Poetry under the Montefeltri--Sonnets--The
Filelfi--Giovanni Sanzi--Porcellio Pandonio--Angelo
Galli--Federigo Veterani--Urbani Urbinate--Antonio
Rustico--Naldio--Improvisatori--Bernardo Accolti--Serafino
d'Aquila--Agostino Staccoli--Early comedies--_La
Calandra_--Corruption of morals--Social position of women.
Were the lettered court of Duke Federigo to be judged by its
minstrels, a harsh sentence might perhaps be awarded. Nor would this
be quite fair. Their cold and common-place ideas, their rude and
vapid verses, are indeed far beneath the standard of our fastidious
age, and scarcely repay those who decipher them in venerable
parchments. Yet have we ample evidence of their superiority to many
poetasters of Italy, who then emulated Virgil's hexameters, or abused
the facilities of their vernacular versification; and it is just the
fact of these laureates of Urbino so long surviving the countless
rhymers of other principalities, that proves the discriminating
patronage of a sovereign, who attached to his court the best writers
of his time. Nor must we fail to remember that the now prominent
blemishes of their works were then their most admired qualities. The
classical sympathies which we usually leave in schools and colleges,
or which, when carried prominently about us in the busy world are
stigmatised as a pedantic and ungraceful encumbrance, were then in
high fashion. They were indispensable to the man of liberal education
as his sword and buckler to the soldier; they were adopted among
the conventional elements of all literature, poetry, and taste.
A standard being thus set up so antipathic to the ideas of our
practical age, we are called upon, before proceeding to judgment, to
divest ourselves of prejudices which may in their turn become the
marvel and ridicule of our posterity.
The inherent defects of that minstrelsy,
"Whose melody gave ease to Petrarch's wounds,"
have been aptly set forth by Roscoe, but he appears to overlook its
special adaptation for the Italian tongue. Limited to one theme,
which it is required to exhaust in a fixed number of lines, and
fettered by the frequent and stated recurrence of a few rhymes, no
language less copious and pliant can be woven into a sonnet, without
occasionally betraying, in bald, formal, or rugged versification,
the torture to which it has been subjected. Again, the constraint
and mannerism which often deform this metrical composition in
other idioms are here its safeguard from a mellifluous but insipid
verbiage, so often fatal to the lyrics of Italy: on a poetry
habitually turgid and redundant, terseness is thus absolutely imposed.
With these few words of apology for doggerel hexameters and
indifferent sonnets, we shall shortly pass in review some of those
who thus wooed the muses in the Montefeltrian court.
* * * * *
Among the most widely known names of this age was FRANCESCO
FILELFO, whose venal pen often wantoned in biting lampoons,
whose sickening vanity was obtruded in the most repulsive egotism,
and whose vagrant habits strangely combined assiduous study with lax
morals. In most respects he anticipated the bad notoriety acquired
a century later by Pietro Aretino, and like him alternately fawned
upon and flagellated princely patrons of literature. Were his life
to be written, it would be difficult to extract truth by balancing
his own self-vaunting letters against the scurrilous philippics of
his untiring enemy Poggio Bracciolini. But we are fortunately spared
this task, and may refer to Tiraboschi, Roscoe, and Shepherd for
illustrations of his restless existence and fractious temper.[82]
In both these respects GIAN MARIA,[*83] the son, seems to
have resembled Francesco the father, whilst he even exceeded him in
the number and variety of his compositions. He sought audiences in
many cities of Italy and Provence for his prelections in grammar and
philosophy, as well as for his improvisations of Latin or Italian
verse; and among the numerous patrons he thus courted was the good
King René, who bestowed on him the laurel crown, a guerdon which his
rude numbers ill-deserved at the hands of that graceful troubadour.
Tiraboschi makes no allusion to his intercourse with Duke Federigo,
whereof we know little beyond two works which he inscribed to that
Prince, and which remain unedited in the Vatican Urbino Library.
The former of these, dated at Modena in 1464, was corrected by the
author, "doctor in arts and both faculties of law, knight, and poet
laureat," he being then in his thirty-eighth year. It is numbered
702, and contains about two thousand five hundred Latin hexameters
and pentameters, entitled _Martiados_, an obvious imitation of his
father's _Sfortiados_. The theme is thus set forth in a dedication to
the Duke of Urbino:--
"Primus et in Martem quæ sint pia fata Tonantis,
Et manibus nati monstra parenta refert;
At liber et bellis laudatque et honore secundus,
Et gestis magnum rebus in orbe Ducem."
[Footnote 82: TIRABOSCHI, _Storia della Letteratura
Italiana_, VI., ii., p. 317-30; SHEPHERD'S _Life of Poggio
Bracciolini_, _passim_; ROSCOE'S _Lorenzo de' Medici_, ch.
i.]
[Footnote *83: Cf. FLAMINI, _Versi inediti da G.M. Filelfo_
(Livorno, 1892, per nozze).]
The very moderate anticipations raised by this proemium, which we
leave in its rugged original, are not surpassed in the context, dull
and common-place as it is in sentiment, prosaic and unpolished in
style. Losing sight of his avowed object of keeping apart the deeds
of Mars, the ancient divinity, from those of Federigo, his living
type, in order to illustrate the parallel which it is his plan to
draw between them, he strangely jumbles both; and, following the
new-born classicism of the day, he has crammed his rough verses with
nearly every name that heathen mythology, history, or geography can
muster, in senseless and jarring confusion. With a view to exalt
his hero as a second Hercules, he enumerates a series of labours
and achievements from his childhood, when he sprang from bed and
strangled a snake that had frightened all his attendants. This is
followed by a farrago of allegorical struggles, combats, and triumphs
over temptations or evil principles, anticipating somewhat the idea
of the _Pilgrim's Progress_, but with this important difference, that
the motives, arms, and aids are all borrowed from pagan mythology.
