GUIDO CAVALCANTI AND MANDETTA,
CINO DA PISTOJA AND SELVAGGIA.
Amatory poetry was transmitted from the Provencals to the Italians and
Sicilians, among whom the language of the Troubadours had long been
cultivated, and their songs imitated, but in style yet more affected and
_recherche_. Few of the Italian poets who preceded Dante, are
interesting even in a mere literary point of view: of these only one or
two have shed a reflected splendour round the object of their adoration.
Guido Cavalcanti, the Florentine, was the early and favourite friend of
Dante: being engaged in the factions of his native city, he was forced
on some emergency to quit it; and to escape the vengeance of the
prevailing party, he undertook a pilgrimage to Sant Jago. Passing
through Tolosa, he fell in love with a beautiful Spanish girl, whom he
has celebrated under the name of _Mandetta_:
In un boschetto trovai pastorella
Piu che la stella bella al mio parere,
Capegli avea biondetti e ricciutelli.
Some of his songs and ballads have considerable grace and nature; but
they were considered by himself as mere trifles. His grand work on which
his fame long rested, is a "Canzone sopra l'Amore," in which the subject
is so profoundly and so philosophically treated, that seven voluminous
commentaries in Latin and Italian have not yet enabled the world to
understand it.
The following Sonnet is deservedly celebrated for the consummate beauty
of the picture it resents, and will give a fair idea of the platonic
extravagance of the time.
Chi e questa che vien ch' ogni uom la mira!
Che fa tremar di caritate l' a're?
E mena seco amor, si che parlare
Null' uom ne puote; ma ciascun sospira?
Ahi dio! che sembra quando gli occhi gira!
Dicalo Amor, ch'io nol saprei contare;
Cotanto d' umilta donna mi pare
Che ciascun' altra inver di lei chiam' ira.
Non si porria contar la sua piacenza;
Che a lei s'inchina ogni gentil virtute,
E la beltate per sua Dea la mostra.
Non e si alta gia la mente nostra
E non s'e posta in noi tanta salute
Che propriamente n' abbian conoscenza!
LITERAL TRANSLATION.
"Who is this, on whom all men gaze as she approacheth!--who
causeth the very air to tremble around her with
tenderness?--who leadeth Love by her side--in whose presence
men are dumb; and can only sigh? Ah! Heaven! what power in
every glance of those eyes! Love alone can tell; for I have
neither words nor skill! She alone is the Lady of
gentleness--beside her, all others seem ungracious and
unkind. Who can describe her sweetness, her loveliness? to
her every virtue bows, and beauty points to her as her own
divinity. The mind of man cannot soar so high, nor is it
sufficiently purified by divine grace to understand and
appreciate all her perfections!"
The vagueness of this portrait is a part of its beauty:--it is like a
lovely dream--and probably never had any existence, but in the fancy of
the Poet.
Cino da Pistoia enjoyed the double reputation of being the greatest
doctor and teacher of the civil law, and most famous poet of his time.
He was also remarkable for his personal accomplishments and his love of
pleasure. There is a sonnet which Dante addressed to Cino, reproaching
him with being inconstant and volatile in love.[21] Apparently, this was
after the death of the beautiful Ricciarda dei Selvaggi; or, as he calls
her, his Selvaggia: she was of a noble family of Pistoia, her father
having been gonfaliere, and leader of the faction of the Bianchi; and
she was also celebrated for her poetical talents. It appears from a
little madrigal of hers, which has been preserved, that though she
tenderly returned the affection of her lover, it was without the
knowledge of her haughty family. It is not distinguished for poetic
power, but has at least the charm of perfect frankness and simplicity,
and a kind of _abandon_ that is quite bewitching.
A MESSER CINO DA PISTOJA.
Gentil mio sir, lo parlare amoroso
Di voi si in allegranza mi mantene,
Che dirvel non poria, ben lo sacciate;
Perche del mio amor sete giojoso,
Di cio grand' allegria e gio' mi vene,
Ed altro mai non haggio in volontate,
Fuor del vostro piacere;
Tutt' hora fate la vostra voglienza:
Haggiate previdenza
Voi, di celar la nostra desienza.
