part I

am content with this Lady of mine; and if these gentlemen will not have her as she is, let them leave her to me.”

53.—Here everyone remaining silent, messer Federico said:

“My lord Magnifico, to spur you on to say something more, I should like to put you a question concerning what you would have the chief business of the Court Lady, and it is this: that I wish to hear how she ought to conduct herself with respect to one detail which seems to me very important; for although the excellent qualities wherewith you have endowed her include genius, wisdom, good sense, ease of bearing, modesty, and so many other virtues, whereby she ought in reason to be able to converse with everyone and on every theme, still I think that more than anything else she needs to know that which belongs to discussions on love. For as every gentle cavalier uses those noble exercises, elegances and fine manners that we have mentioned, as a means to win the favour of women, to this end likewise he employs words; and not only when he is moved by passion, but often also to do honour to the lady with whom he is speaking, since he thinks that to give signs of love for her is a proof that she is worthy of it, and that her beauty and merits are so great that they compel every man to serve her.

“Hence I fain would know how this lady ought to converse on such a theme discreetly, and how reply to him who loves her truly, and how to him who makes a false pretence thereof; and whether she ought to feign not to understand, whether to return his love or to refuse, and how conduct herself.”

54.—Then my lord Magnifico said:

“It would be needful to teach her first to distinguish those who pretend to love and those who love truly; then, as to returning love or not, I think she ought not to be governed by any others’ wish but her own.”

Messer Federico said:

“Then teach her what are the surest and safest signs to discern false love from true, and with what proof she ought to be content in order to be sure of the love shown her.”

The Magnifico replied, laughing:

“I know not, for men to-day are so cunning that they make false pretences without end, and sometimes weep when they have great wish to laugh; hence it were necessary to send them to Isola Ferma under the True Lovers’ Arch.[424]

“But to the end that this Lady of mine (of whom it behooves me to take special care, since she is my creation) may not fall into those errours wherein I have seen many others fall, I should tell her not to be quick to believe herself loved, nor act like some who not only do not feign not to understand when court is paid to them even covertly, but at the first word accept all the praise that is given them, or decline it with a certain air that is rather an invitation to love for those with whom they are speaking, than a refusal.

“Therefore the course of conduct that I wish my Court Lady to pursue in love talk, will be to refuse always to believe that whoever pays court to her for that reason loves her: and if the gentleman shall be as pert as many are, and speak to her with small respect, she will give him such answer that he may clearly understand he is causing her annoyance. Again, if he shall be discreet and use modest phrases and words of love covertly, with that gentle manner which I think the Courtier fashioned by these gentlemen will employ, the lady will feign not to understand and will apply his words in another sense, always modestly trying to change the subject with that skill and prudence which have been said befit her. If, again, the talk is such that she cannot feign not to understand, she will take it all as a jest, pretending to be aware that it is said to her more out of compliment to her than because it is so, depreciating her merits and ascribing the praises that he gives her to the gentleman’s courtesy; and in this way she will win a name for discretion and be safer against deceit.

“After this fashion methinks the Court Lady ought to conduct herself in love talk.”

55.—Then messer Federico said:

“My lord Magnifico, you discourse of this matter as if everyone who pays court to women must needs speak lies and seek to deceive them: if the which were true, I should say that your teachings were sound; but if this cavalier who is speaking loves truly and feels that passion which sometimes so sorely afflicts the human heart, do you not consider in what pain, in what calamity and mortal anguish you put him by insisting that the lady shall never believe anything he says on this subject? Ought his supplications, tears, and many other signs to go for naught? Have a care, my lord Magnifico, lest it be thought that besides the natural cruelty which many of these ladies have in them, you are teaching them still more.”

The Magnifico replied:

“I spoke not of him who loves, but of him who entertains with amourous talk, wherein one of the most necessary conditions is that words shall never be lacking. But just as true lovers have glowing hearts, so they have cold tongues, with broken speech and sudden silence; wherefore perhaps it would not be a false assumption to say: ‘Who loves much, speaks little.’ Yet as to this I believe no certain rule can be given, because of the diversity of men’s habits; nor could I say anything more than that the Lady must be very cautious, and always bear in mind that men can declare their love with much less danger than women can.”

56.—Then my lord Gaspar said, laughing:

“Would you not, my lord Magnifico, have this admirable Lady of yours love in return even when she knows that she is loved truly? For if the Courtier were not loved in return, it is not conceivable that he should go on loving her; and thus she would lose many advantages, and especially that service and reverence with which lovers honour and almost adore the virtue of their beloved.”

“As to that,” replied the Magnifico, “I do not wish to give advice; but I do say that I think love, as you understand it, is proper only for unmarried women; for when this love cannot end in marriage, the lady must always find in it that remorse and sting which things illicit give her, and run risk of staining that reputation for chastity which is so important to her.”

Then messer Federico replied, laughing:

“This opinion of yours, my lord Magnifico, seems to me very austere, and I think you have learned it from some preacher—one of those who rebuke women for loving laymen, in order to have themselves the better part therein. And methinks you impose too hard a rule on married women, for many of them are to be found whose husbands bear them the greatest hatred without cause, and affront them grievously, sometimes by loving other women, sometimes by causing them all the annoyances possible to devise; some against their will are married by their fathers to old men, infirm, loathsome and disgusting, who make them live in continual misery. If such women were allowed to be divorced and separated from those with whom they are ill mated, perhaps it would not be fitting for them to love any but their husbands; but when, either by enmity of the stars or by unfitness of temperament or by other accident, it happens that the marriage bed, which ought to be a nest of concord and of love, is strewn by the accursed infernal fury with the seed of its venom, which then brings forth anger, suspicion and the stinging thorns of hatred to torment those unhappy souls cruelly bound by an unbreakable chain until death,—why are you unwilling that the woman should be allowed to seek some refuge from the heavy lash, and to bestow on others that which is not only spurned but hated by her husband? I am quite of the opinion that those who have suitable husbands and are loved by them, ought not to do them wrong; but the others wrong themselves by not loving those who love them.”

“Nay,” replied the Magnifico, “they wrong themselves by loving others than their husbands. Still, since not to love is often beyond our power, if this mischance shall happen to the Court Lady (that her husband’s hate or another’s love brings her to love), I would have her yield her lover nothing but her spirit; nor ever let her show him any clear sign of love (either by words or by gestures or by any other means) by which he may be sure of it.”

57.—Then messer Roberto da Bari said, laughing:

“I appeal from this judgment of yours, my lord Magnifico, and think I shall have many with me; but since you will teach married women this rusticity, so to speak, do you wish also to have the unmarried equally cruel and discourteous?—and complaisant to their lovers in nothing whatever?”

“If my Court Lady be unmarried,” replied my lord Magnifico, “and must love, I wish her to love someone whom she can marry; nor shall I account it an errour if she shows him some sign of love: as to which matter I wish to teach her one universal rule in a few words, to the end that she may with little pains be able to bear it in mind; and this is, let her show him who loves her every token of love except such as may imbue her lover’s mind with the hope of obtaining something wanton from her. And it is necessary to give great heed to this, for it is an errour committed by countless women, who commonly desire nothing more than to be beautiful: and since to have many lovers seems to them proof of their beauty, they take every pain] to get as many as they can. Thus they are often carried into reckless behaviour, and forsaking that temperate modesty which so becomes them, they employ certain pert looks with scurrile words and acts full of immodesty, thinking that they are gladly seen and listened to for this and that by such ways they make themselves loved: which is false; for the demonstrations that are made to them spring from desire excited by a belief in their willingness, not from love. Wherefore I wish that my Court Lady may not by wanton behaviour seem to offer herself to anyone who wants her and to do her best to lure the eyes and appetite of all who look upon her, but that by her merits and virtuous conduct, by her loveliness, by her grace, she may imbue the mind of all who see her with that true love which is due to all things lovable, and with that respect which always deprives him of hope who thinks of any wantonness.