So entirely is Federigo lost among the gods and demigods who crowd
the stage, that his character or actions are seldom brought on the
foreground at all, and never with sufficient idiosyncracy to avail
for the development of either. Finally, we find him deified in
Olympus, and the epic closes with an empty bravado that none ever
more worthily emulated Alcides.
The other MS. of Gian Maria Filelfo which demands a passing note is
No. 804 of the same library, and is dated seven years later than the
_Martiados_. It contains some six thousand Italian verses, consisting
for the most part of minor poems on a variety of subjects; the
volume is dedicated to Federigo, but many of the _Canzoni morali_
are inscribed to distinguished personages, not omitting the Duke's
rancorous foe Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta, to whose vanity such
incense could not have been unpalatable. In treating of religious
topics, the author, for the time, and by an effort, lays aside the
pagan strain which prevails in his other lays, and though generally
selecting the sonnet or _terza rima_, he thus affects to disclaim all
rivalry with their mighty masters:--
"To these rude rhymes, alas, nor Petrarch's style
Is given, nor the good Dante's pungent file."
Yet there is considerable ambition in the rhythm, and although
prolix, like other contemporary compositions, and inflated by
superabundant episodes, it is not devoid of occasional poetic
feeling. In the dedicatory address he thus speaks of his volume:--
"De! dunque Signor mio, per tua merciede
Con lieta fronte schorri esto libretto,
Il qual sotto il tuo titolo honor chiede.
Forse leggiendol' ne fia alcun dilecto,
Per esser di molte herbe uno orticciuolo,
Quantunque el vi sia dentro erro e diffecto:
Pur che 'l non sia di tutto il vano orciuolo
Col qual l'aqua si tira, da le donne
Che feciono ai mariti si gran duolo.
Ogni casa non è posta in colonne;
Ognuno esser non può Dante o Patrarcha;
Ognun non porta pretiose gonne.
Ma spesse volte piccoletta barcha
Arriva in luoco, ove andando s'anniegha
Tal grossa nave che molto è men charcha.
De! s'al huom val quanto il Signor più priegha,
China la fronte altiera a questa scorza,
Ch'in questo mio arbor del pieta non niegha.
Et come il navichare hor poggia, hor orza,
Hor pope avvien, secondo i venti e l'onde
Cosi convien ch'in vario error mi torza.
Hor la mia voglia la ragion confonde,
Hor l'appetito impera, hor vivo in doglia,
Hor lieto, hor desioso, et non so donde.
Qual l'autunno ogni verde arbor spoglia,
Inverno asciugha, e primavera inverde,
Tal varia e nostra externa et mental voglia.
Ma tristo chiunque indarno il tempo perde,
Ch'è peggio ch'esser rozzo e senza lima,
Però che chi non è mai non riverde.
De! leggi, Signor mio, la vulghar ryma,
Et sia ti un modo da cacciar la noia,
Quando di gran facciende hai maggior stima."
As we shall give a place in our Appendix to Giovanni Sanzi's judgment
upon the painters of his day, we may here insert Filelfo's sonnet to
Gentile Bellini.
"Bellin! s'io t'hebbi mai fitto nel cuore,
Se mai chognobbi it tuo preclaro ingiegno,
Hor confess'io che sei fra gli altri degno,
D'haver qual hebbe Apelle ogni alto honore.
Veduta ho l'opra tua col suo cholore,
La venustà col suo sguardo benegno,
Ogni suo movimento et nobil segno
Che ben demonstri il tuo gientil valore.
Gientile! io t'ero affectionato assai,
Parendomi la tua virtu più rara
Che soglia esser l'ucciel che è solo al mondo;
Ne pingier sa chi da te non impara,
Che gloria a quegli antiqui hormai tolta hai,
In chi questa arte postha ogni suo pondo.
Forsse che troppo habondo
A te che non ti churi di tue lode,
Ma diciendone assai l'alma mia ghode."
When compared with contemporary efforts, these specimens, and others
which it would be easy to add, deserve a better fate than the neglect
to which, in common with most of their author's works, they have been
consigned; nor do they bear out the imputation of careless haste,
alleged by Tiraboschi as the prevailing error of his very numerous
and various productions. The paucity of these which have issued from
the press may, however, be taken as confirming that judgment, as
well as the suppression of his narrative of the campaign of Finale
in 1447, after it had been printed by Muratori for his Scriptores.
But poetry may be accounted his forte,--a somewhat remarkable
circumstance, considering the unrivalled reputation he established as
an _improvisatore_ of verses on any number not exceeding one hundred
themes suddenly proposed, as such facility has rarely been conjoined
with true poetic fire.
It were to be desired that we knew more of his intercourse with
Duke Federigo. In one of his dedicatory epistles, after alluding
to the likelihood of that prince reading the work, he, in a vein of
fulsome compliment and impudent conceit, complains of neglect from
friends, and hints at a visit to Urbino. It is difficult to glean
facts from the vague common-places of such letters; but in 1468 he
thanks his patron for retaining at his court Demetrio Castreno, a
learned Greek fugitive from Constantinople. Equally mannered and
cold are his flattery and his condolence, on the death of Countess
Battista in 1472. Next year he writes that, having begun a commentary
on Federigo's life, and completed two books, he had been induced to
submit them to the Duke of Milan, from whom he never could recover
the manuscript.
* * * * *
Another _protégé_ of Duke Federigo was PORCELLIO PANDONIO,
of Naples,[*84] whose pen was ever at command of the readiest
patron, as historiographer or laureate. From his partiality to the
designations of bard and secretary to Alfonso of Naples, it would
seem that he chiefly rested his fame on his poetical compositions.