"My gentle love and lord! those tender words
Of thine so fill my conscious heart with joy,
--I cannot speak it--but thou know'st it well;
Wherefore do thou rejoice in that deep love
I bear thee, knowing that I have no thought
But to fulfil thy will and crown thy wish:
--Watch thou--and hide our mutual hope from all!"
Meantime the parents of Ricciarda were exiled from Pistoia, by the
faction of the Neri. They took refuge from their enemies in a little
fortress among the Appenines, whither Cino followed them, and was
received as a comforter amid their distresses. Probably the days passed
in this dreary abode, among the wild and solitary hills, when he
assisted Ricciarda in her household duties, and in aiding and consoling
her parents, were among the happiest of his life; but the winter came,
and with it many privations and many hardships. Their mountain retreat
was ill calculated to defend them against the fury of the elements:
Ricciarda drooped under the pressure of misery and want, and her parents
and her lover watched the gradual extinction of life--saw the rose-hue
fade from her cheek, and the light from her eye, till she melted from
their arms into death; then they buried her with tears, in a nook among
the mountains.
Many years afterwards, when Cino had reached the height of his fame, and
had been crowned with wealth and honours by his native city, he had
occasion to cross the Appenines on an embassy, and causing his suite to
travel by another road, he made a pilgrimage alone to the tomb of his
lost Selvaggia. This incident gave rise to the most striking of all his
compositions, which with great pathos and sweetness describes his
feelings, when he flung himself down on her humble grave, to weep over
the recollection of their past happiness:
Io fu' in sull'alto e in sul beato monte,
Ove adorai baciando il santo sasso,
E caddi in su quella pietra, oime lasso!
Ove l' onesta pose la sua fronte;
E ch' ella chiuse d' ogni virtu il fonte
Quel giorno che di morte acerbo passo
Fece la donna dello mio cor,--lasso!--
Gia piena tutta d' adornezze conte.
Quivi chiamai a questa guisa Amore:
"Dolce mio Dio, fa che quinci mi traggia
La morte a se, che qui giace il mio cor!"
Ma poi che non m'intese il mio signore,
Mi disparti, pur chiamando, Selvaggia!
L'alpe passai, con voce di dolore.
The circumstance in the last stanza, "I rose up and went on my way, and
passed the mountain summits, crying aloud 'Selvaggia!' in accents of
despair," has a strong reality about it, and no doubt _was_ real. Her
death took place about 1316.
In the history of Italian poetry, Selvaggia is distinguished as the
"_bel numer' una_,"--"the fair number one"--of the four celebrated
women of that century--The others were Dante's Beatrice, Petrarch's
Laura, and Boccaccio's Fiammetta.
Every one who reads and admires Petrarch, will remember his beautiful
Sonnet on the Death of Cino, beginning "Piangete Donne"
Perche 'l nostro amoroso messer Cino
Novellamente s'e da noi partito.
In the venerable Cathedral at Pistoia, there is an ancient half-effaced
bas-relief, representing Cino, surrounded by his disciples, to whom he
is explaining the code of civil law: a little behind stands the figure
of a female veiled, and in a pensive attitude, which is supposed to
represent Ricciarda de' Selvaggi.
All these are alluded to by Petrarch in the Trionfo d'Amore.
Ecco Selvaggia,
Ecco Cin da Pistoja; Guitton d'Arezzo;
Ecco i due Guidi che gia furo in prezzo.
The two Guidi are, Guido Guizzinello, and Guido Cavalcanti. Guitone was
a famous monk, who is said to have invented the present form of the
sonnet: to him also is attributed the discovery of counterpoint, and the
present system of musical notation.
Of Conti's mistress nothing is known, but that she had the most
beautiful hand in the world, whence the volume of poems written by her
lover in her praise, is entitled, _La Bella Mano_, the fair hand. Conti
lived some years later than Petrarch. I mention him merely to fill up
the list of those ancient minor poets of Italy, whose names and loves
are still celebrated.
FOOTNOTES:
[21]
Chi s' innamora, siccome voi fate
Ed ad ogni piacer si lega e scioglie
Mostra ch'amor leggermente il saetti--SON. 44.