“Moreover, he who is loved by such a woman ought to content himself with her every slightest demonstration, and to prize a single loving look from her more than complete possession of any other woman; and to such a Lady I should not know how to add anything, unless to have her loved by so excellent a Courtier as these gentlemen have described, and to have her love him also, to the end that they may both attain their complete perfection.”

58.—Having thus far spoken, my lord Magnifico was silent; whereupon my lord Gaspar said, laughing:

“Now, in sooth, you will not be able to complain that my lord Magnifico has not described a most excellent Court Lady; and henceforth, if such an one is found, I admit that she deserves to be esteemed the Courtier’s equal.”

My lady Emilia replied:

“I engage to find her, provided you will find the Courtier.”

Messer Roberto added:

“Verily it cannot be denied that the Lady described by my lord Magnifico is most perfect: nevertheless, as to those last conditions of love, methinks he has made her a little too austere, especially when he would have her deprive her lover of all hope, by words, gestures and behaviour, and do all she can to plunge the man in despair. For as everyone knows, human desires do not spend themselves upon those things whereof there is not some hope. And although a few women may have indeed been found, haughty perhaps by reason of their beauty and worth, whose first word to anyone who paid them court was that he must never expect to have anything from them that he wished,—yet afterwards they have been a little more gracious to him in look and manner, so that by their kindly acts they have somewhat tempered their haughty words. But if this Lady by acts and words and manner removes all hope, I think our Courtier, if he is wise, will never love her; and thus she will have the imperfection of being without a lover.”

59.—Then the Magnifico said:

“I do not wish my Court Lady to remove hope of everything, but only of wanton things, which (if the Courtier be as courteous and discreet as these gentlemen have described him) he will not only not hope for, but will not even wish for. Because if the beauty, behaviour, cleverness, goodness, knowledge, modesty, and the many other worthy qualities that we have given the Lady, are the cause of the Courtier’s love for her, the end of his love will necessarily be worthy too: and if nobility, excellence in arms and letters and music, if gentleness and the possession of so many graces in speech and conversation, be the means whereby the Courtier is to win the lady’s love, the end of that love must needs be of like quality with the means whereby it is attained.

“Moreover, just as there are divers sorts of beauty in the world, so too there are divers tastes in men; and thus it happens that when they see a woman of that serious beauty, which (whether she be going or staying or joking or jesting or doing what you will) always so tempers her whole behaviour as to induce a certain reverence in anyone who looks upon her,—many are abashed and dare not serve her; and lured by hope, they oftener love attractive and enticing women, so soft and tender as to display in words and acts and looks a certain languourous passion that promises easily to pass and be changed into love.

“To be safe against deceits, some men love another sort of women, who are so free of eye and word and movement as to do the first thing that comes into their mind with a certain simplicity which does not hide their thoughts. Nor are there lacking other generous souls, who—(esteeming that worth is shown in difficulty, and that it would be a victory most sweet to conquer what to others seems unconquerable), in order to give proof that their valour is able to force a stubborn mind and persuade to love even wills that are contrary and recusant thereto,—readily turn to love the beauties of those women who by eyes and words and behaviour show more austere severity than the others. Wherefore these men who are so self-confident, and who account themselves secure against being deceived, willingly love certain women also who by cunning and art seem to conceal a thousand wiles with beauty; or else some others, who along with their beauty have a coquettishly disdainful manner of few words and few laughs, with almost an air of prizing little every man who looks upon them or serves them.

“Then there are certain other men who deign to love only those women who in face and speech and every movement carry all elegance, all gentle manners, all knowledge, and all the graces heaped together,—like a single flower composed of all the excellences in the world. Thus if my Court Lady have a dearth of those loves that spring from evil hope, she will not on that account be left without a lover; for she will not lack those loves that spring both from her merits and from her lovers’ confidence in their own worth, whereby they will know themselves to be worthy of being loved by her.”

60.—Messer Roberto still objected, but my lady Duchess held him in the wrong, supporting my lord Magnifico’s argument; then she continued:

“We have no cause to complain of my lord Magnifico, for I truly think that the Court Lady described by him may stand on a par with the Courtier, and even with some advantage; for he has taught her how to love, which these gentlemen did not do for their Courtier.”

Then the Unico Aretino said:

“It is very fitting to teach women how to love, for rarely have I seen any that knew how: since they nearly all accompany their beauty with cruelty and ingratitude towards those who serve them most faithfully and deserve the reward of their love by nobility of birth, gentleness and worth; and then they often give themselves a prey to men who are very silly, base, and of small account, and who not only love them not, but hate them.

“So, to avoid such grievous errours as these, perhaps it was well to teach them first how to make choice of a man who shall deserve to be loved, and then how to love him; which is not needful in the case of men, who know it but too well of themselves. And here I can be a good witness; for love was never taught me save by the divine beauty and divinest behaviour of a Lady whom it was beyond my power not to adore, wherein I had no need of art or any master;[425] and I think that the same happens with all who love truly. Hence it were fitting to teach the Courtier how to make himself loved rather than how to love.”

61.—Here my lady Emilia said:

“Then discourse of this now, my lord Unico.”

The Unico replied:

“Methinks reason would require that ladies’ favour should be won by serving and pleasing them; but by what they deem themselves served and pleased, I think must needs be learned from ladies themselves, who often desire things so strange that there is no man who would imagine the same, and sometimes they do not themselves know what they desire. Hence it is right that you, my Lady, who are a woman and so must surely know what pleases women, should undertake this task, to do the world so great a benefit.”

Then my lady Emilia said:

“The very great favour that you always find with women is good proof that you know all the ways by which their grace is won; hence it is quite fitting that you should teach them.”

“My Lady,” replied the Unico, “I could give a lover no more useful warning than to look to it that you have no influence over the lady whose favour he seeks; for such good qualities as the world once thought were in me, together with the sincerest love that ever was, have not had so much power to make me loved as you have to make me hated.”

62.—Then my lady Emilia replied:

“My lord Unico, God forbid that I should even think, much less do, anything to make you hated; for besides doing what I ought not, I should be esteemed of little sense for attempting the impossible. But since you urge me thus to speak of that which pleases women, I will speak; and if you shall be displeased, blame yourself for it.

“I think, then, that whoever would be loved must love and be lovable; and that these two things suffice to win women’s favour.

“Now to answer that which you accuse me of, I say that everyone knows and sees that you are very lovable; but whether you love as sincerely as you say, I am very much in doubt, and perhaps the others too. For your being too lovable has brought it to pass that you have been loved by many women: and great rivers divided into many parts become little streams; so love, bestowed upon more than one object, has little strength. But these continual laments of yours, and complaints of ingratitude in the women you have served (which is not probable, in view of your great merits), are a certain sort of mystery to hide the favours, contentments and pleasures attained by you in love, and to assure the women who love you and have given themselves to you, that you will not betray them; and hence also they are content that you should thus openly display feigned love for others to hide their real love for you. So, if the women whom you now pretend to love are not so ready to believe it as you would like, the reason is because this artfulness of yours in love is beginning to be understood, not because I make you hated.”

63.—Then my lord Unico said:

“I do not wish to try again to confute your words, because I at last perceive that it is as much my fate not to be believed when I say truth, as it is yours to be believed when you say untruth.”