From this judgment Muratori differs, protesting that in historical
narrative none excelled his ease and elegance of diction.[85] Abject
classicism, in thought and style, was then a common weakness of
the learned; and however correctly Porcellio may have caught the
Latin phraseology, it is difficult to get over the jarring effect
of an idiom and nomenclature foreign to the times and incidents
which it is his object vividly to portray. In his printed work, on
the campaigns of 1451-2, between Venice and Milan, he uniformly
disguises Sforza and Piccinino, their respective commanders, as
Scipio and Hannibal, under which _noms de guerre_ it requires a
constant effort to recognise mediæval warriors, or to recollect
that we are considering events dating some two thousand years after
those who really bore them had been committed to the dust. The same
affectation, common to many authors of his day, mars his unpublished
writings which we have had occasion to examine in the Vatican Urbino
Library, and their authority is greatly impaired by what Muratori
well calls "prodigality of praise" to his heroes, that is, to his
generous patrons. In a beautifully elaborated MS. (No. 373) he has
collected, under the title of Epigrams, nearly fifty effusions in
honour of our Duke and Duchess, and of members of their family
or court, a favourite theme being the love-inspired longings of
Battista for her lord's return from the wars. In the same volume
is his Feltria, an epic composed at Rome about 1472, and narrating
Federigo's campaigns, from that of 1460-1, under the banner of Pius
II., by whose command Porcellio undertook to sing his general's
prowess in three thousand Virgilian verses. Its merits may be fairly
appreciated from extracts already given,[86] and from this allusion
to the state of Italy at the outbreak of the war:--
"Jamque erat Ausoniæ populos pax alta per omnes,
Et tranquilla quies: jam nulli Martis ad aras
Collucent ignes; jam victima nulla cadebat.
Dantur thura Jovi; fumabat oliva Minervæ:
Sus erat in pretio, Cereris aptissima sacris,
Pampineique dei caper, et qui vitibus amens
Officit, atque merum ante aras cum sanguine fundit."
[Footnote *84: Porcellio Napolitano was the laureate and secretary
of Alphonso I. of Aragon and of Naples, and later the secretary and
familiar of Sigismondo Malatesta. Porcellio seems to have hated
Basinio, another court poet, whose works, with a long commentary,
have been published (BATTAGLINI, _Basinii, Parmensis Poetæ
Opera Præstantiora_ (Rimini, 1794)). Basinio seems to have proved
before the Court of Rimini that Porcellio was ignorant of Greek.
"One can be a fine Latin poet without knowing Greek," he answered in
a rage, but truly enough. Basinio, however, asserted that not only
Virgil and all the great poets and prose writers knew Greek, but
showed that while that language was forgotten Italy was plunged in
darkness. But enough of such absurdities, which have besides nothing
to do with Urbino or even Dennistoun's history of it.]
[Footnote 85: Nearly all we know of him will be found in the
Scriptores, XX., 67, and XXV., 1.]
[Footnote 86: See vol. I., pp. 209-11. Portions of the same poem
are contained in Nos. 709 and 710 of the Urbino Library, the former
corrected by the author, the latter in his autograph. Some of his
minor lyrics were published at Paris in 1549, along with those of two
other minstrels who sang the praises of the Malatesta.]
Such were the foreign poets who frequented Duke Federigo's court.
Its native bards left few works meriting particular notice, with one
interesting exception. We have elsewhere to discuss Giovanni Sanzi
or Santi,[*87] of Urbino, his merits as a painter, and the celebrity
reflected on him from the eminence of his son, the unequalled
Raffaele. Here we shall speak of his epic on that Duke's life, of
which we have made frequent use in our first volume, and which
demands attention on account of its excellence, as well as from the
intimate connection with our subject of its author and theme.
[Footnote *87: On Giovanni Santi, see CAMPORI, _Notizie
e docum. per la vita di Giov. Santi e di Raffaello Santi da
Urbino_ (Modena, 1870); GUERRINI, _Elogio Stor. di Giov.
Santi_ (Urbino, 1822); SCHMARZOW, _Giovanni Santi der Vater Raffaels_,
in _Kunstchronik_ (Leipsig), An. XXIII., No. 27; SCHMARZOW, _Giovanni
Santi_ in _Vierteljahrsschrift für Kultur und Lett. der Renaissance_
(Leipsig), vol. II., Nos. 2-4. Cf. also CROWE & CAVALCASELLE, _History
of Painting in Italy_, vol. III.]
This poem, having remained unedited in the Vatican arcana, long
escaped the literary historians of the Peninsula, but it has been
recently quoted by two writers, Pungileone and Passavant, the former
of whom had not seen it.[88] Although, in his dedication to Duke
Guidobaldo, composed after 1490, the author accounts for his becoming
a painter, as we shall see in chapter xxviii., he gives no further
explanation of the motives which inspired the labour of a poem,
containing some twenty-four thousand lines, than "that after anxious
thought and consideration of such new ideas as offered themselves, I
wished to sing in this little used style of _terza rima_, the story
of your most excellent and most renowned father's glorious deeds,"
whose "brilliant reputation not only was and is well known throughout
Italy, but is, if I may say so, the subject of discourse beyond the
Caucasus," "not without a conscious blush at the idea of dipping so
mean a vessel in the water of this limpid and sparkling spring."
With equal modesty, he deprecates all rivalry with the learned
commentators who had celebrated the same theme in Latin, limiting the
ambition of his "rude and brief compend" to rendering its interest
accessible to more ordinary readers; but, looking back upon his
twenty-three ample cantos, he fervently thanks the Almighty that an
undertaking of so extended time and toil had at length attained its
termination, and concludes by "humbly beseeching that you will regard
the hero's far-famed actions, rather than the baseness of my style,
whose only grace is the sincere devotion of a faithful servant to his
lord." A similar tone marks the outset of his Chronicle:--
"If e'er in by-gone times a shallow mind
Shrank from the essay of a grand design,
So quake I in the labour-pangs of fear."
