I made up my mind to amuse myself now. I was sick of being grave and
serious. When one thinks how short a while youth lasts it is foolish not
to take the best advantage of it; the time man has at his disposal is
not long enough for tragedy and moaning; he has only room for a little
laughter, and then his hair gets grey and his knees shaky, and he is
left repenting that he did not make more of his opportunities. So many
people have told me that they have never regretted their vices, but
often their virtues! Life is too short to take things seriously. Let us
eat, drink and be merry, for to-morrow we die.
There was really so much to do in Forli that amusement became almost
hard work. There were hunting parties in which we scoured the country
all day and returned at night, tired and sleepy, but with a delicious
feeling of relief, stretching our limbs like giants waking from their
sleep. There were excursions to villas, where we would be welcomed by
some kind lady, and repeat on a smaller scale the Decameron of
Boccaccio, or imitate the learned conversations of Lorenzo and his
circle at Careggio; we could platonise as well as they, and we
discovered the charm of treating impropriety from a philosophic point of
view. We would set ourselves some subject and all write sonnets on it,
and I noticed that the productions of our ladies were always more highly
spiced than our own. Sometimes we would play at being shepherds and
shepherdesses, but in this I always failed lamentably, for my nymph
invariably complained that I was not as enterprising as a swain should
be. Then we would act pastoral plays in the shadow of the trees; Orpheus
was our favourite subject, and I was always set for the title part,
rather against my will, for I could never bring the proper vigour into
my lament for Eurydice, since it always struck me as both unreasonable
and ungallant to be so inconsolable for the loss of one love when there
were all around so many to console one....
And in Forli itself there was a continuous whirl of amusement,
festivities of every kind crowded on one, so that one had scarcely time
to sleep; from the gravity and instructive tedium of a comedy by Terence
to a drinking bout or a card party. I went everywhere, and everywhere
received the heartiest of welcomes. I could sing and dance, and play the
lute, and act, and I was ready to compose a sonnet or an ode at a
moment's notice; in a week I could produce a five-act tragedy in the
Senecan manner, or an epic on Rinaldo or Launcelot; and as I had not a
care in the world and was as merry as a drunken friar, they opened their
arms to me and gave me the best of all they had....
I was attentive to all the ladies, and scandalous tongues gave me half a
dozen mistresses, with details of the siege and capture. I wondered
whether the amiable Giulia heard the stories, and what she thought of
them. Occasionally I saw her, but I did not trouble to speak to her;
Forli was large enough for the two of us; and when people are
disagreeable why should you trouble your head about them?
* * * * *
One afternoon I rode with Matteo a few miles out of Forli to a villa
where there was to be some festivity in honour of a christening. It was
a beautiful spot, with fountains and shady walks, and pleasant lawns of
well-mown grass; and I set myself to the enjoyment of another day. Among
the guests was Claudia Piacentini. I pretended to be very angry with her
because, at a ball which she had recently given, I had not received the
honour of an invitation. She came to me to ask forgiveness.
'It was my husband,' she said, which I knew perfectly well. 'He said he
would not have you in his house. You've had another quarrel with him!'
'How can I help it, when I see him the possessor of the lovely Claudia!'
'He says he will never be satisfied till he has your blood.'