Part 24

33.—“I do not see how this can help,” replied messer Bernardo Bibbiena; “for it has several times happened to me, and I think to many others, that having been led by the word of persons of judgment to imagine something to be of great excellence before I saw it,—on seeing it I found it paltry and was much disappointed of what I expected. And the reason was simply that I had put too much trust in report and formed in my mind so high an expectation, that although the real thing was great and excellent, yet when afterwards measured by the fact, it seemed very paltry by comparison with what I had imagined. And I fear it may be so with our Courtier too. Therefore I do not see the advantage of raising such expectations and sending our fame before us; for the mind often imagines things that it is impossible to fulfil, and thus we lose more than we gain.”

Here messer Federico said:

“The things that you and many others find inferior to their reputation, are for the most part of such sort that the eye can judge of them at a glance,—as if you had never been at Naples or Rome, and from hearing them so much talked of, you were to imagine something far beyond what they afterwards proved to be when seen; but such is not the case with men’s character, because that which is outwardly seen is the least part. Thus, on first hearing a gentleman speak, if you should not find in him that worth which you had previously imagined, you would not at once reverse your good opinion of him, as you would in those matters whereof the eye is instant judge, but you would wait from day to day to discover some other hidden virtue, still holding fast to the good impression you had received from so many lips; and later, if he were thus richly endowed (as I assume our Courtier to be), your confidence in his reputation would be hourly confirmed, because his acts would justify it, and you would be always imagining something more than you saw.

34.—“And surely it cannot be denied that these first impressions have very great weight, and that we ought to be very careful regarding them. And to the end that you may see how important they are, I tell you that in my time I knew a gentleman, who, while he was of very gentle aspect and modest manners and also valiant in arms, yet did not so greatly excel in any of these things but that he had many equals and even superiors. However, fate so willed that a lady chanced to fall most ardently in love with him, and her love increasing daily with the signs that the young man gave of loving her in return, and there being no way for them to speak together, she was moved by excess of passion to reveal her desires to another lady through whom she hoped to secure some assistance. This lady was in no wise inferior to the first in rank or beauty; whence it came to pass, that on hearing the young man (whom she had never seen) spoken of so tenderly, and perceiving that he was extravagantly loved by her friend (whom she knew to be very discreet and of excellent judgment), she straightway imagined him to be the handsomest and wisest and most discreet and in short the most lovable man in the world. And thus, without having seen him, she became so passionately enamoured of him, that she began making every effort to secure him, not for her friend but for herself, and inducing him to return her love: which she succeeded in doing with little effort, for in truth she was a lady rather to be wooed than to woo others.

“Now hear the end of my tale. Not long afterwards it happened that a letter, which this second lady had written to her lover, fell into the hands of still another lady, also very noble and of good character and rarest beauty,—who, being like most ladies curious and eager to learn secrets and especially other ladies’, opened this letter, and on reading it saw that it was written with the fervour of ardent love. And the sweet, impassioned words that she read first moved her to compassion for that lady, for she well knew from whom the letter came and to whom it was going; then they gained such power, that as she turned them over in her mind and considered what sort of man he must be who could arouse such love in the lady, she too straightway fell in love with him; and the letter had perhaps a greater effect than if it had been sent by the young man to her. And as it sometimes happens that a poisoned dish, intended for a prince, kills the first comer who tastes it, so in her over greediness this poor lady drank the love poison that had been prepared for another.

“What more shall I say? The affair became well known, and spread abroad so that many other ladies besides these, partly to spite the others and partly to imitate them, used every effort and pains to possess themselves of the man’s love, and contended for it with one another as boys contend for cherries. And all this began with the first impression of that lady who saw him so beloved by another.”

35.—Here my lord Gaspar Pallavicino replied, laughing:

“To give reasons in support of your opinion, you cite the doings of women, who for the most part are quite unreasonable. And if you cared to tell the whole truth, this favourite of so many women must have been a dunce and at bottom a man of little worth. For their way is always to favour the meanest, and like sheep to do what they see others doing, whether it be good or evil. Moreover they are so jealous among themselves, that even if the man had been a monster, they would have tried to steal him from one another.”

Here many began to speak, and nearly everyone wanted to contradict my lord Gaspar; but my lady Duchess imposed silence on all, and then said, laughing:

“If the evil you say of women were not so far from the truth, that the saying of it casts blame and shame on him who says it rather than on them, I should allow you to be answered. But I am not willing that, by being confronted with the arguments which it is possible to cite, you should be cured of this evil habit, in order that you may suffer very grievous punishment for your fault: which shall be the bad opinion wherein you will be held by all who hear you argue in such fashion.”

GIACOPO SANNAZARO 1458-1530 ]

Head enlarged from a photograph, specially made by Alinari, of a part of the fresco, “Leo X’s Entry into Florence,” in the Palazzo Vecchio at Florence, by Giorgio Vasari (1511-1574). See Milanesi’s edition of Vasari’s Opere, viii, 142.

Then messer Federico replied:

“My lord Gaspar, do not say that women are so very unreasonable, even if they are sometimes moved to love by others’ judgment rather than by their own; for gentlemen and many wise men do the same. And if I may say the truth, you yourself and all the rest of us here do often and even now trust more to the opinion of others than to our own. And in proof of this, it is not long ago that certain verses, handed about this court under the name of Sannazaro, seemed very excellent to everyone and were praised with wonder and applause; then, it being known for certain that they were by another hand, they promptly sank in reputation and were thought less than mediocre. And a certain motet, which was sung before my lady Duchess, found no favour and was not thought good until it was known to be the work of Josquin de Près.