[Footnote 88: _Elogio Storico di Giovanni Santi_, pp. 14 and 69,
etc.; Rafael von Urbino. The original and only MS. is described in
III. of our Appendix.]
Compared with contemporary epics, the rhythm is smooth and flowing,
and the style dignified, interspersed with highly poetical episodes
and finely expressed moral reflections as well as apt illustrations
from ancient history and mythology. The epithets, though abundant,
are more than usually appropriate, and many terse maxims are happily
introduced. Yet, in his object of placing his poem and his hero among
the popular literature of the day, Giovanni must have failed, the
Vatican MS. being the only known copy. Readers it, however, doubtless
had, one of whom has curiously commemorated his admiration by jotting
on the margin, "Were you but as good a painter as a poet, who knows!"
Modern critics, contrasting his fresco at Cagli with the rhyming
Chronicle, would probably arrive at an inverse conclusion, especially
were they to pronounce upon the latter from the preamble which called
forth that exclamation--an allegorical vision, told in nine weary
chapters, wherein figure a motley crowd of mythological and heroic
personages belonging to ancient and contemporary times.
It would occasion much useless repetition to enter here into any
detailed analysis of the work, as we have formerly drawn upon its
most valuable portions for the history of Duke Federigo. When
considering the state of the fine arts, we shall have to notice
a very important part of the poem touching upon that subject--an
æsthetic episode on the art and artists of his day, which is
introduced on occasion of the Duke's visit to Federigo I., Marquis of
Mantua. In regard to the merit of this epic, due allowance must be
made for the taste of the age. Its great length necessarily infers a
tediousness of detail much more adapted to prose than verse, indeed
inherently prosaic. Yet it contains not a few continuous passages
of sustained beauty, and it would not be difficult to cull many a
sparkling thought and bright simile, while from time to time the
dull narrative is enlivened by lyric touches and strokes of poetic
fancy, adorning sentiments creditable to the genius and the heart
of its author, who, with much sweetness of disposition, appears to
have possessed endowments beyond his humble sphere. His patriotic
indignation at the ceaseless broils and strifes which convulsed his
fatherland may supply us with an example or two:--
"Ma non potendo Italia in pace stare
Sotto lunga quiete, o mai, parendo
Putrida vile e maricia diventare."
No long repose Ausonia e'er can brook,
For peace to her brings languor, and she deems
It loathsome to lie fallow.
"Cum qual costum, che Italia devora,
Del sempre stare in gran confusione,
Disjunta et seperata, e disiare
L'un stato al altro sua destructione."
Sad is the usage that Italia wastes
In ceaseless struggles, aye for separate ends;
Sever'd her states, and each on others' ills
Intent.
"O mischinella
Italia! in te, acecata e disunita
Hor per dollor, te batte ogni mascella."
Ah, poor and wretched Italy! all blind
And disunited, chattering thy jaws
In torments sad.
"O instabil fortuna! che fai secco
Ogni arbor verde, quando te impiacere,
In un momento."
Ah fickle fortune! which the greenest tree
Mayst in a moment wither at thy will.
The following sentiments were likely to find little sympathy among
his contemporaries:--
"Il sfrenato desio che nel cor tiene
Di nuova signoria e altrui dominio
L'huom mai si satia; e pur morir conviene."
Man ne'er his soul's unbridled lust can slake
Of further sovereignty, and wider sway;
Yet 'tis appointed him to die.
"Che el facto d'arme se devea fare
Sol per due cose, e l'altre lassar gire:
L'uno è per lo avantagio singolare
E grande oltra misura; e in caso extremo
Si deve l'huomo a la fortuna dare."
Twain are the pleas that justly may be urged
For armed aggression,--aggrandisement great
Beyond all calculation, or extreme
Necessity: nought else can justify
Such hazard of men's fortunes.
A long and somewhat tedious chapter of moralities on the uncertain
tenure of life among princes, introduced after describing the
assassination of Galeazzo Maria Duke of Milan, in 1476, opens
finely:--
"Vedendo il breve e vil peregrinare
Che noi facciam per questo falso mondo,
Anzi un pugno di terra al ver narrare,
Dove, con tanto afanno e tanto pondo,
De dì e nocte, e inextimabil cure,
Cerchiam sallire in alto e andamo al fondo.
Qual e quel si potente che asicure
Ogi la vita sua per l'altro giorno,
Tante son spesse et orende le sciagure?"
Seeing how brief the pilgrimage and vile,
Whereby through this false world we wend our way,
A little earth our only heritage,
Where day and night, with pain and load of care
Incalculable, still we seek to soar,
Yet ever downward sink: where is the man
Potent to day, to-morrow's life to count,
So frequent its mishaps and horrible?
The bland transition from a rigorous winter to balmy Italian spring
is thus apostrophised:--
"Intanto el verno
El mondo gia copria col fredo smalto;
E raro volte fu che el tempo iberno
Tanto terribile fusse, onde asvernarsi
Tucti ne andar, per fin che del inferno
Proserpina torno, per adornarsi
De vaghi fiori e de novelle fronde,
Cum lauree chiome al vento dolce sparsi."
Winter meanwhile the far-spread world had clad
In cold enamel; rarely was it known
More rigid: gladly all the troops retired
To quarters, waiting Proserpine's return
On earth, with beauteous flowers bedecked, and leaves
Of freshest green, when in the gentle breeze
Should stream her laurel tresses.
The poet's eloquent tribute to Florentine freedom, and its value to
the cause of liberty, must close our sparing extracts.[89]
"Perche privato el popul Fiorentino
Della sua libertade, era cavare
Un occhio a Italia, e metterla al declino."
For to curtail fair Florence of her freedom
Were to pluck forth an eye from Italy,
And cause her orb to wane.
[Footnote 89: See others in vol. I., and _passim_ in Book II.; also
in IV. of the Appendix below.]
