"His mood was choleric, and his tongue was vicious,
But he was praised for singleness of heart,
Nor taxed as avaricious or ambitious;
Affectionate and frank, and void of art;
A lover of his friends and unsuspicious;
And where he hated knew no middle part:
And men his malice and his love might rate;
But then he was more prone to love than hate.
"To paint his person,--this was thin and dry;
Well sorting it, his legs were spare and lean;
Broad was his visage, and his nose was high,
While narrow was the space that was between
His eyebrows; sharp and blue his hollow eye,
Which, buried in his beard, had not been seen,
But that the master kept this thicket cleared.
At mortal war with moustache and with beard."
No one ever detested servitude as he did, though servitude was still his
dole. He then whimsically describes himself as inhabiting the palace of
a fairy; where, according to Bajardo, people are kept happily and
merrily, amusing themselves, and passing their lives in indolence. Berni
supposes himself to be one of the company, together with a French cook,
Maitre Pierre Buffet, who had been in the service of Giberti; and he
describes his beau-ideal of the indolent life he loved. Tired with
noise, lights, and music, he finds a lonely room, and causes the
servants to bring a bed into it,--a large bed,--in which he might
stretch himself at pleasure; and, finding his friend the cook, another
bed is brought into the same room for him, and between the two a table
was placed: this table was well supplied with the most savoury viands:--
"But soup and syrup pleased the Florentine (_Berni_),
Who loathed fatigue like death; and for his part,
Brought neither teeth nor fingers into play,
But made two varlets feed him as he lay.
"Here couchant, nothing but his head was spied,
Sheeted and quilted to the very chin;
And needful food a serving man supplied
Through pipe of silver placed the mouth within.
Meanwhile the sluggard moved no part beside,
Holding all motion else mere shame and sin:
And (so his spirits and his health were broke),
Not to fatigue this organ, seldom spoke."
"The cook was Master Peter hight, and he
Had tales at will to wile away the day;
To him the Florentine:--'Those fools, pardie,
Have little wit, who dance that endless way.'
And Peter in return: 'I think with thee.'
Then with some merry story back'd the say,
Swallowed a mouthful, and turned round in bed,
And so, by starts, talked, turned, and slept, and fed."
* * * *
"Above all other curses, pen and ink
Were by the Tuscan held in hate and scorn,
Who, worse than any loathsome sight or stink,
Detested pen and paper, ink and horn.
So deeply did a deadly venom sink,
So fester'd in his flesh a rankling thorn,
While, night and day, with heart and garments rent,
Seven weary years the wretch in writing spent.
"Of all their ways to baffle time and tide,
This seems the strangest of their waking dreams:
Couched on their backs, the two the rafters eyed,
And taxed their drowsy wits to count the beams.
'T is thus they mark at leisure which is wide,'
Which short, or which of due proportion seems,
And which worm-eaten are, and which are sound,
And if the total sum is odd or round."
This is a specimen of Berni's humour, which gave the name of Bernesco to
poetry of this nature. More serious and more elegant verses abound, as
we have already remarked, and prove that Berni deserves a very high
place among Italian poets.
[Footnote 91: Panizzi.]
[Footnote 92: "Egli avea pien di lagrime la faccia,
E fù smontato in su la terra piana;
Ricolse il Re ferito ne le braccia,
E sopra 'l marmo il pose a la fontana,
E di pianger con seco non si saccia,
Chiedendogli perdon con voce umana.
Poi battezzollo a l' acqua de la fonte,
Pregando Dio per lui con le man gionte.
"Poco poi stette, che l' ebbe trovato
Freddo il viso e tutta la persona;
Onde s'avvide ch' egli era passato.
Sopra al marmor al fonte l'abbondona,
Così com' era tutto quanto armato,
Col brando in mano, e con la sua corona;
E poi verso il destrier fece riguardo,
E pargli di veder che sia Bajardo."
_Orlando Inn. da Bojardo_, lib. I. can. XIX. stan. 16, 17.]
[Footnote 93: "Piena avendo di lagrime la faccia
Scende di Brigliadoro in terra il Conte,
Recasi il Rè ferito nelle braccia
E ponlo su la sponda della fonte;
E pregando, lo bacia, e stretto abbraccia,
Che l'ingiurie passate siano sconte,
Non potendo dir sì, china il Re il collo,
E Orlando con l'acqua battezzano.
"E poichè finalmente gli ha trovato
Il viso freddo, e tutta la persona,
Onde il giudica tutto trapassato,
Par sopra quella sponda l' abbandona.
Così com era tutto quanto armato,
Col brando in mano, e con la sua corona:
Poi verso il suo cavai volto lo sguardo
Gli par raffigurar, che sia Bajardo."
_Orlando Inn. rifatto da Berni_, can. XIX. stan. 19, 20.]