true definition of love, will find that it consists in the desire
for beauty. This being so, whatever is ugly repels him who truly and
worthily loves. The beauty of the countenance and soul of our beloved
one impels us to seek beauty in other things; to rise to that virtue
which is beauty on earth as in heaven, and to reach at length the
highest beauty—the Divinity, our final goal and resting-place. The
necessary conditions of a true, worthy, and elevated love, appear to
me to be two: first, that the object shall be one, then that the love
shall be constant. It is not given to all to fulfil these conditions,
seeing that but few women possess the lofty power of attaching men
so entirely to themselves that they shall never offend against
the two conditions without which there is no true love.’ But his
philosophical view of life and human happiness is contained in a longer
poem in terza rima, (‘L’Altercazione’), in which Marsilio Ficino is
personally introduced as teacher, and decides between the poet and his
interlocutor. The former has left the tumult of the city, the confusion
of party politics, the throng of the market, to bring his soul to a
haven of rest, a life free and secure from anxiety, in the solitude
of the country. He describes what he seeks and hopes to find in this
retreat to the shepherd whom he meets; the latter points out to him the
toils and troubles of his humble lot, and how he drags on day after
day beneath ever-renewing cares. Then Marsilio comes to place in their
true light the worth and the worthlessness of sublunary things; to show
how happiness depends neither on the high position of the one nor the
lowly station of the other, but is to be found in the knowledge and
love of the Author of all things. As may be seen from this sketch of
its contents, the poem contains nothing original, but it is pleasing
from its life-like description of contrasts, and interesting as a token
of the earnest self-introspection of a richly and variously endowed
mind.[3]
The three idyls which we possess of Lorenzo de’ Medici are so many
witnesses to the many-sidedness of his genius. The first, ‘Corinto’
(the name of the shepherd who sings his love), resembles the eclogues
of the ancients, which were soon to become the models of so many
writers, and especially of Sannazaro. Following the precedent of
Boccaccio, it is in terza rima, a metre better suited to a series of
narratives and descriptions than to a subject in which the lyrical
element preponderates. ‘Nencia da Barberino’ is pure nature—in some
parts severe nature, with a rich vein of quaint humour and a charming
local colour. It is an idyl in eight-lined stanzas, redolent of Tuscan
soil, describing the Tuscan people, their manners and modes of speech,
with a succession of apostrophes, eulogies, and comparisons, including
some that are strange enough. Such are the so-called _rispetti_,—those
songs of the people, especially country people, which sometimes in
their fantastic flights soar up to the sun and stars, and sometimes
borrow their similes from the humblest things. Lorenzo has, in fact,
here put together a whole poem of _rispetti_, in which the serious
and the comic alternate, and through the mouth of a lover has applied
to one rustic beauty what would have sufficed for a whole bevy of
maidens. These _rispetti_ are evidently learned from the people, who
to this day produce thousands of these half-lyric, half-epigrammatic
songs, particularly in the hill-country of Pistoja, for, as an old
proverb says, ‘the mountaineers have thick shoes and fine brains.’[4]
They are to be heard also in other parts of the Florentine and Sienese
dominions, as far as the Maremma, from whence they extend into the
Roman Campagna. Some of the rustic verses are peculiar to the poet, who
exercises himself freely in a style that permits great variety, and who
rivals the people among whom he mingles in fantastic flights and quaint
similes, producing a somewhat motley but richly coloured and life-like
picture. Luigi Pulci has furnished a companion piece to ‘Nencia.’
Poliziano, without confining himself to a special subject, has also
tried his hand at these little songs, which seem to flow spontaneously
from Tuscan pens, and form a branch of literature highly important in
its relation to the character of the people.
While in ‘Nencia’ the popular and burlesque element prevails, the
third of these idyls, ‘Ambra,’ belongs to the province of mythology.
Its importance lies far less in the story itself—one of the oft-told
tales after the Ovidian pattern—than in the grand descriptions of
nature to which the fable gives rise. The scene is the villa of Poggio
a Cajano, on the decoration of which the princely owner bestowed so
much trouble and expense, the results of his work being repeatedly
destroyed by the overflow of the Ombrone in its descent from the
Pistojan mountains to the level ground around the low hill on which
Cajano stood. A small islet in the river bore the name of Ambra,
which was transferred to the villa itself. The dykes raised for its
defence did not fulfil Poliziano’s hope that the stream would spare the
flower-garden. In the poem, Ambra is the nymph beloved by the shepherd
Lauro. Her charms, seen when bathing, attract the river god, and she
only escapes from his wild pursuit by the help of Diana, who, at her
entreaty, changes her into a rock, on which the villa is then built. As
in ‘Nencia’ the ottava rima adapts itself to a burlesque and popular
subject, so here it developes a surprising power in descriptions of the
natural occurrences that caused the destruction of the pleasant rustic
dwelling, and of the events which are made to precede them.