“Say rather, my lord Unico,” replied by lady Emilia, “that you do not love as you would have us believe; for if you loved, all your desire would be to please your beloved lady and to wish what she wishes, because this is the law of love; but your thus complaining of her denotes some deceit, as I said, or indeed gives proof that you wish what she does not wish.”

“Nay,” said my lord Unico, “indeed I wish what she wishes, which is proof that I love her; but I complain that she does not wish what I wish, which is a token that she loves me not, according to that same rule that you have cited.”

My lady Emilia replied:

“He who begins to love ought also to begin to please his beloved and bend himself wholly to her wishes, and govern his by hers; and make his own desires her slaves, and his very soul like unto an obedient handmaid, nor ever think of aught but to let it be transformed, if possible, into that of his beloved, and to account this as his highest happiness; for they do thus who love truly.”

“Assuredly,” said my lord Unico, “my highest happiness would be to have a single wish rule her soul and mine.”

“It rests with you to have it so,” replied my lady Emilia.

64.—Then messer Bernardo interrupted and said:

“Certain it is that he who loves truly bends all his thoughts to serve and please the lady of his love, without being shown the way by others; but as these loving services are sometimes not clearly perceived, I think that besides loving and serving it is further necessary to make some other demonstration of his love so evident that the lady cannot hide her knowledge that she is loved; yet with such modesty withal that he may not seem to have small respect for her. And since you, my Lady, began to tell how the lover’s soul must be the obedient handmaid of his beloved, I pray you explain this secret also, which seems to me very important.”

Messer Cesare laughed, and said:

“If the lover is so modest that he is ashamed to tell her of his love, let him write it to her.”

My lady Emilia added:

“Nay, if he is as discreet as becomes him, he ought to be sure of not offending her before he declares himself to her.”

Then my lord Gaspar said:

“All women like to be sued in love, even though they mean to refuse that which they are sued for.”

The Magnifico Giuliano replied:

“You are very wrong; nor should I advise the Courtier ever to employ this method, unless he be certain of not being repulsed.”

65.—“Then what is he to do?” said my lord Gaspar.

The Magnifico continued:

“If he must speak or write, let him do it with such modesty and so warily that his first words shall try her mind, and shall touch so ambiguously upon her wish as to leave a way and certain loophole that may enable her to feign not to see that his discourse imports love, to the end that he may retreat in case of difficulty and pretend that he spoke or wrote to some other end, in order to enjoy in safety those intimate caresses and coquetries that a woman often grants to him who she thinks accepts them in friendship, and then withholds them as soon as she finds they are received as demonstrations of love. Hence those men who are too precipitate and venture thus presumptuously with a kind of fury and stubbornness, often lose these favours, and deservedly; for every noble lady regards herself as little esteemed by him who rudely wooes her before having done her service.

66.—“Therefore in my opinion the way that the Courtier ought to take to make his love known to the Lady, seems to me to be by showing it to her in manner rather than in words;—for verily more of love’s affection is sometimes revealed in a sigh, in reverence, in timidity, than in a thousand words;—next by making his eyes to be faithful messengers to bear the embassies of his heart, since they often show the passion that is within more clearly than the tongue itself or letters or other couriers: so that they not only disclose thoughts, but often kindle love in the beloved’s heart. Because those quick spirits that issue from the eyes, being generated near the heart, enter again by the eyes (whither they are aimed like an arrow at the mark), and naturally reach the heart as if it were their abode, and mingling with those other spirits there and with that subtle quality of blood which they have in them, they infect the blood near the heart to which they have come, and warm it, and make it like themselves and ready to receive the impression of that image which they have brought with them. Travelling thus to and fro over the road from eyes to heart, and bringing back the tinder and steel of beauty and grace, little by little these messengers fan with the breath of desire that fire which glows so ardently and never ceases to burn because they are always bringing it the fuel of hope to feed on.

“Hence it may be well said that eyes are the guide in love, especially if they are kind and soft; black, of a bright and gentle blackness, or blue; merry and laughing, so gracious and keen of glance, like some wherein the channels that give the spirits egress seem so deep that through them we can see the very heart. Then the eyes lie in wait, just as in war soldiers lurk in ambush; and if the form of the whole body is fair and well proportioned, it attracts and allures anyone who looks upon it from afar until he approaches, and, as soon as he is near, the eyes dart forth and bewitch like sorcerers; and especially when they send out their rays straight to the eyes of the beloved at a moment when these are doing the same; because the spirits meet, and in that sweet encounter each receives the other’s quality, as we see in the case of an eye diseased, which by looking fixedly into a sound one imparts thereto its own disease. So methinks in this way our Courtier can in great part manifest his love for his Lady.

“True it is that if the eyes are not governed with skill, they often most disclose a man’s amourous desires to whom he least would do so; for through them there shines forth almost visibly that ardent passion which (while wishing to reveal it only to his beloved) the lover often reveals also to those from whom he most would hide it. Therefore he who has not lost the bridle of reason, governs himself cautiously and observes time and place, and abstains when needful from such intent gazing, sweetest food though it be; for an open love is too difficult a thing.”

67.—Count Ludovico replied:

“Sometimes even openness does no harm, for in this case men often think such a love affair is not tending to the end which every lover desires, seeing that little care is taken to hide it, nor any heed given whether it be known or not; and so, by not denying it, a man wins a certain freedom that enables him to speak openly with his beloved and to be with her without suspicion; which those do not win who try to be secret, because they seem to hope for and to be near some great reward that they would not have others discover.

“Moreover I have often seen very ardent love spring up in a woman’s heart towards a man for whom she had at first not had the least affection, simply from hearing that many deemed them to be in love; and I think the reason of this was because such an universal opinion as that seemed to her sufficient proof to make her believe the man worthy of her love, and it seemed as if report brought her messages from the lover much truer and worthier of belief than he himself could have sent by letters and words, or another for him.

“Thus, this public report not only sometimes does no harm, but helps.”

The Magnifico replied:

“Love affairs that have report for their minister put a man in great danger of being pointed at with the finger; and hence he who would travel this road safely, must feign to have less fire within him than he has, and content himself with that which seems little to him, and conceal his desires, jealousies, griefs and joys, and often laugh with his mouth when his heart is weeping, and feign to be prodigal of that whereof he most is chary; and these things are so difficult to do, that they are almost impossible. Therefore if our Courtier would follow my advice, I should exhort him to keep his love affairs secret.”

68.—Then messer Bernardo said:

“There is need, then, for you to teach him how, and methinks it is of no small importance; for, besides the signals which men sometimes make so covertly that almost without a motion the person whom they wish reads in their face and eyes what is in their heart,—I have sometimes heard a long and free love talk between two lovers, of which, however, those present could understand clearly no details at all or even be sure that the talk was about love. And the reason of this lay in the speakers’ discretion and precaution; for without showing any sign of annoyance at being listened to, they whispered only those words that signified, and spoke aloud the rest, which could be construed in different senses.”

Then messer Federico said:

“To speak thus minutely about these precautions of secrecy would be a journey into the infinite; hence I would rather have some little discussion as to how the lover ought to maintain his lady’s favour, which seems to me much more necessary.”

