Volume I Part 11 (1/2)
both of which have been happily translated by Roscoe; and to these may be added the address to Cytherea--
Lascia l' isola tua tanta diletta!
Lascia il tuo regno delicato e bello Ciprigna Dea! &c.
There is another, not so well known, distinguished by its peculiar fancy and elegance--
Spesso mi torna a mente, anzi gi mai, &c.
In this he recalls to mind the time and the place, and even the vesture in which his gentle lady first appeared to him--
Quanto vaga, gentil, leggiadra, e pia Non si pu dir, ne imaginar a.s.sai;
and he beautifully adds,
Quale sopra i nevosi, ed alti monti Apollo spande il s...o...b..l lume adorno, Tal' i crin suoi sopra la bianca gonna!
Il tempo e 'l luogo non convien ch' io conti, Che dov' si bel sole sempre giorno; E Paradiso, ov' si bella Donna!
”As over the snowy summits of the high mountains Apollo sheds his golden beams, so flowed her golden tresses over her white vest.--But for the _time_ and the _place_, is it necessary that I should note them? Where s.h.i.+nes so fair a sun, can it be other than day? Where dwells so excellent a beauty, can it be other than Paradise?”
It happened in the midst of Lorenzo's visions of love and poetry, that he was called upon to give his hand to a wife chosen by his father for political reasons. His inclinations were not consulted, as is plain from the blunt amusing manner in which he has noted it down in his memoranda. ”I, Lorenzo, took to wife Donna Clarice Orsini,--or rather she was given to me, (ovvero mi fu data) on such a day.” Yet a union thus inauspiciously contracted, was rendered, by the affectionate disposition of Lorenzo, and the amiable qualities of his wife, rather happy than otherwise; it is true, we have no poetical compliments addressed by Lorenzo to Donna Clarice, but there is extant a little billet written to her a few months after their marriage, from the tone of which it is fair to suppose, that Lorenzo had exchanged his poetic flame for a real attachment to an amiable woman.[62]
There is a very beautiful and elegant pa.s.sage in the beginning of Lorenzo's commentary on his own poems, in which he enlarges on the theory of love. ”The conditions (he says) which appear necessarily to belong to a true, exalted, and worthy love, are two. First,--_to love but one_: secondly,--_to love that one always_. Not many lovers have hearts so generous as to be capable of fulfilling these two conditions; and exceedingly few women display sufficient attractions to withhold men from the violation of them; yet without these there is no true love.”
And afterwards, enumerating those charms of person and mind which inspire affection, he adds, ”and yet these estimable qualities are not enough, unless the lover possess sensibility of heart to discern them, and elevation and generosity of soul to appreciate them.”
This in the original is very elegantly expressed, and the sentiment is as true as it is exalted and graceful; but that Lorenzo was not always thus philosophically refined, that he could descend from these Platonics to be impa.s.sioned and in earnest, and that when touched to the heart, he could pour forth the language of the heart, we have a single instance, which it is impossible to allude to without feeling some emotion of curiosity, which can never now be gratified.
We find among Lorenzo's poems, written later in life than those addressed to Lucretia Donati, one ent.i.tled simply ”An Elegy;” the style is different from that of his earlier poetry, and has more of the terseness and energy of Dante than the sweetness and flow of Petrarch.
It begins
”Vinto dagli amorosi, empi martiri.”
”Subdued by the fierce pangs of my love, a thousand times have I taken up the pen, to tell thee, O gentle lady mine, all the sighs of my sick heart. Then fearing thy displeasure, I have, on a second thought, flung it from me. * * * Yet must I speak, for if words were wanting, my pallid cheek would betray my suffering.”
He then tells her that he does not seek her dishonour, but only her kind thoughts, and that he may find a place within her gentle heart.
Perch non cerco alcun tuo disonore, Ma sol la grazia tua, e che piaci Che'l mio albergo sia dentro al tuo core!
He wishes that he might be once permitted to twine his fingers in her fair hair; to gaze into her eyes;--but he complains that she will not even meet his look,--that she resolutely turns her eyes another way at his approach.--”But do with me what thou wilt: while I live upon this earth, still I must love thee, since it so pleaseth Heaven--I swear it!
and my hand writes it!
”Come then! oh come, while yet thy gracious looks may avail me, for delay is death to one who loves likes me! Would I could send with this scroll all the torture of heart, the tears and sighs, the gesture and the look, that should accompany it!”
Ma s' egli avvien, che soletti ambo insieme, Posso il braccio tenerti al collo avvolto, Vedrai come d'amore alto arde e geme, Vedrai cader dal mio pallido volto, Nel tuo candido sen lagrime tante.
(I leave these lines untranslated for the benefit of the Italian reader). After a few more stanzas, we have this very unequivocal pa.s.sage: