The hero of Ravenna lies stretched upon his back in the hollow of a bier
covered with laced drapery; and his head rests on richly ornamented
cushions. These decorative accessories, together with the minute work of
his scabbard, wrought in the fanciful mannerism of the _cinquecento_,
serve to enhance the statuesque simplicity of the young soldier's
effigy. The contrast between so much of richness in the merely
subordinate details and this sublime severity of treatment in the person
of the hero is truly and touchingly dramatic. There is a smile, as of
content in death, upon his face; and the features are exceedingly
beautiful--with the beauty of a boy, almost of a woman. The heavy hair
cut straight above the forehead and straight over the shoulders, falling
in massive clusters. A delicately sculptured laurel-branch is woven into
a victor's crown and laid lightly on the tresses it scarcely seems to
clasp. So fragile is this wreath that it does not break the pure outline
of the boy-conqueror's head. The armor is quite plain. So is the
surcoat. Upon the swelling bust, that seems fit harbor for a hero's
heart, there lies the collar of an order composed of cockle-shells; and
this is all the ornament given to the figure. The hands are clasped
across a sword laid flat upon the breast, and placed between the legs.
Upon the chin is a little tuft of hair, parted, and curling either way;
for the victor of Ravenna like the Hermes of Homer, was +proton
hypenetes+, "a youth of princely blood, whose beard hath just begun to
grow, for whom the season of bloom is in its prime of grace." The whole
statue is the idealization of _virtu_--that quality so highly prized by
the Italians and the ancients, so well fitted for commemoration in the
arts. It is the apotheosis of human life resolved into undying memory
because of one great deed. It is the supreme portrait in modern times of
a young hero, chiselled by artists belonging to a race no longer heroic,
but capable of comprehending and expressing the aesthetic charm of
heroism. Standing before it, we may say of Gaston what Arrian wrote to
Hadrian of Achilles: "That he was a hero, if hero ever lived, I cannot
doubt; for his birth and blood were noble, and he was beautiful, and his
spirit was mighty, and he passed in youth's prime away from men."
Italian sculpture, under the condition of the _cinquecento_, had indeed
no more congenial theme than this of bravery and beauty, youth and
fame, immortal honor and untimely death; nor could any sculptor of death
have poetized the theme more thoroughly than Agostino Busti, whose
simple instinct, unlike that of Michael Angelo, led him to subordinate
his own imagination to the pathos of reality.