In Sanzi's Chronicle we seek in vain for the riper beauties of
succeeding epics; but the flashes of poetry which it embodies are
not the less effective from their simple diction, nor from the
comparatively unpolished narrative which they adorn.
* * * * *
No. 699 of the Urbino MSS. contains the collected minor poems and
songs of ANGELO GALLI of Urbino, knight, and secretary to
Duke Federigo. They are three hundred and seventy-six in number,
all in Italian, and unedited, but beautifully transcribed on vellum
by Federigo Veterani. Although varied by the introduction of sacred
subjects, most of them are occasional amorous effusions, wherein
names of the Montefeltri, Malatesta, Sforza, and other Umbrian
families frequently occur. The dates affixed to them extend from
1428 to 1457. It appears that the author attended the Council of
Basle in 1442, and he is said by Crescimbeni to have survived until
1496. His mellowed versification is in general superior to that of
the age, while his trite and limited matter is pleasingly relieved
by many happy turns of thought and graces of language. Though unable
to supply any particulars of one who has almost escaped notice, we
give place to two specimens of his muse. His canzonet addressed to
Caterina, "the noble, beautiful, discreet, charming, gentle, and
generous Countess of Urbino," runs thus:
"El mirabil splendor del tuo bel viso
Pusilanimo famme, a tanta parte
Che l'ingegno in tal carte
Non tangeria, s'il ver ch'io non errasse.
Forsa che la natura in paradiso
Per aiuto sali ad informarte,
E poi per divin arte
A gloria de se eterna giù te trasse.
Qual oro si micante s'aguagliasse
Cum sua chiareza a tui biondi capegli!
E gli occhi, ch'a vede gli
L'invidia affreccia el sol a ricolcarse.
Qual perle, qual coragli, al riso breve!
Le guance han sangue, spirto in bianca neve!"
The other is upon Costanza Varana, wife of Alessandro Sforza, and
mother of Battista Countess of Urbino.
"Che la sua faccia bella
Mostro d'inverno sempre primavera,
Real costume, aspetto di signora,
Viso di dea e d'angioli a favella.
Ma questa donna, ch'a la mente diva,
Depinge di honestà omne suo gesto:
Non pur suo guardo honesto,
Ma li suo panni, gridan' pudicitia.
Questa madonna è el mar' de tutto el senno
Renchiuso, e posto dentro da bel ciglio,
Chi vuol vecchio consiglio
Recinga ai teneri anni di costei.
Mille viole e fiore
Sparge sopra la neve el suo bel viso;
E dolce del suo riso
Faria piatoso Silla a la vendetta,
E spontaria de Giove omne saetta."
FEDERIGO VETERANI has been repeatedly mentioned as a
transcriber of MSS. for Duke Federigo, whom he also served as
librarian and secretary, besides being one of the judges at Urbino.
Those who have had occasion to examine the library formed by that
prince, are well acquainted with his beautiful autograph, and might
imagine his whole life to have been spent upon its fair volumes. One
of them, containing the Triumphs of Petrarch, No. 351, is subscribed
by him, with a memorandum that it was the last of about sixty volumes
he had written out before the death of Federigo, which he thus
deplores:--
"Fedrico Veterano fui, che scripse
Questo e molti altri, cum justa mercede,
Usando diligentia, amore et fede
Al Duca Federigo in sin ch'el vixe:
Le cui memorie sempre al mondo fixe
Sonno e seranno; e ben certo si crede,
Mentre sta el mondo e la natura in pede
Ch'ogni virtù dal cielo in lui venisse.
Quello mi piango, e mai ho 'l viso asciutto;
Quel chiamo, quel mi sogno, e quel mi stringo
Ai labri, sculpto in cara tavletta;
La qual, così machiata del mio lucto,
Adoro, honoro in verso, e vivo el fingo,
Per lenimento di mia vita abiecta."[90]
[Footnote 90: See a translation of these lines, vol. I., p. 269.]
But, in addition to his miscellaneous avocations, Veterani was a
copious versifier. Besides an epic, De Progenie Domus Feretranæ,
there are other volumes of poetry, apparently his, remaining unedited
in the library,[91] of which he continued custodian until the reign
of Francesco Maria I. One of those beautiful manuscripts, the fair
vellum and gem-like illuminations of which have been the theme of
many a eulogy, contains the collected verses of Cristoforo Landini
and six other less-known poets of the fifteenth century. On the
concluding page, in a trembling and blotted hand, we read these
touching lines, the tribute of its lettered scribe to the temporary
eclipse of his sovereign's dynasty:[92]--
"1517.
"FEDERICUS VETERANUS, URBINAS BIBLIOTHECARIUS, AD REI
MEMORIAM.
"Ne careat lacrymis liber hic, post fata Feretri,
Hic me subscripsi, cumque dolore gravi.
Hunc ego jamdudum Federicus, stante Feretro,
Transcripsi, (gratus vel fuit ille mihi
Quem modo vel semper fas est lugere parentem,
Et dominum qui me nutriit,) atque diu
Pagina testis erit, lacrymis interlita multis,
Hæc tibi, qui moesta hæc carmina pauca legis.
Et si dissimilis conclusit littera librum,
Scriptorem ignarum me dolor ipse facit."
[Footnote 91: Vat. Urb. MSS. No. 1293, 303, 699.]
[Footnote 92: _Ibid._, No. 368, f. 188.]
Among the minor fry slumbering unknown in the Vatican Library
is URBANI of Urbino, who left a few rude elegiac and complimentary
ditties in Latin or Italian upon members of the Montefeltrian line,
and compiled a confused account of their pedigree. We may also name
ANTONIO RUSTICO of Florence, whose _Panegiricon Comitis Federici_,
dedicated to him in 1472, contains above seven hundred Italian lines
of _terza rima_, unpolished in style, and in matter a mere tissue of
fatiguing verbiage. Scarcely more valuable is NALDIO'S account of the
Volterran campaign of 1572 in Latin verse, to which we have vainly
had recourse for new information on that obscure passage of our
memoirs.[93]
[Footnote 93: These three works are Nos. 736, 743, and 373.]
