father was an official in the service of the Duke, and young
Ferrari’s liberal sentiments were a great disadvantage to him at
the outset of his career. It is even said (with what truth I do
not know) that they induced the Duke to interfere with the
granting of his University degree, which was delayed for a long
time. But Ferrari’s legal studies had been pursued with so little
ardour as to suggest another reason for the action of the
University authorities. His first comedy was written in 1847, and
was called _Bartolommeo the Shoemaker_, a title afterwards changed
to _Uncle Venanzio’s Codicil_. After contending with many
difficulties, he wrote his _Goldoni_ in 1852, but had to wait two
years before it was produced, when it was a signal success. Since
then he has given to the world a long series of works, chiefly
comedies, and the Italians consider him their first comic
dramatist. Some of his greatest successes are his dramas, drawn
from Italian history, in which the characters—unlike those in the
ordinary historical drama—are rather literary than political. Such
are _Dante a Verona_, _Parini e la Satira_, and the
above-mentioned _Goldoni e le sue Sedici Commedie_. He writes
either in prose or in a kind of rhymed alexandrines called _Versi
Martelliani_. Of his other dramas the greatest are _Il Duello_,
_Il Suicidio_, _Gli amici rivali_, _Cause ed effetti_, _Il
Ridicolo_, _Gli Uomini Serii_. Nearly all of his plays which are
still on the stage have obtained the Government prize offered in
Italy for dramatic excellence. (_Page 237._)
PIERO FRANCESCO LEOPOLDO COCCOLUTO FERRIGNI, better known under the
name of “Yorick,” is a Tuscan writer; born at Leghorn in 1836,
though of Neapolitan descent. He began his literary career in 1854
by contributing “correspondence” to some of the Florentine papers.
In 1856 he first adopted the pseudonym which has become so
famous—from Hamlet, not from Sterne. Indeed, when he became
acquainted with the latter’s works, he felt as if he had been
guilty of presumption, and thenceforth signed his articles,
_Yorick, son of Yorick_. He took a brilliant law degree at Siena
in 1857, and has made his mark as an advocate, though his
reputation is principally journalistic and literary. Florentine
newsboys may be heard using his name to enhance the attractions of
their wares. “C’è l’articolo di Yorick,” they will say, or more
briefly, “C’è Yorick!” (There’s Yorick in it). Like many living
Italian writers, he bore his part in the War of Liberation. He
volunteered in 1859, when, for some time, he acted as Garibaldi’s
private secretary, and in 1860 he was wounded at Milazzo. He is a
writer of great ease and fluency—and not in his own language
only—sending contributions in French to the _Indépendance
Italienne_, and in German to the _Neue Freie Presse_. He appears
to be one of the few Italians who have found literature
profitable. Many of his newspaper articles have been collected in
volume form. The specimens here quoted are taken from “Cronache
dei Bagni di Mare” (part of which was reproduced in English by the
_Morning Post_), and “Su e giù per Firenze.” (_Page 232._)
ANTONIO GHISLANZONI, son of a doctor at Lecco, on the Lake of Como,
was born in 1824. His father first wished him to become a priest,
and then sent him to study medicine at Pavia; but the youth,
finding that he possessed a splendid baritone, studied singing
instead, and in 1846 obtained an engagement at the Lodi Theatre.
In 1848 he took to journalism, and ran two papers at Milan; the
extreme political opinions advocated in which soon landed him in
prison. After the return of the Austrians he was exiled, and,
after another imprisonment in Corsica, continued his musical
career there and in Paris, till he lost his voice (in 1854) in
consequence of an attack of bronchitis, and returned to literature
and Italy. He edited various papers, wrote a variety of articles,
mostly of a comic character, and composed the _libretti_ to
several operas, of which the best known is Verdi’s _Aida_. For
some time past he has resided in a little house of his own at
Lecco. He edited, and in great part wrote, the _Rivista Minima_,
which afterwards passed into the hands of his friend, Salvatore
Farina. (_Page 94._)
GIUSEPPE GIUSTI, born at Monsummano, in Val di Nievole (Tuscany), in
1809. He received his early education, between the ages of seven
and twelve, from a priest; its results being, to use his own
words, “sundry canings, not a shadow of Latin, a few glimmerings
of history, discouragement, irritation, weariness, and an inward
conviction that I was good for nothing.” He then attended a school
in Florence, where he came under the care of more intelligent and
sympathetic masters, and began to awaken to the love of knowledge.