As ‘Ambra’ inclines to the descriptive, so does another little poem
in eight-line stanzas called ‘The Hawking Party’ (‘La Caccia con
Falcone’), a lively picture of a universally favourite pastime to
which our poet was almost passionately addicted. The fresh morning
on which the party sets out, the adventures and intermezzos on the
way, the rivalry and excitement of the huntsmen, the manœuvres of the
chase, with the birds and dogs, carefully trained, yet not always to
be relied on, the return in midday heat, and the cheerful meal, which
reconciles the tired disputants and brings the day to a close,—all
this is described with the most vivid reality, and with an amount of
detail that could only come from an initiated sportsman. We are in the
midst of the cheerful company that crowded around the gay and stately
young man. For the poem dates some time before the year 1478, as is
proved by the circumstance that Lorenzo’s brother-in-law, Guglielmo
de’ Pazzi, is one of the chief persons present, together with Luigi
Pulci, Foglia Amieri, Dionigi Pucci, and several others less easy to
distinguish by name. A whole stanza is taken up with the names of the
falcons, the number of which shows that this was indeed a princely
hunt, such as often took place at Pisa or Poggio a Cajano.
The poem in terza rima which bears the name of ‘I Beoni’ (‘The
Drinkers’), or ‘Simposio,’ resembles the ‘Nencia’ and the ‘Hawking
Party’ in so far as it describes Florentine and Tuscan manners. In
rhythm, tone, and manner, it is very different from the others; for
although in ‘Nencia’ peasant life sometimes receives a burlesque
covering, the poem never becomes satire, nor sinks to that degree of
low comedy which degenerates into vulgarity. This, however, is the
case in the ‘Beoni,’ a series of chapters in which the poet describes
the manners and adventures of a company of jolly fellows, whom he
meets near Porta Faenza as he is returning from Careggi, at the moment
when they are setting out for Ponte a Rifredi, a little place about a
mile away from the town, and which takes its name from a bridge over
the little stream Terzolle. The business of the company is to taste
a cask of wine which they have heard highly praised. The poem is not
wanting in humour, and offers a lively picture of convivial rather
than social manners, such as long existed in Tuscany, and of which we
possess many literary monuments. Although unfinished, it is long, and
monotonous in spite of the variety of its situations; its dry comedy
often degenerates into downright coarseness, such as might lead to
very unfavourable conclusions with regard to the morals even of the
higher classes and the clergy, who in part are represented here. ‘I
Beoni’ makes an unpleasant impression from another point of view.
Not only is the metre that of the most sublime poems in the Italian
language; the outward arrangement of the poem, as well as a number of
particular turns, are burlesque imitations of the great poets. This is
a proof of keen observation, of wonderful and many-sided power; but
it has a darker side. If we are to recognise in this production the
beginning of Italian satire, we can all the more justly measure the
distance between these ‘chapters’ and those brilliant mirrors of the
time which immediately followed that of Lorenzo de’ Medici—the satires
of Lodovico Ariosto.
Like the ‘Beoni,’ the dance-songs (‘Canzoni a ballo’) and the songs of
the carnival (‘Canti carnascialeschi’), especially the latter, often
pass the limits which separate social gaiety from burlesque and satire.
Yet the nature and object of these songs demand the predominance of the
lyrical element. The dance songs are explained by the old traditional
customs of the Tuscan people, and Lorenzo did but follow examples
furnished by the age of Dante; examples differing in character of all
degrees, from the grave and sententious to the popular and comic. The
musical accompaniment, in which popular old tunes alternate with later
compositions, naturally influences the form of these songs; but the
poet handles the form with the greatest ease, and knows how to give to
metre and rhyme a variety that corresponds with the changes of mood,
and prevents the monotony which the matter and subject might produce.
For the subject is love and its enjoyments, in which the sensual and
humorous preponderate. Here prevails the sway of that epicureanism
which sees in the material satisfaction of our desire for enjoyment the
solution of the problem of life, which regards as lost the time spent
on all else, snaps its fingers at a severe moral judgment, and ends
in outspoken nihilism, mocking even at love and happiness. The sum of
worldly wisdom here taught is—enjoy yourself as much as you can, and
lose no time about it; it is not the action that matters, but only
that it should not reach the ears of those who would be sure to give
it a bad name; ill-will and the conflict of interests bring blame, not
things in themselves. Even more clearly than in the dance-songs is this
cynicism seen in the ‘Lays of the Carnival,’ which, like the former,
are intended for choruses, mostly with alternate parts.