* * * * *
While enumerating in our twenty-first chapter the celebrities of Duke
Guidobaldo's court, we mentioned Bernardo Accolti, and endeavoured
to explain the inadequacy of his published works to sustain his
contemporary reputation, by supposing that his strength lay in
extemporé recitation. The high place which his vanity claimed, in
assuming "the Unique" as a surname, appears to have been freely
accorded by the most able of his contemporaries. Ariosto says of him,
not perhaps without a sneer at his notorious conceit,--
"The cavalier amid that band, whom they
So honour, unless dazzled in mine eye
By those fair faces, is the shining light
Of his Arezzo, and Accolti hight."[94]
[Footnote 94: STEWART ROSE'S Translation, XLVI., 10.]
Castiglione assigns him a prominent rank among the Urbino stars,
whilst Bembo and Pietro Aretino testify to his merits. We, however,
would try these by his surviving works, which, as Roscoe observes,
are fatal to his reputation, and which are indeed rather a beacon
than a model to succeeding genius. It is, therefore, unnecessary
to pause upon them, or to add here to our previous notice of their
author and his position at the Montefeltrian court. Nor was Accolti
the only poetaster who attained in that polished circle, or in other
Italian courtlets, a celebrity from which posterity has withheld
its seal. A solution of this success may perhaps be found in the
circumstance that many of these owed it either to personal popularity
or to their musical accomplishments. Thus SERAFINO D'AQUILA,
who either improviséed his verses, or chanted them to his own
accompaniment on the lute, was generally preferred to Petrarch.
He died at thirty-four, in 1500, after being sought by all the
petty sovereigns from Milan to Naples, and ere two generations had
passed away his poetry was utterly forgotten. So, too, AGOSTINO
STACCOLI of Urbino, whose sonnets delighted Duke Federigo, and
obtained for him a diplomatic mission to Rome in 1485, has been long
consigned to oblivion.
* * * * *
The older comedies of Italy become a subject of interest to us, for
one of the earliest was written by Bernardo Bibbiena, a friend of
Guidobaldo I.,[95] and was first performed in the palace of Urbino.
The revival of the comic drama may be traced to Ferrara; and, though
the pieces originally represented there before Duke Ercole I. were
translations from Plautus and Terence,[96] Ariosto made several
boyish attempts to vary the entertainment by dramatic compositions
of his own. This was just before 1500, and to about the same time
Tiraboschi ascribes the comedies of Machiavelli. There is thus
much probability that these attempts preceded the _Calandra_ of
Bibbiena, which has, however, been generally considered the oldest
regular comedy in the language. It seems also to have been the first
that attracted the notice of his patron Leo X., whose delight in
comic performances was excessive; and, although now superseded by
pieces more in accordance with the age, it long enjoyed a continued
popularity. Giovo celebrates its easy and acute wit, and the talent
of its mobile and merry author for scenic representation, which must
have greatly tended to ensure its success. It is doubtful in what
year it was played at the Vatican in presence of his Holiness, on
the visit of Isabella, Marchioness of Mantua, when the decorations
painted by Baldassar Peruzzi obtained unbounded applause. But this
probably happened after its performance at Urbino, which collateral
evidence discovered by Pungileone, has fixed as taking place in the
spring of 1513.[*97] This gorgeous entertainment, and the scenery
executed for it by Timoteo della Vite and Girolamo Genga, are
commemorated in a letter of Castiglione, which throws light upon the
manner of such festivities in that mountain metropolis.
[Footnote 95: See above, pp. 65-69.]
[Footnote 96: See these described, vol. I., App. xiii.]
[Footnote *97: Cf. VERNARECCI, _Di Alcune Rappresentazioni
Drammatiche alla Corte d'Urbino nel 1513_ in the _Arch. St. per le
Marche e per l'Umbria_, vol. III., p. 181 _et seq._]
"The scene was laid in an open space between a city-wall
and its farthest houses. From the stage downwards, there
was most naturally represented the wall, with two great
towers descending from the upper part of the hall, on one
of which were bagpipers, on the other trumpeters, with
another wall of fine proportion flanking them; thus the
hall figured as the town-ditch, and was traversed by two
walls to support the water. The side next the seats was
ornamented with Trojan cloth, over which there projected a
large cornice, with this Latin inscription, in great white
letters upon an azure ground, extending across that part of
the theatre:--
"'BOTH WARS ABROAD AND SPORTS AT HOME
GREAT CÆSAR PATRONISED;
LIKE DOUBLE CARE BY MIGHTY MINDS
'MONGST US SHOULD STILL BE PRIZED.'
"To the roof were attached large bunches of evergreens,
almost hiding the ceiling; and from the centres of the
rosettes there descended wires, in a double row along
the room, each supporting a candelabrum in the form of
a letter, with eight or ten lighted torches, the whole
diffusing a brilliant light, and forming the words
POPULAR SPORTS. Another scene represented a
beautiful city, with streets, palaces, churches, towers,
all in relief, but aided by excellent painting and
scientific perspective. There was, among other things,
an octagon temple in half-relief, so perfectly finished
that the whole workmen of the duchy scarcely seemed equal
to produce it in four months; it was all covered with
compositions in stucco: the windows were of imitation
alabaster, the architraves and cornices of fine gold and
ultramarine, with here and there gems admirably imitated in
glass; besides fluted columns, figures standing out with
the roundness of sculpture, and much more that it would
be long to speak of. This was about in the middle; and at
one end there was a triumphal arch, projecting a couple
of yards from the wall, and as well done as possible,
with a capital representation of the Horatii, between
the architrave and the vault, painted to imitate marble.