69.—The Magnifico replied:

“I think that those means which serve to win it serve also to maintain it; and all this consists in pleasing the lady of our love without ever offending her. Wherefore it would be difficult to give any fixed rule for it; since in countless ways he who is not very discreet sometimes makes mistakes that seem little and yet grievously offend the lady’s spirit; and this befalls those, more than others, who are overmastered by passion: like some who, whenever they have means of speaking to the lady whom they love, lament and complain so bitterly and often wish for things that are so impossible, that they become wearisome by their very importunity. Others, when they are stung by any jealousy, allow themselves to be so carried away by their grief that they heedlessly run into speaking evil of him whom they suspect, and sometimes without fault either on his part or on the lady’s, and insist that she shall not speak to him or even turn her eyes in the direction where he is. And by this behaviour they often not only offend the lady, but are the cause that leads her to love the man: because the fear that lovers sometimes display lest their lady forsake them for another, shows that they are conscious of being inferior to him in merits and worth, and with this idea the lady is moved to love him, and perceiving that evil is said of him to put him out of favour, she believes it not although it be true, and loves him all the more.”

70.—Then messer Cesare said, laughing:

“I own I am not so wise that I could abstain from speaking evil of my rival, except you were to teach me some other better means of ruining him.”

My lord Magnifico replied, laughing:

“There is a proverb which says that when our enemy is in the water up to the belt, we must offer him our hand and lift him out of peril; but when he is in up to the chin, we must set our foot on his head and drown him outright. Thus there are some who do this with their rival, and as long as they have no safe way of ruining him, go about dissimulating and pretend to be rather his friend than otherwise; then if an opportunity offers—such that they know they can overwhelm him with certain ruin by saying all manner of evil of him (whether it be true or false),—they do it without mercy, with craft, deception and all the means they know how to invent.

“But since it would never please me to have our Courtier use any deceit, I would have him deprive his rival of the lady’s favour by no other craft than by loving and serving her, and by being worthy, valiant, discreet and modest; in short, by deserving her better than his rival, and by being in all things wary and prudent, abstaining from all stupid follies, wherein many dunces fall and in diverse ways. For in the past I have known some who use Poliphilian words in writing and speaking to women,[426] and so insist upon the niceties of rhetoric, that the women are diffident of themselves and account themselves very ignorant, and think each hour of such discourse a thousand years, and rise before the end. Others are immoderately boastful. Others often say things that redound to their own discredit and damage, like some I am wont to laugh at, who profess to be in love and sometimes say in the presence of women: ‘I have never found a woman to love me;’ and they do not perceive that those who hear them at once conclude that this can arise from no other reason than that they deserve neither love nor the water they drink, and hold them for men of slight account, and would not love them for all the gold in the world, thinking that to love them would be to stand lower than all the other women who loved them not.

“Still others are so silly that for the purpose of bringing odium upon some rival of theirs, they say in the presence of women: ‘So and So is the luckiest man on earth; for although he is not at all handsome, discreet or valiant, and cannot do or say more than the rest, yet all the women love him and run after him;’ and thus showing themselves to be envious of the man’s good luck, they incite belief that (although he shows himself to be lovable in neither looks nor acts) he has in him some hidden quality for which he deserves so many women’s love; hence those who hear him thus spoken of are by this belief even much more moved to love him.”

71.—Then Count Ludovico laughed, and said:

“I assure you that the discreet Courtier will never use these stupidities to win favour with women.”

Messer Cesare Gonzaga replied:

“Nor yet that one which was used in my time by a gentleman of great repute, whose name for the honour of men I will not mention.”

My lady Duchess replied:

“At least tell what he did.”

Messer Cesare continued:

“Being loved by a great lady, at her request he came secretly to the place where she was; and after he had seen her and conversed with her as long as she and the time allowed, taking his leave with many bitter tears and sighs, in token of the extreme sorrow that he felt at such a

## parting, he besought her to keep him continually in mind; and then he

added that she ought to pay his board and lodging, for as he had been invited by her, it seemed to him reasonable that he should be at no charge for his coming.”

Then all the ladies began to laugh and to say that he was quite unworthy to be called a gentleman; and many of the men were ashamed, with that shame which the man himself would have rightly felt if he had at any time found wit enough to be conscious of such a shameful fault.

My lord Gaspar then turned to messer Cesare, and said:

“It was better to refrain from telling this thing for the honour of women, than to refrain for the honour of men from naming him; for you can well imagine what good judgment that great lady had in loving such a senseless animal, and also that of the many who served her perhaps she had chosen this one as the most discreet, forsaking and misliking men whose lackey he was unworthy to be.”

Count Ludovico laughed, and said:

“Who knows that he was not discreet in other things, and failed only as to board and lodging? But many times men commit great follies in their excessive love; and if you will say the truth, perhaps it has befallen you to commit more than one.”

72.—Messer Cesare replied, laughing:

“By your faith, do not expose our errours.”

“Nay, it is necessary to expose them,” replied my lord Gaspar, “in order that we may know how to correct them;” then he added: “My lord Magnifico, now that the Courtier knows how to win and maintain his lady’s favour and to deprive his rival of it, you must teach him how to keep his love affairs secret.”

The Magnifico replied:

“Methinks I have said enough; so now choose someone else to speak of this secrecy.”

Then messer Bernardo and all the others began to urge him anew; and the Magnifico said, laughing:

“You wish to tempt me. All of you are too well practised in love: yet if you would know more, go read it in Ovid.”

“And how,” said messer Bernardo, “should I hope that his precepts are of any service in love, when he recommends and says it is a very good thing that a man should pretend to be drunk in the presence of the beloved?[427] See what a fine way of winning favour! And he cites as a fine method of making one’s love known to a lady at a banquet, to dip a finger in wine and write it on the table.”[428]

The Magnifico replied, laughing:

“In those days it was not amiss.”

“And therefore,” said messer Bernardo, “since such a filthy trick as this was not offensive to the men of that time, we may believe that they did not have so gentle a manner of serving women in love as we have. But let us not forsake our first subject, of teaching how to keep love secret.”

73.—Then the Magnifico said:

“In my opinion, in order to keep love secret it is needful to avoid the causes that make it public, which are many; but there is one chief cause, which is the wish to be too secret and not trust any person whatever. For every lover desires to make his passion known to his beloved, and being alone he is forced to make many more and stronger demonstrations than if he were aided by some loving and faithful friend; because the demonstrations that the lover himself makes arouse much greater suspicion than those he makes through intermediaries. And since the human mind is naturally curious to find things out, as soon as a stranger begins to suspect, he employs such diligence that he learns the truth, and having learned it, makes no scruple to publish it—nay, sometimes delights to do so; which is not the case with a friend, who besides helping with comfort and advice, often repairs those mistakes which the blind lover commits, and always contrives secrecy and provides for many things for which he himself cannot provide. Moreover very great relief is felt in telling our passion and unburdening it to a trusty friend, and likewise it greatly enhances our joys to be able to impart them.”

74.—Then my lord Gaspar said:

“Another cause discloses love more than this.”

“And what is it?” replied the Magnifico.

My lord Gaspar continued:

“The vain ambition joined with madness and cruelty of women; who, as you yourself have said, try to have as great a number of lovers as they can, and if it were possible would have all of these burn and (once made ashes) after death return alive to die once more. And even although they be in love, still they delight in their lover’s torment, because they think that pain and afflictions and continual calling for death give good proof that they are loved, and can, by their beauty, make men wretched and happy, and bestow death and life, as they please. Hence they feed only on this food, and are so eager for it that (in order not to be without it) they do not satisfy or ever quite dishearten their lovers; but to keep these continually in anguish and desire, they use a certain domineering severity of threats mingled with encouragement, and fain would have a word, a look, a nod of theirs esteemed as highest bliss. And to be deemed modest and chaste, not only by their lovers but by all the rest, they take care to make their harsh and discourteous behaviour public, to the end that everyone may think that if they thus maltreat those who are worthy to be loved, they must treat the unworthy much worse.

