"There was an elderly man, a very good, kind-hearted, wise person, who
was gentle and gay with every one, and much beloved by his servants,
because they always found him _buono ed allegro_--pleasant and jolly.
And often when with them while they were at their work, he would say,
'_Felice voi poveri_!'--'Oh, how lucky you are to be poor!' And they
would reply to him, singing in the old Tuscan fashion, because they knew
it pleased him:
"'O caro Signor, you have gold in store,
With all to divert yourself;
Your bees make honey, you've plenty of money,
And victuals upon the shelf:
A palace you have, and rich attire,
And everything to your heart's desire.'
"Then he would reply merrily:
"'My dear good folk, because you are poor
You are my friends, and all the more,
For the poor are polite to all they see,
And therefore blessed be Poverty!'
"Then a second servant sang:
"'Oh bello gentile mio Signor',
Your praise of poverty 'd soon be o'er
If you yourself for a time were poor;
For nothing to eat, and water to drink,
Isn't so nice as you seem to think,
And a lord who lives in luxury
Don't know the pressure of poverty.'
"Then all would laugh, and the jolly old lord would sing in his turn:
"'O charo servitor',
Tu parli tanto bene,
Ma il tuo parlar
A me non mi conviene.' . . .
"'My boy, you answer well,
But with false implication;
For what to me you tell
Has no true application;
How oft I heard you say
(You know 'tis true, you sinner!)
"I am half-starved to-day,
How I'll enjoy my dinner!"
Your hunger gives you health
And causes great delight,
While I with all my wealth
Have not an appetite.'
"Then another servant sang, laughing:
"'Dear master, proverbs say,
I have heard them from my birth,
That of all frightful beasts
Which walk upon the earth,
Until we reach the bier,
Wherever man may be,
There's nothing which we fear
So much as poverty.'
"And so one evening as they were merrily improvising and throwing
_stornelli_ at one another in this fashion, the Signore went to his
street-door, and there beheld three ladies of stately form; for though
they were veiled and dressed in the plainest black long robes, it was
evident that they were of high rank. Therefore the old lord saluted them
courteously, and seeing that they were strangers, asked them whither they
were going. But he had first of all had them politely escorted by his
servants into his best reception-room. {3a}
"And the one who appeared to be the chief replied:
"'Truly we know not where we shall lodge, for in all Florence there is, I
trow, not a soul who, knowing who we are would receive us.'
"'And who art thou, lady?' asked the Signore. And she replied:
"'Io mi chiamo, e sono,
La Poverta in persona,
E queste due donzelle,
Sono le mie sorelle,
Chi voi non conoscete
La Fame e la Sete!'
"'I am one whom all throw curse on.
I am Poverty in person;
Of these ladies here, the younger
Is my sister, known as Hunger,
And the third, who's not the worst,
Is dreaded still by all as Thirst.'
"'Blessed be the hour in which ye entered my house!' cried the Signore,
delighted. 'Make yourselves at home, rest and be at ease as long as you
like--_sempre sarei benglieto_.'
"'And why are you so well disposed towards me?' inquired Poverty.
"'Because, lady, I am, I trust, sufficiently wise with years and
experience to know that everything must not be judged from the surface.
Great and good art thou, since but for thee the devil a beggar in the
world would ever move a finger to do the least work, and we should all be
in mouldy green misery. Well hath it been said that 'Need makes the old
woman trot,' {3b} and likewise that _Poverta non guasta
gentilezza_--'Poverty doth not degrade true nobility,' as I can perceive
by thy manner, O noble lady. Thou, Poverty, art the mother of Industry,
and grandmother of Wealth, Health, and Art; thou makest all men work; but
for thee there would be no harvests, yea, all the fine things in the
world are due to Want.'
"'And I?' said Dame Hunger. 'Dost thou also love me?'
"'_Si_, _Dio ti benedicha_!' replied the Signore. '_La fame ghastiga il
ghiotto_'--'Hunger corrects gluttony.
"'Hunger causes our delight,
For it gives us appetite;
For dainties without hunger sent
Form a double punishment.'
'Hunger is the best sauce.' Thou makest men bold, for _chane affamato
non prezza bastone_--a hungry dog fears no stick. Thou makest the
happiness of every feast.'
"'_Ed io_, _Signore_?' said Thirst. 'Hast thou also a good word for me?'
"'_A Dio_, _grazie_! God be praised that thou art. For without thee I
should have no wine. Nor do men speak in pity of any one when they say
in a wine-shop, "He is thirsty enough to drink up the Arno." I remember
a Venetian who once said, coming to a feast, "I would not take five gold
_zecchini_ for this thirst which I now have." And to sum it all up, I
find that poverty with want to urge it is better than wealth without
power to enjoy, and, taking one with another, the poor are honester and
have better hearts than the rich.'
"'Truly thou art great,' replied Poverty. '_Gentile_, _buono_, _e
galantuomo a parlare_--gentle, good, and noble in thy speech. In such
wise thou wilt ever be rich, for as thou art rich thou art good and
charitable. And thou hast well said that Plenty comes from us, and it is
we who truly own the horn of plenty; and therefore take from me this horn
as a gift, and while thou livest be as rich as thou art good and wise!'
"'And I,' said Hunger, 'give thee another, and while it is thine thou
shalt never want either a good appetite nor the means to gratify it. For
thou hast seen the truth that I was not created to starve men to death,
but to keep them from starving.'
"'And I,' said Thirst, 'give thee a third horn of plenty; that is, plenty
of wine and temperate desire--_e buon pro vi faccia_. Much good may it
do you!'
"Saying this they vanished, and he would have thought it all a dream but
for the three horns which they left behind them. So he had a long life
and a happy, and in gratitude to his benefactresses he placed on his
shield three horns, as men may see them to this day."
* * * * *
When I received this legend, I did not know that the three horns on a
shield form the coat of arms of Messer Guicciardini, the historian, nor
had I ever seen them. It happened by pure chance I went one day with my
wife and Miss Roma Lister, who is devoted to folk-lore, to make my first
visit to Sir John Edgar at his home, the celebrated old mediaeval
palazzo, the Villa Guicciardini, Via Montugli.
On the way we passed the Church of the Annunciata, and while driving by I
remarked that there were on its wall, among many shields, several which
had on them a _single_ hunting-horn, but that I had never seen three
together, but had heard of such a device, and was very anxious to find
it, and learn to what family it belonged.
What was my astonishment, on arriving at the villa or palazzo, at
beholding on the wall in the court a large shield bearing the three
horns. Sir John Edgar informed me that it was the shield of the
Guicciardini family, who at one time inhabited the mansion. I related to
him the story, and he said, "I should think that tale had been invented
by some one who knew Guicciardini, the author, very well, for it is
perfectly inspired with the spirit of his writings. It depicts the man
himself as I have conceived him."
Then we went into the library, where my host showed me Fenton's
translation of the "History" of Guicciardini and his "Maxims" in Italian,
remarking that the one which I have placed as motto to this chapter was
in fact an epitome of the whole legend.
I should observe, what did not before occur to me, that the family palace
of the Guicciardini is in the Via Guicciardini, nearly opposite to the
house of Machiavelli, and that it is there that the fairies probably
called, if it was in the winter-time.