Part 3 (2/2)

But now I know my una.s.sisted wit Is all too weak to make me soar so high; For pardon, lady, for this fault I cry, And wiser still I grow remembering it.

Yea, well I see what folly 'twere to think That largess dropped from thee like dews from heaven Could e'er be paid by work so frail as mine!

To nothingness my art and talent sink; He fails who from his mortal stores hath given A thousandfold to match one gift divine.

XIV.

FIRST READING.

TO VITTORIA COLONNA.

_THE MODEL AND THE STATUE._

_Da che concetto._

When divine Art conceives a form and face, She bids the craftsman for his first essay To shape a simple model in mere clay: This is the earliest birth of Art's embrace.

From the live marble in the second place His mallet brings into the light of day A thing so beautiful that who can say When time shall conquer that immortal grace?

Thus my own model I was born to be-- The model of that n.o.bler self, whereto Schooled by your pity, lady, I shall grow.

Each overplus and each deficiency You will make good. What penance then is due For my fierce heat, chastened and taught by you?

XIV.

SECOND READING.

To VITTORIA COLONNA.

_THE MODEL AND THE STATUE._

_Se ben concetto._

When that which is divine in us doth try To shape a face, both brain and hand unite To give, from a mere model frail and slight, Life to the stone by Art's free energy.

Thus too before the painter dares to ply Paint-brush or canvas, he is wont to write Sketches on sc.r.a.ps of paper, and invite Wise minds to judge his figured history.

So, born a model rude and mean to be Of my poor self, I gain a n.o.bler birth, Lady, from you, you fountain of all worth!

Each overplus and each deficiency You will make good. What penance then is due For my fierce heat, chastened and taught by you?

XV.

_THE LOVER AND THE SCULPTOR._

_Non ha l' ottimo artista._

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