“And in this belief, thinking they thus have artfully made themselves secure against infamy, they often spend every night with vilest men whom they scarcely know; and so, to enjoy the calamities and continual laments of some noble cavalier whom they love, they deny themselves those pleasures which they might perhaps attain with some excuse; and they are the cause that forces the poor lover in sheer desperation to behaviour which brings to light that which every care ought to be taken to keep most secret.

“Some others there are, who, if by trickery they succeed in leading many a man to think himself loved by them, nourish the jealousy of each by bestowing caresses and favour on one in the presence of another; and when they see that he too whom they most love is nearly sure of being loved because of the demonstrations shown him, they often put him in suspense by ambiguous words and pretended anger, and pierce his heart, feigning to care nothing for him and to wish to give themselves wholly to another; whence arise hatreds, enmities and countless scandals and manifest ruin, for in such a case a man must show the passion that he feels, even though it result in blame and infamy to the lady.

“Others, not content with this single torment of jealousy, after the lover has given all proofs of love and faithful service, and after they have received the same with some sign of returning it with good will, they begin to draw back without cause and when it is least expected, and pretend to believe that he has grown lukewarm, and feigning new suspicions that they are not loved, they give sign of wishing to break with him absolutely. And so, because of these obstacles, the poor fellow is by very force compelled to go back to the start and pay court as if his service were beginning; and daily to walk the earth, and when the lady stirs abroad to accompany her to church and everywhere she goes, never to turn his eyes another way: and now he returns to plaints and sighs and heaviness of heart, and if he can speak with her, to supplications, blasphemies, despairings, and all those ragings to which unhappy lovers are put by these fierce monsters, who have a greater thirst for blood than tigers have.

75.—“Such woeful demonstrations as these are but too much seen and known, and often more by others than by her who occasions them; and thus in a few days they become so public that not a step can be taken, nor the least signal given, that is not noted by a thousand eyes. Then it happens that long before there are any sweets of love between them, they are believed and judged by all the world; for when women see that the lover, now nigh to death and overwhelmed by the cruelty and tortures inflicted on him, is firmly and really resolving to withdraw, they at once begin to show him that they love him heartily, and to do him all manner of kindness, and to yield to him, to the end that (his ardent desire having failed) the fruits of love may be less sweet to him and he may have less to thank them for, in order to do everything amiss.

“And their love being now very well known, at the same time all the results that proceed from it are also very well known; thus the women are dishonoured, and the lover finds that he has lost time and pains and has shortened his life in sorrows, without the least advantage or pleasure; for he attained his desires, not when they would have made him very happy with their pleasantness, but when he cared little or nothing for them, because his heart was already so deadened by his cruel passion that it had no feeling left wherewith to enjoy the delight or contentment which was offered him.”

76.—Then my lord Ottaviano said, laughing:

“You held your peace awhile and refrained from saying evil of women; then you hit them so hard that it seems as if you were gathering strength, like those who draw back in order to strike the harder; and verily you are in the wrong and ought henceforth to be gentler.”

My lady Emilia laughed, and turning to my lady Duchess, said:

“You see, my Lady, that our adversaries are beginning to quarrel and differ among themselves.”

“Call me not so,” replied my lord Ottaviano, “for I am not your adversary. This contest has displeased me much, not because I was sorry to see the victory in favour of women, but because it has led my lord Gaspar to revile them more than he ought, and my lord Magnifico and messer Cesare to praise them perhaps a little more than their due; besides which, owing to the length of the discussion, we have missed hearing many other fine things that remained to say about the Courtier.”

“You see,” said my lady Emilia, “that you are our adversary after all; and for that reason you are displeased with the late discussion, and fain would not have had so excellent a Court Lady described; not because you had anything more to say about the Courtier (for these gentlemen have said all they knew, and I think that neither you nor anyone else could add anything whatever), but because of the envy that you have of women’s honour.”

77.—“Certain it is,” replied my lord Ottaviano, “that besides the things that have been said about the Courtier, I should like to hear many others. Still, since everyone is content to have him as he is, I also am content; nor should I change him in aught else, unless in making him a little more friendly to women than my lord Gaspar is, albeit perhaps not so much so as some of these other gentlemen.”

Then my lady Duchess said:

“By all means we must see whether your talents are so great that they can give the Courtier greater perfection than these gentlemen have given him. So please to say what you have in mind: else we shall think that even you cannot add anything to what has been said, but that you wished to detract from the praises of the Court Lady because you think her the equal of the Courtier, who you would therefore have us believe could be much more perfect than these gentlemen have described him.”

My lord Ottaviano laughed, and said:

“The praise and censure that have been bestowed on women beyond their due have so filled the ears and mind of the company as to leave no room for anything else to lodge; besides this, in my opinion the hour is very late.”

“Then,” said my lady Duchess, “we shall have more time by waiting till to-morrow; and meanwhile this praise and censure, which you say have been on both sides bestowed excessively on women, will leave these gentlemen’s minds, and thus they will better appreciate that truth which you will tell them.”

So saying, my lady Duchess rose to her feet, and courteously dismissing the company, retired to her more private room, and everyone went to rest.

THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE COURTIER BY COUNT BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE

TO MESSER ALFONSO ARIOSTO

1.—Thinking to write out the discussions that were held on the fourth evening, after those mentioned in the previous Books, among various reflections I feel one bitter thought that strikes my heart, and makes me mindful of human miseries and our deceptive hopes: and how fortune, often in mid-course and sometimes near the end, shatters our frail and vain designs, and sometimes wrecks them before the haven can be even seen afar.

Thus I recall that not long after these discussions took place, importunate death deprived our court of three very rare gentlemen while they were in the flower of robust health and hope of honour. And of these the first was my lord Gaspar Pallavicino, who being assailed by an acute disease and more than once brought low, although his courage was of such vigour that for a season it held spirit and body together in spite of death, yet ended his natural course far before his time;[429] a very great loss not only to our court and to his friends and family, but to his native land and to all Lombardy.

Not long afterwards died messer Cesare Gonzaga, who to all those who had acquaintance with him left a bitter and painful memory of his death;[430] for since nature produces such men as rarely as she does, it seemed only fitting that she should not so soon deprive us of this one: because it certainly may be said that messer Cesare was carried off just when he was beginning to give something more than promise of himself, and to be esteemed as his admirable qualities deserved; for already, by many meritorious efforts he had given good proof of his worth, which shone forth not only in noble birth, but also in the ornament of letters and of arms, and in every kind of laudable behaviour; so that, by reason of his goodness, capacity, courage and wisdom, there was nothing so great that it might not be expected from him.

No long time passed before the death of messer Roberto da Bari also inflicted deep sorrow upon the whole court;[48] for it seemed reasonable that everyone should lament the death of a youth of good behaviour, agreeable, fair of aspect, and of very rare personal grace, and of as stout and sturdy temper as could be wished.

2.—If, then, these men had lived, I think they would have reached such eminence that they would have been able to give everyone who knew them clear proof how worthy the court of Urbino was of praise, and how adorned with noble cavaliers; which nearly all the others have done who were reared there. For verily the Trojan Horse did not send forth so many lords and captains as this court has sent forth men singular in worth and most highly prized by everyone. Thus, as you know, messer Federico Fregoso was made Archbishop of Salerno; Count Ludovico, Bishop of Bayeux; my lord Ottaviano, Doge of Genoa; messer Bernardo Bibbiena, Cardinal of Santa Maria in Portico; messer Pietro Bembo, secretary to Pope Leo; my lord Magnifico rose to the dukedom of Nemours and to that greatness where he now is. My lord Francesco Maria della Rovere also, Prefect of Rome, was made Duke of Urbino:[431] albeit much higher praise may be accorded to the court where he was nurtured, because he there became a rare and excellent lord in every quality of worth, as we now see, than because he attained the dukedom of Urbino; nor do I believe that a small cause of this was the noble company in whose daily converse he always saw and heard laudable behaviour.