In two small niches, above the pilasters that supported
the arch, there were tiny figures of Victory in stucco,
holding trophies, whilst over it an admirable equestrian
statue in full armour was spearing a naked man at his feet.
On either side of this group was a little altar, whereon
there blazed a vase of fire during the comedy. I need not
recapitulate all, as your Lordship will have heard of it;
nor how one of the comedies was composed by a child and
recited by children, shaming mayhap their seniors, for
they really played it astonishingly; and it was quite a
novelty to see tiny odd men a foot high maintaining all the
gravity and solemnity of a Menander. Nor shall I say aught
of the odd music of this piece, all hidden here and there,
but shall come to the _Calandra_ of our friend Bernardo,
which afforded the utmost satisfaction. As its prologue
arrived very late, and the person who should have spoken
failed to learn it, one by me was recited, which pleased
much: but little else was changed, except some scenes of
no consequence, which perhaps they could not repeat. The
interludes were as follows. First, a _moresca_ of Jason,
who came dancing on the stage in fine antique armour,
with a splendid sword and shield, whilst there suddenly
appeared on the other side two bulls vomiting forth fire,
so natural as to deceive some of the spectators. These
the good Jason approached, and yoking them to the plough,
made them draw it. He then sowed the dragon's teeth, and
forthwith there sprang up from the stage antique warriors
inimitably managed, who danced a fierce _moresca_, trying
to slay him; and having again come on, the each killed the
other, but were not seen to die. After them, Jason again
appeared, with the golden fleece on his shoulders, dancing
admirably. And this was the first interlude. In the second
there was a lovely car, wherein sat Venus with a lighted
taper in her hand; it was drawn by two doves, which seemed
absolutely alive, and on which rode a couple of Cupids
with bows and quivers, and holding lighted tapers; and it
was preceded and followed by eight more Cupids, dancing
a _moresca_ and beating about with their blazing lights.
Having reached the extremity of the stage, they set fire
to a door, out of which there suddenly leaped nine gallant
fellows all in flames, and danced another _moresca_ to
perfection. The third interlude showed Neptune on a chariot
drawn by two demi-horses with fish-scales and fins, so
well executed. Neptune sat on the top with his trident,
and eight monsters after him (or rather four of them
before and four behind) performing a sword-dance, the car
all the while full of fire. The whole was capitally done,
and the monsters were the oddest in the world, of which no
description can afford an idea. The fourth showed Juno's
car, also full of fire, and herself upon it, with a crown
on her head and a sceptre in her hand, seated on a cloud,
which spread around the car, full of mouths of the winds.
The chariot was drawn by two peacocks, so beautiful and
well managed that even I, who had seen how they were made,
was puzzled. Two eagles and as many ostriches preceded
it; two sea-birds followed, with a pair of parti-coloured
parrots. All these were so admirably executed that I verily
believe, my dear Monsignore, no imitation was ever so like
the truth; and they, too, went through a sword-dance with
indescribable, nay incredible, grace. The comedy ended, one
of the Cupids, whom we had already seen, suddenly appeared
on the stage, and in a few stanzas explained the meaning
of the interludes, which had a continued plot apart from
the comedy, as follows. There was, in the first place,
the battle of these earth-born brothers, showing, under
the fabulous allegory of Jason, how wars prevail among
neighbours who ought to maintain peace. Then came Love,
successively kindling with a holy flame men and earth, sea
and air, to chase away war and discord, and to unite the
world in harmony: the union is but a hope for the future;
the discord is, to our misfortune, a present fact. I had
not meant to send you the stanzas recited by the little
Love, but I do so; your Lordship will do with them what
you like. They were hastily composed whilst struggling
with painters, carpenters, actors, musicians, and ballet
dancers. When they had been spoken, and the Cupid was
gone, there was heard the invisible music of four viols,
accompanying as many voices, who sang, to a beautiful air,
a stanza of invocation to Love; and so the entertainment
ended, to the immense delight of all present. Had I not
so bepraised it in describing its progress, I might now
tell you the part I had in it, but I should not wish your
Lordship to fancy me an egotist. It were too good fortune
to be able to attend to such matters, to the exclusion of
more annoying ones: may God vouchsafe it me."
Though much of this detail regards the accompanying entertainment
more than the comedy, it cannot be deemed out of place, as
illustrative of the way in which these were managed in a court where
we have frequent occasion to allude to such pastimes: the preceding
description fully explains the often-mentioned _moresca_, and almost
entitles us to translate that word by the better known French
_ballet_. The _Calandra_ continued to be played on select occasions
in Italy, and we hear of its being produced at Lyons in 1548, before
Catherine de' Medici and her husband, whose largess to the actors
exceeded 2500 crowns.
This piece, though improved in incidents, is avowedly indebted
for its plot to the _Menecmo_ of Plautus, a comedy already
popular through a translation performed at Ferrara, in 1486-7, by
the children and courtiers of Ercole I., in a theatre built on
purpose within the palace-yard, and costing with its decorations
1000 ducats. In regard to its proper merits, no one can deny the
amusing complexity of the plot, the constant succession of absurd
mistakes among the personages, the ingenious contrivances by which
these are alternately occasioned and extricated, the bustle of the
entertainment, and the racy humour of the dialogue. In order to let
these be appreciated, an analysis larger than our space can permit
would be necessary, and neither the character nor the wit of the
piece could be preserved without introducing intrigues and language
repugnant to modern decency. Ginguené has conveyed a tolerable
idea of the comedy without greatly shocking the reader, but has
consequently suppressed much of its fun, and to his pages we must
refer for detail.[98] The story turns upon the adventures of twins,
a brother and sister, who, perfectly resembling in person, but
unknown to each other, are simultaneously parties to love intrigues,
carried on through the agency of a clever valet, and at the cost of a
drivelling husband (Calandro) in the course of which they frequently
interchange the dress and character of their respective sexes, a
magician being ever at hand to bear the blame of what appear physical
transmutations, and a double marriage of course happily solving all
embarrassments. Although unquestionably rich in the materials of
broad farce, it is evident that such a plot is but indifferently
adapted for embodying manners sketched from life.