He afterwards went to the University of Pisa, but (like our own
Wordsworth and others) made no special progress in the studies
proper to the place. In later life he lamented the idleness and
desultory habits of these years; but it is probable that, in
following the bent of his intellect towards popular and general
literature, and picking up songs and stories in the racy idiom of
the Tuscan hills, he was laying the best possible foundation for
his future career as a poet. His health was never good, and he
died, comparatively young, in 1850, thus disappointing the
brilliant expectations his friends had formed. What he did
accomplish, however, is sufficient to secure him a place in the
first rank of modern Italian literature. Besides the _Poems_ (of
which several collected editions have been published) his
principal works are a collection of Tuscan proverbs (with
introduction and notes) and a _Discourse on the Life and Works of
Giuseppe Parini_, the satirist. Since his death there have been
published a volume of his letters, and one of unpublished pieces
in prose and verse, the principal of which is a commentary on
Dante’s _Divina Commedia_. His poems are peculiarly difficult to
translate, on account of their exceedingly idiomatic character, as
well as, in many cases, of their personal and political bearing.
They have a directness, vigour, and pungency rare in the
literature of Italy during the first half of this century. His
political satire rises sometimes into noble indignation, as in the
fine poem beginning, _A noi, larve d’Italia_, which has been
translated into English, if we mistake not, at least twice. His
non-political satire is always kindly and good-humoured, and the
same spirit, along with an irrepressible cheerfulness and boyish
love of fun, comes out in his letters—especially those to his
intimate friend, Manzoni. (_Page 74._)
COUNT GASPARO GOZZI, elder brother of Carlo Gozzi, the dramatist, was
a Venetian, and lived from 1713 to 1786. The Gozzi family might be
described as that of “a penniless laird wi’ a lang pedigree,” and
the _Memoirs of Count Carlo_ contain a vivid account of the
straits and shifts to which they were put. Gasparo hoped to
retrieve the family circumstances by his marriage with a learned
lady given to poetry, Luisa Bergalli or Bargagli (who rejoiced in
the academic title of Irminda Partenide); but her extravagance and
shiftlessness only made matters worse, and he was forced to do
anonymous hack-work—translations from the French, and the like—for
a living; or, as he calls it, to wear himself out “in unknown
writings with the daily sweat of one’s brow, and drag works—either
insignificant or vile—out of the Gallic idiom into the Italian
language.” Notwithstanding this, he contrived to do a tolerable
amount of work which has lasted. His style is simple, clear, and
pure, though without much vigour; and, as Cantù says, he has the
gift of “coupling fancy with observation, and wit with feeling.”
He issued for some time a paper called _L’Osservatore_ on the plan
of Addison’s _Spectator_. He wrote a great many “Bernesque”
poems—sonnets _a coda_, and satirical pieces in blank verse. His
letters also are excellent. (_Page 53._)
GIACOMO LEOPARDI, born at Recanati, in the Duchy of Urbino, in 1798,
suffered all his life from ill-health and real or fancied
uncongenial surroundings. He was heavily handicapped in the race
of life, being hunchbacked, as well as constitutionally diseased;
and thus the pessimistic doctrines which he imbibed from Pietro
Giordani fell on a fertile soil. His father was rich and possessed
a splendid library, and though he refused to allow Giacomo to go
away to school, the boy threw himself into his studies at home
with so much ardour that at fifteen he was a brilliant classical
scholar, and wrote an ode in Greek which competent critics
believed to be ancient. Yet he long remained unknown, thwarted by
his father’s harshness in all his efforts to obtain a wider
culture and more literary opportunities. At last he was able to
escape from his hated home to Rome, where he enjoyed the society
of literary men; but could not succeed, as he had hoped, in
obtaining some professorship. He then, embittered and disgusted
with the world, retired to Milan, where he lived in the house of a
publisher and prepared his poems for the press. Here too he was
unable to escape from the misery which pursued him, and his health
became worse and worse. At last, in the autumn of 1831, he took
his last journey—to Naples, where Antonio Ranieri, his untiring
friend, received him into his house. There, worn out by dropsy and
consumption, he died on July 14th, 1837. Of his philosophical
works, and his splendid, gloomy verse, it is not the place to
speak. I have included him in this collection on account of some
of his dialogues, which are masterpieces of a subtle irony which
has the air of simplicity and bites to the bone. It is keener and
more delicate than Swift’s, but otherwise very difficult to
describe. One cannot easily imagine that Leopardi ever laughed;
but no one could read the “First Hour and the Sun,” or the “Wager
of Prometheus,” and think him wanting in humour. (_Page 63._)
NICCOLO MACHIAVELLI, a Florentine, lived from 1469 to 1527. His place
in this volume is due to his comedy of _La Mandragola_, of which a
scene is given; but this, of course, is not the work by which he
is best known in history. Macaulay’s well-known essay gives a very
good summary of his political and literary labours. He first took
part in public affairs in 1494; in 1498 he was elected Secretary
to the Florentine Republic, an office which he resigned in 1512,
after the return of the Medici. Some time afterwards, being
suspected of a conspiracy against the latter, he was imprisoned
and put to the torture, nearly dying under it. He was included in
the amnesty proclaimed by Giovanni di Medici, when raised to the
Papacy under the title of Leo X. Though restored to liberty, he
could take no part in politics, and finding himself unable to
serve Florence, and condemned to a hateful inaction, he retired to
his country-house, where he wrote the greater part of his works.