However, it seems to me that the cause, whether chance or favour of the stars, which has so long granted excellent lords to Urbino, still continues and produces the same results; and hence we may hope that fair fortune must further so bless these good works, that the welfare of the house and state shall not only not wane but rather wax from day to day: and of this many bright auguries are already to be seen, among which I esteem the chief to be Heaven’s bestowal of such a mistress as is my lady Eleanora Gonzaga, the new Duchess;[432] for if ever in a single body there were joined wisdom, grace, beauty, capacity, tact, humanity, and every other gentle quality,—in her they are so united that they form a chain which completes and adorns her every movement with all these qualities at once.

[Illustration:

ELEANORA GONZAGA DUCHESS OF URBINO 1492-1543 ]

Reduced from the central part of Braun’s photograph (no. 34.106) of the picture _Das Mädchen im Pelz_, in the Imperial Museum at Vienna, by Titian (1477-1576).

Let us now continue the discussion about our Courtier, in the hope that after us there ought to be no lack of those who will find bright and honoured examples of worth in the present court of Urbino, just as we now do in that of bygone times.

3.—It seemed, then, as my lord Gaspar Pallavicino used to relate, that the following day after the discussions contained in the preceding Book, little was seen of my lord Ottaviano; hence many thought that he had retired in order that he might without hindrance think carefully of what he had to say. Thus, the company having betaken themselves to my lady Duchess at the accustomed hour, search had to be made far and wide for my lord Ottaviano, who did not appear for a good space; so that many cavaliers and maids of honour of the court began to dance and engage in other pastimes, thinking that for that evening there would be no more talk about the Courtier. And indeed all were busied, some with one thing and some with another, when my lord Ottaviano arrived, after he had almost been given up; and seeing that messer Cesare Gonzaga and my lord Gaspar were dancing, he bowed to my lady Duchess and said, laughing:

“I quite expected to hear my lord Gaspar say some evil about women again this evening; but seeing him dance with one, I think that he has made his peace with all of them; and I am glad that the dispute (or rather the discussion) about the Courtier has ended thus.”

“It is by no means ended,” replied my lady Duchess; “for I am no such enemy of men as you are of women, and therefore I am unwilling that the Courtier should be deprived of his due honour, and of those ornaments that you promised him last evening;” and so saying, she directed that as soon as the dance was finished, everyone should sit down in the usual order, which was done; and when all were giving close attention, my lord Ottaviano said:

“My Lady, since my wish to have the Courtier possess many other good qualities is taken as a promise to tell what they are, I am content to speak about them, not with any hope of saying all that might be said, but merely enough to clear your mind of the charge that was made against me last evening, to wit: that I spoke as I did rather for the purpose of detracting from the Court Lady’s praises (by raising a false belief that other excellences can be ascribed to the Courtier, and by thus artfully making him her superior), than because what I said was true. Wherefore, to adapt myself to the hour, which is later than it is wont to be when we begin our discussions, I shall be brief.

4.—“So, to pursue these gentlemen’s discourse, which I wholly approve and confirm, I say that of the things that we call good, there are some which simply and in themselves are always good, like temperance, fortitude, health, and all the virtues that bestow tranquillity upon the mind; others, which are good in various respects and for the object to which they tend, like law, liberality, riches, and other like things. Hence I think that the perfect Courtier, such as Count Ludovico and messer Federico have described, may be a truly good thing and worthy of praise, not however simply and in himself, but in respect to the end to which he may be directed. For indeed if by being nobly born, graceful, agreeable, and expert in so many exercises, the Courtier brought forth no other fruit than merely being what he is, I should not deem it right for a man to devote so much study and pains to acquiring this perfection of Courtiership, as anyone must who wishes to attain it. Nay, I should say that many of those accomplishments that have been ascribed to him (like dancing, merry-making, singing and playing) were follies and vanities, and in a man of rank worthy rather of censure than of praise: for these elegances, devices, mottoes, and other like things that pertain to discourse about women and love, although perhaps many other men think the contrary, often serve only to effeminate the mind, to corrupt youth, and to reduce it to great wantonness of living; whence then it comes to pass that the Italian name is brought into opprobrium, and but few are to be found who dare, I will not say to die, but even to run into danger.

“And surely there are countless other things, which, if industry and study were spent upon them, would be of much greater utility in both peace and war than this kind of Courtiership in itself merely; but if the Courtier’s actions are directed to that good end to which they ought, and which I have in mind, methinks they are not only not harmful or vain, but very useful and deserving of infinite praise.

5.—“I think then that the aim of the perfect Courtier, which has not been spoken of till now, is so to win for himself, by means of the accomplishments ascribed to him by these gentlemen, the favour and mind of the prince whom he serves, that he may be able to say, and always shall say, the truth about everything which it is fitting for the prince to know, without fear or risk of giving offence thereby; and that when he sees his prince’s mind inclined to do something wrong, he may be quick to oppose, and gently to make use of the favour acquired by his good accomplishments, so as to banish every bad intent and lead his prince into the path of virtue. And thus, possessing the goodness which these gentlemen have described, together with readiness of wit and pleasantness, and shrewdness and knowledge of letters and many other things,—the Courtier will in every case be able deftly to show the prince how much honour and profit accrue to him and his from justice, liberality, magnanimity, gentleness, and the other virtues that become a good prince; and on the other hand how much infamy and loss proceed from the vices opposed to them. Therefore I think that just as music, festivals, games, and the other pleasant accomplishments are as it were the flower, in like manner to lead or help one’s prince towards right, and to frighten him from wrong, are the true fruit of Courtiership.

“And since the merit of well-doing lies chiefly in two things, one of which is the choice of an end for our intentions that shall be truly good, and the other ability to find means suitable and fitting to conduce to that good end marked out,—certain it is that that man’s mind tends to the best end, who purposes to see to it that his prince shall be deceived by no one, shall hearken not to flatterers or to slanderers and liars, and shall distinguish good and evil, and love the one and hate the other.

6.—“Methinks, too, that the accomplishments ascribed to the Courtier by these gentlemen may be a good means of arriving at that end; and this because among the many faults which to-day we see in many of our princes, the greatest are ignorance and self-esteem. And the root of these two evils is none other than falsehood: which vice is deservedly hateful to God and to men, and more injurious to princes than any other; because they have greatest lack of that whereof they most need to have abundance—I mean of someone to tell them the truth and to put them in mind of what is right: for their enemies are not moved by love to perform these offices, but are well pleased to have them live wickedly and never correct themselves; on the other hand, their enemies dare not accuse them openly, for fear of being punished. Then of their friends there are few who have free access to them, and those few are chary of censuring them for their errours as freely as in the case of private persons, and to win grace and favour often think of nothing but how to suggest things that may delight and please their fancy, although the same be evil and dishonourable; thus from being friends these men become flatterers, and to derive profit from their intimacy, always speak and

## act complaisantly, and for the most part make their way by means of

falsehoods, which beget ignorance in the prince’s mind, not only of outward things but of himself; and this may be said to be the greatest and most monstrous falsehood of all, for the ignorant mind deceives itself and lies inwardly to itself.