[Footnote 98: See also Panizzi's London edition of the _Orlando
Innamorato_ and the _Furioso_, vol. VI., p. 59.]
* * * * *
The corruption of morals in Italy during the golden age of her
literature and civilisation is a painful topic, but one naturally
suggested by these remarks, and which cannot with truth be entirely
thrown into the shade.[*99] It was especially developed in the
free gratification of passions to which an enervating climate
is considered peculiarly incentive, and which induce to amorous
indulgence. The due restraint of these was reckoned neither among
the virtues nor the decencies of life, nor was their licentious
exercise limited to persons of exalted station. The sad example set
in luxurious courts spread to classes whose sacred calling and vows
of continence rendered their lapses doubly disgraceful; and those
whose tastes and cultivated understandings were fitted for purer
and nobler pursuits wallowed without discredit in the slough of
sensuality. With such instances, even among the finest characters,
these pages render us unfortunately too familiar. Instead of
multiplying or repeating them, let us hear the calm admissions of a
late writer, whose evidence cannot be deemed partial on such a topic.
In talking of Bembo, the Italian translator of Roscoe's _Leo X._ thus
touches upon this delicate subject: "It must be observed that most
of the poets and writers of that age, although resident at Rome,
and dignified by prelacies, preferments, and offices of the Church,
were infected with the like vices, or, as some would express it,
tarred with the same pitch. The spirit of that court, the manners of
these times, the licence of ideas among literary men, their constant
reading of ancient poets not always commendable for modesty, the
long established and uniform intercourse of the Muses with Bacchus
and Venus, the fatal example afforded by certain cardinals, and
even by several of the papal predecessors of Leo, whose children
were publicly acknowledged ... all these considerations show how
difficult it was at such an epoch, and especially in the capital of
Christendom, to continue exempt from corruption and licentiousness."
[Footnote *99: This hardly needs comment: it has become universally
accepted as the truth. The _Prediche Volgari_ of Fra Bernardino
afford ample evidence, as do the _Novelle_ generally. I shall
therefore confine myself to referring to two English writers who have
treated of this subject: WILLIAM HEYWOOD, _The Ensamples of
Fra Filippo_ (Siena, 1902), pp. 118, 122 _et seq._ and 295 _et seq._,
who gives an infinite number of authorities and is exhaustive in his
evidence; VERNON LEE, _Euphorion_ (Fisher Unwin, 1899), pp.
25-109, who treats of it in two essays, _The Sacrifice_ and _The
Italy of the Elizabethan Dramatist_, with exquisite understanding and
the wide tolerance of a poet. Nothing is to be gained by going into
this subject so casually as Dennistoun does. He speaks of the Italian
genius without understanding either its strength or its weakness. He
judges Machiavelli, for instance, or Cesare Borgia, as one might have
judged an Englishman of the depressing age he himself lived in, and
thus his judgment is at fault in regard to nearly every great man of
whom he writes.]
In no language, perhaps, does there exist a jest-book more
disgustingly prurient or so full of sacrilegious ribaldry as
the _Facetiæ_ of Poggio Bracciolini. Were such a work published
now-a-days, the author would be hooted from society, and the printer
laid hold of as a common nuisance. Though the parties to above half
its obscene anecdotes are from the clergy or the monastic orders,
there occurs throughout the foul volume no word of blame nor burst
of indignation. Yet it was compiled for publication by a priest,
the confidential secretary of pontiffs, and one of the stars of a
literary age. If more direct evidence of dissolute habits among the
clergy be required, it will be found in the reports of P. Ambrogio
Traversari on his disciplinarian circuits among the Camaldolese
convents, of which he was general from 1431 to 1434.[100] It would
be loathsome to enter upon the details, but a generally lax morality
among those specially devoted to religious profession must be
considered as at once the occasion and the effect of much social
perversion. The poison disseminated from such a quarter was sure
to pervade all ranks, and the standard of public decency must have
sunk low indeed ere monastic debauchery ceased to create universal
scandal. When churchmen had become very generally latitudinarians in
theology and libertines in morals, the corruption of their flocks
need be no matter of surprise. It was in the beginning of the
sixteenth century that these evils had reached their height, and
the miseries of foreign invasion under the Medicean popes were even
then regarded by many as judicial inflictions from Heaven. Hence was
it, that, although Italy was supereminent among nations, although
illustrated by the triumphs of mind, adorned by the productions of
genius, and enriched by the gains of intelligent enterprise, she was
nevertheless deficient in moral power, and when tried in the furnace
of adversity was found wanting. With institutions whose freedom had
no longer vitality, with rulers intent only on selfish ends, and with
citizens relaxed in principle and knit by no common political ties,
the very advantages lavished upon her by nature and civilisation
proved her bane, attracting spoilers whom she was powerless to
resist. Melancholy is the thought that all her mental superiority
was ineffectual for her defence; but yet more humiliating the fact
that those on whom nature's best gifts were showered, and who were
foremost as protectors of literature and the arts, were often, by
their fatal example, chief promoters of the general demoralisation.
No wonder then that she fell, and in her fall presented a signal
lesson to future times "of the impotence of human genius and of the
instability of human institutions, however excellent in themselves,
when unsustained by public and private virtue."[101]
[Footnote 100: Hodoeporicon and Epistola, _passim_.]
[Footnote 101: PRESCOTT'S _Ferdinand and Isabella_.]