The following pages, which treat of the manners of the time, will
describe the bacchanals, which were not new in Florence, but which
Lorenzo de’ Medici increased, and not merely for the humour of the
thing, to a degree that has cast on his memory a reflection which
an exact comparison of the poet’s circumstances with the past would
hardly justify. The abundant imagination and many-sided wit of these
gay compositions may be admired, but, even were the licence less, it
would be impossible to take real pleasure in them when once the purpose
underlying them is perceived. Such songs were traditional in Florence
and other places, as were also the people’s carnival societies, of
which Lorenzo made use for his popular festivals, and for which he
wrote even in the days of his highest authority—perhaps even more
especially then. To these songs the accomplished choir-master of San
Giovanni, the German Heinrich Isaak, commonly called Arrigo Tedesco,
composed melodies for three voices. Even before the event which
exercised so great and injurious an influence on life and morals—the
plague of 1348—songs were openly sung, the levity and revolting
coarseness of which contrasted strangely with the pious canticles which
resounded in the evening before the image of the Madonna and other
shrines. The ‘Decameron’ refers to them, and the Chronicles of Modena
give us the beginning of a drinking-song which bears witness to the
confusion of tongues that had arisen, probably among the mercenary
bands: ‘Trinche gote Malvasie—mi non biver oter vin.’ The poems
destined for singing increase in number from the fourteenth century
onwards.[5] Lorenzo only perfected in form, rendered more significant,
and finally turned to account for other purposes, what he found ready
in the life of the people. A greater contrast to these frivolous
productions than even his wanderings on the heights of speculation,
his effusions of philosophic poetry and tender aspiring sentiment, is
offered by the poems on religious subjects, of which Lorenzo found
examples in his own family. The mystery-play, ‘Rappresentazione dei
SS. Giovanni e Paolo,’ composed, according to the prologue spoken by
the angel of the Annunciation, for the brotherhood of San Giovanni,
is said to have been acted at the festivities which celebrated the
marriage of Maddalena de’ Medici. It is certain that Lorenzo’s son,
Giuliano, then just ten, and perhaps also Piero, took part with other
youths and boys of noble houses in the representation held by the said
company in 1489. The legend of Constantia, daughter of Constantine the
Great, who was said to have been cured of leprosy at the tomb of St.
Agnes on the Nomentan Way, and that of the martyrs John and Paul, who
suffered death in Rome on the Cœlian, are here blended with the story
of the division of the empire among Constantine’s sons, of the reign
of Julian the Apostate, and his death in the Parthian war, and formed
into a whole in which strange confusion and leaps from one subject to
another do not prevent much poetical beauty and moral and political
teaching. Like other earlier and contemporary pieces of this kind, it
is more lyric than dramatic; in particular it has no dramatic unity.
But if the dramatic element is weak, the historical character of one
of the two chief persons, the Emperor Julian, shows an accuracy of
conception which, with regard to this prince, must have been rare
at that period. In this respect Lorenzo’s drama commands an interest
far superior to that which we take in most productions of this class.
Since the statue of Victory was taken away from the Curia—so speaks
the Emperor—success no longer crowns the Roman arms, which once
subdued the world. Only by returning to our old gods can we recall
victory to our standards. But the object is not to be attained by this
alone, or by taking from the Christians wealth and goods which should
be forbidden them by the teachings of their own faith. The head of
the empire must again command the old reverence, and this cannot be
if the ruler hands over the cares of government to others, while he
heaps up treasure and thinks only of amusement. If he is rich, his
riches are but lent him to share with his people, and relieve necessity
wherever he finds it. Power and property belong not to him, but to the
community; he is the steward who has the satisfaction and the glory of
distributing to others what fate has placed in his hands.
Julian is a man of energy, conscious of the extent and difficulty of
his task; Constantine in his old age is the representative of the
melancholy which overcomes him, who feels that the burden of government
has become too heavy for his shoulders. Who knows whether the poet is
not drawing from the experience of his own heart when he puts into
the mouth of his hero the description of the labours and dangers of
sovereignty, which wear out body and soul, while others see in it the
height of happiness, never reflecting that _they_ can sleep while one
is watching who holds the scales in his hand, to whom all eyes are
turned; who lives not for himself, but for others, who must be the
servant of servants:
How often does the man that envies me
Not know that happier far than I is he.
Strange contrasts of height and depth there were in this
man—contradictions in his life as well as in his poetry. Like his
mother, he tried his hand on spiritual songs, and his hymns of praise
display an individuality and fulness of conception wanting to other
compositions of this kind which perhaps surpass his in freshness and
simplicity. Besides songs in which the teachings of Platonism give a
peculiar colouring to the faith of the Church, we find others in which
the tone of the older hymns to Mary has been successfully adopted.
If these lauds have not the same ardently soaring strain as those of
Benivieni; still we can well imagine that they were sung alternately
with the latter when the opposition to the worldly spirit encouraged by
their author had gained the victory. This, too, is one of the contrasts
which abound in the history of Lorenzo de’ Medici. The lauds give us
a deep insight into his mind. They are, in some degree, the agonised
cry of a soul which, instead of finding satisfaction in the glory and
splendour, the wealth and enjoyments of the world, is repelled by its
emptiness, and feels driven further and further away from the highest
good, of which the love once kindled within it had grown cold amid the
cares and pleasures of this life:
Thou seekest life where nought hath living breath;
Thou seekest joy where nought avails save death.