7.—“From this it follows that, besides never hearing the truth about anything whatever, rulers are intoxicated by that licence which dominion carries with it, and by the abundance of their enjoyments are drowned in pleasures, and so deceive themselves and have their minds so corrupted,—always finding themselves obeyed and almost adored with such reverence and praise, without the least censure or even contradiction,—that from this ignorance they pass to boundless self-esteem, so that they then brook no advice or persuasion from others. And since they think that to know how to rule is a very easy thing, and that to succeed therein they need no other art or training than mere force, they bend their mind and all their thoughts to the maintenance of that power which they have, esteeming that true felicity lies in being able to do what one likes.

“Therefore some princes hate reason and justice, thinking that it would be a kind of bridle and a means of reducing them to bondage, and of lessening the pleasure and satisfaction which they have in ruling, if they were willing to follow it; and that their dominion would not be perfect or complete if they were constrained to obey duty and honour, because they think that he who obeys is no true ruler. Therefore, following these principles and allowing themselves to be transported by self-esteem, they become arrogant, with haughty looks and stern behaviour, with splendid dress, gold and gems, and by letting themselves be almost never seen in public they think to win authority among men and to be held almost as gods. And to my thinking they are like the colossi that last year were made at Rome the day of the festival in the Piazza d’Agone,[433] which outwardly showed a likeness to great men and horses in a triumph, and within were full of tow and rags. But princes of this sort are much worse, in that the colossi keep upright merely by their great weight; while the princes, since they are ill balanced within and placed haphazard on uneven bases, fall to their ruin by reason of their own weight, and from one errour run into many; for their ignorance, together with the false belief that they cannot err and that the power which they have proceeds from their own wisdom, leads them to seize states boldly by fair means or foul, whenever they can.

8.—“But if they were resolved to know and to do that which they ought, they would be as set on not ruling as they are set on ruling; for they would perceive how monstrous and pernicious a thing it is when subjects, who are to be governed, are wiser than the princes who are to govern.

“You see that ignorance of music, of dancing, of horsemanship, is not harmful to any man; nevertheless, he who is no musician is ashamed and dares not sing in the presence of others, or dance if he knows not how, or ride if he has not a good seat. But from not knowing how to govern people there spring so many woes, deaths, destructions, burnings, ruins,—that it may be said to be the deadliest pest that is to be found on earth. And yet some princes who are very ignorant of government are not ashamed to undertake to govern, I will not say in the presence of four or of six men, but before all the world, for their rank is set so high that all eyes gaze on them, and hence not only their great but their least defects are always noted. Thus it is written that Cimon was accused of loving wine, Scipio of loving sleep, Lucullus of loving feasts.[434] But would to God that the princes of our time might couple their sins with as many virtues as did those ancients; who, although they erred in some respects, yet did not avoid the reminders and advice of anyone who seemed to them competent to correct those errours, but rather sought with all solicitude to order their lives after the precepts of excellent men: as Epaminondas after that of Lysis the Pythagorean,[435] Agesilaus after that of Xenophon, Scipio after that of Panætius, and countless others.[436]

“But if some of our princes were to happen upon a stern philosopher or any man who was willing openly and artlessly to show them the frightful face of true virtue, and to teach them what good behaviour is and what a good prince’s life ought to be, I am certain that they would loathe him like an asp, or in sooth deride him as a thing most vile.

9.—“I say, then, that since princes are to-day so corrupted by evil customs and by ignorance and mistaken self-esteem, and since it is so difficult to give them knowledge of the truth and lead them on to virtue, and since men seek to enter into their favour by lies and flatteries and such vicious means,—the Courtier, by the aid of those gentle qualities that Count Ludovico and messer Federico have given him, can with ease and should try to gain the good will and so charm the mind of his prince, that he shall win free and safe indulgence to speak of everything without being irksome. And if he be such as has been said, he will accomplish this with little trouble, and thus be able always to disclose the truth about all things with ease; and also to instil goodness into his prince’s mind little by little, and to teach continence, fortitude, justice, temperance, by giving a taste of how much sweetness is hidden by the little bitterness that at first sight appears to him who withstands vice; which is always hurtful and displeasing, and accompanied by infamy and blame, just as virtue is profitable, blithe and full of praise. And thereto he will be able to incite his prince by the example of the famous captains and other eminent men to whom the ancients were wont to make statues of bronze and of marble and sometimes of gold, and to erect the same in public places, both for the honour of these men and as a stimulus to others, so that they might be led by worthy emulation to strive to reach that glory too.

10.—“In this way the Courtier will be able to lead his prince along the thorny path of virtue, decking it as with shady leafage and strewing it with lovely flowers to relieve the tedium of the weary journey to one whose strength is slight; and now with music, now with arms and horses, now with verses, now with love talk, and with all those means whereof these gentlemen have told, to keep his mind continually busied with worthy pleasures, yet always impressing upon him also, as I have said, some virtuous practice along with these allurements, and playing upon him with salutary craft; like cunning doctors, who often anoint the edge of the cup with a sweet cordial, when they wish to give some bitter-tasting medicine to sick and over-delicate children.

“If, therefore, the Courtier put the veil of pleasure to such a use, he will reach his aim in every time and place and exercise, and will deserve much greater praise and reward than for any other good work that he could do in the world. For there is no good thing that is of such universal advantage as a good prince, nor any evil so universally noxious as a bad prince: hence, too, there is no punishment so harsh and cruel as to be a sufficient penalty for those wicked courtiers who use their gentle and pleasant ways and fine accomplishments to a bad end, and therewith seek their prince’s favour, in order to corrupt him and entice him from the path of virtue and lead him into vice; for such as these may be said to taint with deadly poison not a single cup from which one man alone must drink, but the public fountain used by all men.”

11.—My lord Ottaviano was silent, as if he did not wish to say more; but my lord Gaspar said:

“It does not seem to me, my lord Ottaviano, that this right-mindedness and continence, and the other virtues which you wish the Courtier to show his lord, can be learned; but I think that the men who have them are given them by nature and by God. And that this is true, you see that there is no man in the world so wicked and ill conditioned, or so intemperate and perverse, as to confess that he is so when he is asked; nay, everyone, however wicked he be, has pleasure in being deemed just, continent and good: which would not be the case if these virtues could be learned; for it is no disgrace not to know that to which one has given no study, but it seems a reproach indeed not to have that wherewith we ought to be adorned by nature. Hence everyone tries to hide his natural defects both of mind and of body too; which is seen in the blind, the halt and the crooked, and in others who are maimed or ugly; for although these imperfections may be ascribed to nature, still everyone dislikes to be sensible of them in himself, because he seems by nature’s own testimony to have that defect as it were for a seal and token of his wickedness.

“Moreover my opinion is confirmed by that story which is told of Epimetheus, who knew so ill how to distribute the gifts of nature among men that he left them much poorer in everything than all other creatures: wherefore Prometheus stole from Minerva and from Vulcan that artful cunning whereby men find the means of living;[437] but still they did not have the civic cunning to gather together in cities and live orderly lives, for this was guarded in Jove’s castle by very watchful warders, who so frightened Prometheus that he dared not approach them; wherefore Jove had compassion for the misery of men, who were torn by wild beasts because they could not stand together for lack of civic faculty, and sent Mercury to earth to bring them justice and shame, to the end that these two things might adorn their cities and unite the citizens. And he saw fit that they should not be given to men like the other arts, wherein one expert suffices for many ignorant (as in the case of medicine), but that they should be impressed upon each man; and he ordained a law that all who were without justice and shame should be exterminated and put to death like public pests. So you see, my lord Ottaviano, that these virtues are vouchsafed by God to men, and are not acquired, but natural.”