“What clearer proof of the weight of opinion would you have? Do you not remember that in drinking a certain wine, you at one time pronounced it perfect, and at another most insipid? And this because you believed there were two kinds of wine, one from the Genoese Riviera, and the other from this country; and even when the mistake was discovered, you would not at all believe it,—so firmly fixed in your mind was that wrong opinion, although you had received it from the report of others.

36.—“Hence the Courtier ought to take great care to make a good impression at the start, and to consider how mischievous and fatal a thing it is to do otherwise. And they of all men run this danger, who pride themselves on being very amusing and on having acquired by these pleasantries of theirs a certain freedom that makes it proper and permissible for them to do and say whatever occurs to them, without taking thought about it. Thus they often begin a thing they know not how to finish, and then try to help matters by raising a laugh; and yet they do this so clumsily that it does not succeed, insomuch that they rouse the utmost disgust in him who sees or hears them, and fail most lamentably.

“Sometimes, thinking it to be droll and witty, they say the foulest and most indecent things before and even to honourable ladies; and the more they make these ladies blush, the more they rate themselves good Courtiers, and they laugh and pride themselves on having such a fine accomplishment, as they deem it. Yet they commit all this folly with no other aim than to be esteemed jovial fellows: this is the one name which seems to them worthy of praise and of which they boast more than of any other; and to acquire it, they utter the grossest and most shameful vileness in the world. Often they throw one another down-stairs, clap billets of wood and bricks on one another’s backs, cast handfulls of dust in one another’s eyes, make one another’s horses run into ditches or down some hill; then at table they throw soups, sauces, jellies and every kind of thing in one another’s faces: and then they laugh. And he who can excel the others in these things, esteems himself to be the best Courtier and the most gallant, and thinks he has won great glory. And if they sometimes invite a gentleman to these carouses of theirs, and he does not choose to join in their unmannerly jokes, they at once say he stands too much on his dignity, and holds himself aloof, and is not a jovial fellow. But I have worse to tell you. There are some who rival one another and award the palm to him who can eat and drink the vilest and most offensive things; and they devise dishes so abhorrent to human sense that it is impossible to recall them without extreme disgust.”

37.—“And what may these be?” said my lord Ludovico Pio.

Messer Federico replied:

“Ask the Marquess Febus, who has often seen them in France, and perhaps has taken part.”

The Marquess Febus replied:

“I have seen none of these things done in France that are not done in Italy as well. But what is good among the Italians in dress, sports, banquets, handling arms, and in everything else that befits a Courtier,—all comes from the French.”

Messer Federico replied:

“I do not say that very noble and modest cavaliers are not also to be found among the French, and I myself have known many who were truly worthy of every praise. But some are little circumspect, and generally speaking it seems to me that as regards breeding the Spaniards have more in common with the Italians than the French have; because that grave reserve peculiar to the Spaniards befits us far more than the quick vivacity which among the French we see in almost every movement, and which is not unseemly in them, nay is charming, for it is so natural and proper to them as not to seem at all affected. There are very many Italians who earnestly strive to copy this manner; and they can only shake their heads in speaking and make clumsy crosswise bows, and walk so fast that their lackeys cannot keep up with them when they pass through the city. And with these ways they seem to themselves to be good Frenchmen and to have the same freedom of manner, which in truth rarely happens save with those who have been bred in France and have acquired the manner in their youth.

“The same is true of knowing many languages; which I approve highly in the Courtier, especially Spanish and French, because the intercourse of both these nations with Italy is very frequent, and they have more in common with us than any of the others have; and their two princes, being very powerful in war and very glorious in peace, always have their courts full of noble cavaliers, who spread throughout the world; and it is necessary for us also to converse with them.

38.—“I do not care at present to go more into detail in speaking of things that are too well known, such as that our Courtier ought not to avow himself a great eater or drinker, or given to excess in any evil habit, or vile and ungoverned in his life, with certain peasant ways that recall the hoe and plough a thousand miles away; because a man of this kind not only may not hope to become a good Courtier, but can be set to no more fitting business than feeding sheep.

“And finally I say it were well for the Courtier to know perfectly that which we have said befits him, so that every possible thing may be easy to him, and everyone may marvel at him,—he at no one. But be it understood that there ought not to be in him that lofty and ungenial indifference which some men have who show they are not surprised at what others do because they imagine they can do it better, and who disparage it by silence as not worth speaking of; and they almost seem to imply that no one is their equal or even able to fathom the profundity of their knowledge. Wherefore the Courtier ought to shun these odious ways, and to praise the fine achievements of other men with kindness and good will; and although he may feel that he is admirable and far superior to all, yet he ought to appear not to think so.

“But since such complete perfection as this is very rarely and perhaps never found in human nature, a man who is conscious of being lacking in some particular, ought not to despond thereat or lose hope of reaching a high standard, even though he cannot attain that perfect and supreme excellence to which he aspires. For in every art there are many grades that are honourable besides the highest, and whoever aims at the highest will seldom fail to rise more than half-way. Therefore if our Courtier excels in anything besides arms, I would have him get profit and esteem from it in fine fashion; and I would have him so discreet and sensible as to be able with skill and address to attract men to see and hear that wherein he thinks he excels, always appearing not to do it from ostentation, but by chance and at others’ request rather than by his own wish. And in everything he has to do or say, let him if possible come ready and prepared, yet appearing to act impromptu throughout. In those things, however, wherein he feels himself to be mediocre, let him touch in passing, without dwelling much upon them, albeit in such fashion that he may be thought to know more about them than he shows himself to know: like certain poets, who sometimes touched lightly upon the profoundest depths of philosophy and other sciences, of which perhaps they understood little. Then, in that of which he knows he is wholly ignorant, I would never have him make any pretence or seek to win any fame; nay if need be, let him frankly confess his ignorance.”