The last of these was the _History of Florence_, written at the
request of Pope Clement VII., and completed in 1525. In 1519 Leo
X. consulted him about reforming the government of Florence, but
his advice was not followed. In 1526, when the Constable Bourbon
began to threaten Tuscany and Rome, Clement VII. again consulted
Machiavelli, and entrusted him with the fortification of Florence,
and with the precautions to be taken for the safety of Rome; but
these precautions came too late. The Pope was taken prisoner, and
the Medici once more driven from Florence; and Machiavelli being
now looked upon as a partisan of that family, fell into neglect,
and may be said to have died of grief and disappointment. His
chief works besides the _History_, are the _Prince_, the _Art of
War_, and the _Discourses on the First Decade of Livy_. Besides
this, he wrote two or three comedies and a witty _novella_
(somewhat extravagant, though, in its satire), entitled
_Belphegor_. It relates how one of the devils, taking the form of
a man, came to earth in order to try the experiment of matrimony;
but was so very wretched in his married life, that, after a short
trial, he preferred returning to the region whence he came. It is
said that Machiavelli’s experiences in his own home gave point to
his descriptions of Madonna Onesta’s folly and extravagance. The
_Mandragola_, in spite of Macaulay’s high praise, offers scarcely
anything adapted for quotation. The play is admirably constructed,
but the story is one which would render it “impossible” for a
modern audience. We have been forced to confine ourselves to a
soliloquy of Fra Timoteo’s and one of the lyrical interludes
between the acts, which has the merit of brevity, if no other.
(_Page 26._)
ALESSANDRO MANZONI, born at Milan 1784, died 1873. One of the leaders
of the Romantic Movement in Italy, and the founder (in that
country) of the historical novel in the style of Scott. The
_Promessi Sposi_, published in 1827 (from which we have quoted a
scene or two), has probably been translated into every European
language. Less widely known are his tragedies, _Adelchi_ and _Il
Conte di Carmagnola_, and his _Odes_ (1815), the most famous of
which is that on the death of Napoleon—_Il Cinque Maggio_. He was
followed in the department of historical fiction by his
son-in-law, D’Azeglio, and by Grossi, Guerrazzi, Rosini, Ademollo,
and others. Though at first sight _I Promessi Sposi_ might seem
anything but a humorous work, there are scenes equal in this
respect to some of the best in Scott’s novels. That of the
attempted irregular marriage (which we have chosen for quotation)
is especially good, and the character of Don Abbondio is comically
conceived throughout. Perhaps the book has been somewhat neglected
of late years—it has certainly, like many other masterpieces,
suffered undeservedly through being used as a school-book. (_Page
82._)
FILIPPO PANANTI was born at Ronta, in the district of Mugello
(Tuscany), about 1776, and studied law at Pisa, but afterwards
gave himself up entirely to literature. He went abroad in 1799,
and after visiting France, Spain, and Holland, obtained a position
as libretto-writer to the Italian Opera in London. When returning
to Italy by sea he was taken prisoner by Algerine pirates, but
liberated through the intervention of the English consul. “He then
came to Florence, and published his works—viz., _Il Poeta di
Teatro_, _Prose e Versi_, _Viaggio in Algeria_, in which it may be
said that he is often negligent rather than simple, and that he
makes use unnecessarily of foreign expressions, or of such as are
not yet accepted as current in the conversation of the best
educated persons; yet he pleases, nevertheless, and deserves to do
so, by his vivid and racy way of expressing himself, and his ease
and fluency. He died in 1837.”—(AMBROSOLI.) _Il Poeta di Teatro_
is a lively and amusing poem descriptive of the miseries endured
by a poet of small means. It is thoroughly good-humoured
throughout, and has no “Grub Street bitterness” about it. We have
extracted one or two passages. (_Page 70._)
GIROLAMO PARABOSCO, born at Piacenza about the beginning of the
sixteenth century, died at Venice, 1557. He wrote “Rime” and prose
comedies, and was, moreover, esteemed one of the best musicians of
his time. He was for some time organist and choirmaster at St.
