Volume I Part 4 (1/2)
says Petrarch in one of his familiar letters,[24] ”when I shall have calmness enough to contemplate all the misery of my soul, to examine my pa.s.sion, not however, that I may continue to love her--but that I may love thee alone, O my G.o.d! But at this day, how many obstacles have I yet to surmount, how many efforts have I yet to make! I no longer love as I did love, but still I love; I love in spite of myself--in lamentations and in tears. I will hate her--No!--I must still love her!”
Seven years afterwards he writes,--”my love is extreme, but it is exclusive and virtuous--virtuous!--no!--this disquietude, these suspicions, these transports, this watchfulness, this utter weariness of every thing, are not signs of a virtuous love!” What a picture of an impa.s.sioned and distracted heart!
And who was this Laura, the ill.u.s.trious object of a pa.s.sion which has filled the wide universe from side to side with her name and fame? What was her station, her birth, her lineage? What were her transcendant qualities of person, heart, and mind, that she should have swayed, with such despotic and distracting power, one of the sovereign spirits of the age? Is it not enough that we acknowledge her to have been Petrarch's love--as chaste as fair?
And whether coldness, pride, or virtue, dignify A woman, so she is good, what does it signify?
In the present case, it signifies much:--we are not to be put off with a witty or satirical couplet:--the insatiable curiosity which Laura has excited from age to age--the volumes which have been written on the subject--are a proof of the sincerity of her lover; for nothing but truth could ever inspire this lasting and universal interest. But without diving into these dry disputations, let us take Laura's portrait from Petrarch himself, drawn, it will be said, by the partial hand of a poetic lover:--true; but since Laura is interesting to us from the charms she possessed in his eyes, it were unfair to seek her portraiture elsewhere.
Laura was of high birth and station, though her life was spent in retirement and domestic cares;
In n.o.bil sangue, vita umile e quete.
Her father, Audibert de Noves, was of the _haute n.o.blesse_ of Avignon, and died in her infancy, leaving her a dowry of 1000 gold crowns, (about 10,000 pounds)--a magnificent portion for those times. She was married at the age of eighteen to Hugh de Sade, a man of rank equal to her own, and of corresponding age, but not distinguished by any advantages either of person or mind. The marriage contract is dated in January, 1325, two years before her first meeting with Petrarch: and in it, her mother, the Lady Ermessende, and brother John de Noves, stipulate to pay the dower left by her father; and also to bestow on the bride two magnificent dresses for state occasions; one of green, embroidered with violets; the other of crimson, trimmed with feathers. In all the portraits of Laura now extant, she is represented in one of these two dresses, and they are frequently alluded to by Petrarch. He tells us expressly, that when he first met her at matins in the Church of St. Claire, she was habited in a robe of green, spotted with violets.[25] Mention is also made of a coronal of silver, with which she wreathed her hair; of her necklaces and ornaments of pearl. Diamonds are not once alluded to, because the art of cutting them had not then been invented. From all which, it appears that Laura was opulent, and moved in the first cla.s.s of society.
It was customary for the women of rank, in those times, to dress with extreme simplicity on ordinary occasions, but with the most gorgeous splendour when they appeared in public. There are some beautiful descriptions of Laura surrounded by her young female companions, divested of all her splendid apparel, in a simple white robe and a few flowers in her hair; but still pre-eminent over all by her superior loveliness. From the frequent allusions to her dress, and Petrarch's angry apostrophes to her mirror, because it a.s.sisted to heighten charms already too destructive,[26] we may infer that Laura was not unmindful of the cares of the toilette.
She was in person a fair Madonna-like beauty with soft dark eyes, and a profusion of pale golden hair parted on her brow, and falling in rich curls over her neck. He dwells on the celestial grace of her figure and movements, ”l' andar celeste.”
Non era l' andar suo cosa mortale Ma d' angelica forma.
He describes the beauty of her hand in the 166th sonnet,--
O bella man che mi distringi il core.
And the loveliness of her mouth,--
La bella bocca angelica.
The general character of her beauty must have been pensive, soft, un.o.btrusive, and even somewhat languid:
L' angelica sembianza umile e piana-- L' atto mansueto, umile e tardo--
the last line is exquisitely characteristic. This extreme softness and repose must have been far removed from insipidity; for he dwells also on the rare and varying expression of her loveliness, ”Leggiadria singolare e pellegrina;”--the lightning of her smile, ”Il lampeggiar dell'
angelico riso;”--and the tender magic of her voice, which was felt in the inmost heart, ”Il cantar che nell' anima si sente.” She had a habit of veiling her eyes with her hand, and her looks were generally bent on the earth, ”o per umiltade o per orgoglio.” In the portrait of Laura, which I saw at the Laurentian Library at Florence, the eyes have this characteristic downcast look. Her lover complains also of a veil, which she was fond of wearing. Wandering in the country, one summer's day, he sees a young peasant-girl was.h.i.+ng a veil in the running stream; he recognises the very texture which had so often intervened between him and the heaven of Laura's beauty, and he trembles as if he had been in the presence of Laura herself. This little incident is the subject of the first Madrigal.
He describes her dignified humility, ”l' umilt superba;”--her beautiful silence, ”il bel tacere;”--her frequent sighs, ”i sospir soavemente rotti;”--her sweet disdain and gentle repulses, ”dolci sdegni, placide repulse;”--the gesture which spoke without the aid of words, ”l'atto che parla con silenzio.” The picture, it must be confessed, is most finished, most delicate, most beautiful;--supposing only half to be true, it is still beautiful. But far more flattering, and more honourable to Laura, is her lover's confession of the influence which her charming character possessed over him; for it is certain that we owe to Laura's exquisite purity of mind and manners, the polished delicacy of the homage addressed to her. Pa.s.sing over, of course, the circ.u.mstance of her being a married woman, and therefore not a proper object of amorous verse,--there is not in all the poetry she inspired, a line or sentiment which angels might not hear and approve. Petrarch represents her as expressing neither surprise nor admiration at the self-sacrifice of Lucretia, but only wondering that shame and grief had not antic.i.p.ated the dagger of the Roman matron. He describes her conversation, ”pien d'intelletti dolci ed alti,” and her mind ever serene, though her countenance was pensive, ”in aspetto pensoso, anima lieta.” He tells us that she had raised him above all low-thoughted cares, and purified his heart from all base desires. ”I bless the place, the time, the hour, when I presumed to lift my eyes upon her,--I say, O my soul, thankful shouldst thou be that hast been deemed worthy of such high honour--for from her spring those gentle thoughts which shall lead thee to aspire to the highest good, and to disdain all that the vulgar mind desires.”
I' benedico il loco e 'l tempo e l'ora Che si alti miraron gli occhi mici; E dico: anima, a.s.sai ringraziar dei Che fosti a tanto onor degnata allora.
Da lei ti vien l' amoroso pensiero Che, mentre 'l segui all' Sommo ben t'invia Poco prezzando quel ch' ogni uom desia.
Every generous feeling, every n.o.ble and elevated sentiment, every desire for improvement, he refers to her, and to her only:
S' alcun bel frutto Nasce di me, da voi vien prima il seme.
Io per me son quasi un terreno asciutto Colto da voi; e 'l pregio vostro in tutto.