Mark’s, Venice. But he is best known by _I Diporti_, a collection
of stories after the model of Boccaccio’s _Decameron_, supposed to
be told by a fowling-party weatherbound on an island in the
Venetian lagoons. (_Page 14._)
MARIO PRATESI, a Tuscan writer, was born at Santafiora, in the
district of Monte Amiata, in 1842. At eighteen he became a clerk
in a Government office, and remained at this distasteful
employment till 1864, when he returned to his studies, and in 1872
obtained an appointment as lecturer on Italian literature at the
Pavia Technical Institute, whence he passed to a similar post at
Viterbo, and thence to Terni. Most of his stories, since collected
in volume form, first appeared in the _Nuova Antologia_, and he
has contributed to the _Diritto_, the _Rassegna Settimanale_, and
the _Nazione_ (Florence). He has also written poems. He is at his
best when describing the scenery of his native mountains. Monte
Amiata, it may be remembered, was the scene of the strange
religious revival led by the insane peasant-preacher, David
Lazzaretti, who was shot down by the gendarmes in August 1878. It
is a wild, lonely region, lying between the river Ombrone and the
Roman border—a land of craggy peaks and dark glens, inhabited by
simple, serious-minded people with a touch of gloomy mysticism in
their character, perhaps due to Etruscan ancestry. The immediate
neighbourhood of the district where the tragedy took place is
admirably described in “Sovana.” Pratesi is intensely sympathetic
in his manner of depicting life. He does not aim at an
“objectivity” which seems to glory in appearing cold and
heartless; but he does not dwell unnecessarily on his pathetic
scenes. He relates them with grim brevity, and leaves them to
produce their own effect. He has an eye for the ludicrous, but it
does not predominate in his view of life; he never laughs, but he
often smiles quietly, and sometimes grimly. _Dottor Febo_ is a
good example of his subtle irony, and has been given entire, as no
detached passage would show to advantage. He is fully alive to the
great evils of priestcraft and ignorance from which Italy has
suffered in the past, but he is no radical of the type which is
all negation and no affirmation. His attitude towards the clergy
is impartial enough—he has drawn them of all sorts, good and bad.
In the story before us there are three, and those who have resided
any length of time in Italy must have met them all: the spiteful,
hypocritical preaching friar, the jovial, easy-going _Arciprete_
(who would have overlooked the sin of a bit of meat on Ash
Wednesday if that meddling rascal of a Franciscan had not put his
finger in the pie), and the chaplain of the _Confraternità_, in
his threadbare coat,—own brother to Chaucer’s Parson. Though in
the stories here translated I have usually left all proper names
in their original form, I have in this instance departed from the
rule, in order to bring out the quaint incongruity of the hero’s
name with his pitifully sordid life and surroundings, _Febo_ not
being perhaps readily recognisable at first sight as _Phœbus_.
Names as classical as this are by no means uncommon in the Roman
and Tuscan country districts. Romolo and its feminine Romola are
frequently met with, as also Belisario, Ersilia, Flaminia, etc.
Naples and the Adriatic coast show a greater preference for Church
saints; and a peculiarity of the latter district is the frequent
occurrence of Old Testament names, which are not usual in other
parts. Perhaps this is due to Byzantine influence, and the more
comprehensive calendar of the Eastern Church; thus we find
Samuele, Zacchiele, Elia, etc. The subject of Christian names in
rural Italy is an interesting one, and would well repay study,
especially in villages where reading is almost unknown, and the
names in use must be to a large extent traditional, and probably
handed down from remote antiquity. (_Page 206._)
“ANTONIO PUCCI, the son of a bell-founder, was a poet, although he
kept a shop; and had not a little of that easy, sparkling vein
which, a century later, was so abundant in Berni, as to make the
latter seem like the creator of a new style of poetry. He died in
Florence, his native city, some time after 1375.” This is all I
can find with regard to Pucci in Ambrosoli’s _Manual of Italian
Literature_. The sonnet in which he describes the persecutions to
which a poet is subject at the hands of his friends is a not
unfavourable specimen of what the Italians call _poesia bernesca_.
This kind of sonnet is called “sonetto _a coda_,” or “with a
tail,” and is much used in humorous and satirical writing, as
being a kind in which more licence is allowable metrically, when
the idea cannot be brought within the limits of the strict sonnet
form. The “tail” may be lengthened at pleasure, but always in sets
of three lines—one short and two long—and sometimes attains to a
greater length than the original sonnet. (_Page 1._)