12.—Then my lord Ottaviano said, smiling:

“Do you then insist, my lord Gaspar, that men are so unhappy and perverse, that they have by industry discovered an art to tame the natures of wild beasts, bears, wolves, lions, and by it are able to teach a pretty bird to fly whither they like, and to return willingly from its woods and natural freedom to cages and captivity,—and yet that they cannot or will not by the same industry find arts to help themselves and improve their minds with diligence and study? To my thinking this would be as if physicians were to study with all diligence to acquire the mere art of healing sore nails and scurf in children, and were to leave off curing fevers, pleurisy and other serious maladies; and how out of all reason this would be, everyone can consider.

“Therefore I think that the moral virtues are not in us by nature wholly, for nothing can ever become used to that which is naturally contrary to it; as we see in the case of a stone, which although it were thrown upwards ten thousand times would never become used to move thither of itself; hence if virtue were as natural to us as weight is to the stone, we should never become used to vice. Nor, on the other hand, are the vices natural in this sense, for we should never be able to be virtuous; and it would be too unfair and foolish to chastise men for those defects that proceed from nature without our fault; and this errour would be committed by the law, which does not inflict punishment upon malefactors on account of their past errour (since what is done can not be undone), but has regard to the future, to the end that he who has erred may err no more nor be the cause of others erring through his bad example. And thus the law presumes that the virtues can be learned, which is very true; for we are born capable of receiving them and the vices also, and hence custom creates in us the habit of both the one and the other, so that we first practise virtue or vice, and then are virtuous or vicious.

“The contrary is observed in things that are bestowed by nature, which we first have the power to practise and then do practise: as is the case with the senses; for first we are able to see, hear and touch, then we see, hear and touch, although also many of these functions are perfected by training. Wherefore good masters teach children not only letters, but also good and seemly manners in eating, drinking, speaking and walking, with certain appropriate gestures.

13.—“Therefore as in the other arts, so too in virtue it is necessary to have a master, who by instruction and good reminders shall arouse and awake in us those moral virtues whereof we have the seed enclosed and buried in our soul, and like a good husbandman shall cultivate them and open the way for them by freeing us from the thorns and tares of appetite, which often so overshadow and choke our minds as not to let them blossom or bring forth those happy fruits which alone we should desire to have spring up in the human heart.

“In this sense, then, justice and shame, which you say Jove sent upon earth to all men, are natural in each one of us. But just as a body without eyes, however strong it be, often fails if it moves towards any object, so the root of these virtues potentially engendered in our minds often comes to naught if it be not helped by cultivation. For if it is to ripen into action and perfect character, nature alone is not enough, as has been said, but there is need of studied practice and of reason, to purify and clear the soul by lifting the dark veil of ignorance, from which nearly all the errours of men proceed,—because if good and evil were well perceived and understood, everyone would always prefer good and shun evil. Thus virtue may almost be said to be a kind of prudence and wit to prefer the good, and vice a kind of imprudence and ignorance which lead us to judge falsely; for men never prefer evil deeming it to be evil, but are deceived by a certain likeness that it bears to good.”

14.—Then my lord Gaspar replied:

“There are, however, many who know well that they are doing evil, and yet do it; and this because they have more thought for the present pleasure which they feel, than for the chastisement which they fear must come upon them: like thieves, homicides, and other such men.”

My lord Ottaviano said:

“True pleasure is always good, and true suffering always evil; therefore these men deceive themselves in taking false pleasure for true, and true suffering for false; hence by false pleasures they often run into true sufferings. Therefore that art which teaches how to discern the true from the false, may well be learned; and the faculty whereby we choose that which is truly good and not that which falsely seems so, may be called true wisdom and more profitable to human life than any other, because it dispels the ignorance from which, as I have said, all evils spring.”

15.—Then messer Pietro Bembo said:

“I do not know, my lord Ottaviano, whether my lord Gaspar ought to grant you that all evils spring from ignorance; and that there are not many who well know that they are sinning when they sin, and do not in the least deceive themselves as to true pleasure, nor yet as to true suffering. For it is certain that those who are incontinent judge reasonably and rightly, and know that to be evil to which they are prompted by their lusts in spite of duty, and therefore resist and set reason against appetite, whence arises a conflict of pleasure and pain against judgment. Conquered at last by too potent appetite, reason yields, like a ship which resists awhile the buffetings of the sea, but finally beaten by the too furious violence of the gale, with anchor and rigging broken, suffers herself to be driven at fortune’s will, without use of helm or any guidance of compass to save her.

“Therefore the incontinent commit their errours with a certain doubtful remorse, and as it were in their own despite; which they would not do if they did not know that what they are doing is evil, but would follow appetite without restraint of reason and wholly uncontrolled, and would then be not incontinent but intemperate, which is much worse. Thus incontinence is said to be a diminished vice, because it has a grain of reason in it; and likewise continence is said to be an imperfect virtue, because it has a grain of passion in it. Therefore in this, methinks, we cannot say that the errours of the incontinent proceed from ignorance, or that they deceive themselves and that they do not sin, when they well know that they are sinning.”

16.—My lord Ottaviano replied:

“In truth, messer Pietro, your argument is fine; yet to my thinking it is specious rather than sound, for although the incontinent sin hesitatingly, and reason struggles with appetite in their mind, and although that which is evil seems evil to them,—yet they have no perfect perception of it, nor do they know it so thoroughly as they need. Hence they have a vague idea rather than any certain knowledge of it, and thus allow their reason to be overcome by passion; but if they had true knowledge of it, doubtless they would not err: since the thing by which appetite conquers reason is always ignorance, and true knowledge can never be overcome by passion, which is derived from the body and not from the mind, and becomes virtue if rightly ruled and governed by reason; if not, it becomes vice.

“But reason has such power that it always reduces the senses to submission and enters in by wonderful means and ways, provided ignorance does not seize that which it ought to possess. So that although the spirits and nerves and bones have no reason in them, yet when a movement of the mind starts in us, as if thought were spurring and shaking the bridle on our spirits, all our members make ready,—the feet to run, the hands to take or to do that which the mind thinks; and moreover this is clearly seen in many who at times unwittingly eat some loathsome and disgusting food, which to their taste seems very delicious, and then learning what thing it was, not only suffer pain and distress of mind, but the body so follows the mental sense, that they must perforce cast up that food.”

17.—My lord Ottaviano was continuing his discourse further, but the Magnifico Giuliano interrupted him and said:

“If I heard aright, my lord Ottaviano, you said that continence is an imperfect virtue because it has a grain of passion in it; and when there is a struggle waging in our minds between reason and appetite, I think that the virtue which battles and gives reason the victory, ought to be esteemed more perfect than that which conquers without opposition of lust or passion; for there the mind seems not to abstain from evil by force of virtue, but to refrain from doing evil because it has no inclination thereto.”

Then my lord Ottaviano said:

“Which captain would you deem of greater worth, the one who fighting openly puts himself in danger and yet conquers the enemy, or the one who by his ability and skill deprives them of their strength, reducing them to such straits that they cannot fight, and thus conquers them without any battle or danger whatever?”

“The one,” said the Magnifico Giuliano, “who more safely conquers is without doubt more to be praised, provided this safe victory of his do not proceed from the cowardice of the enemy.”

My lord Ottaviano replied:

“You have judged rightly; and hence I tell you that continence may be likened to a captain who fights manfully, and although the enemy be strong and powerful, still conquers them, albeit not without great difficulty and danger. While temperance unperturbed is like that captain who conquers and rules without opposition, and having not only abated but quite extinguished the fire of lust in the mind where she abides, like a good prince in time of civil strife, she destroys her seditious enemies within, and gives reason the sceptre and whole dominion.

“Thus this virtue does not compel the mind, but infusing it by very gentle means with a vehement belief that inclines it to righteousness, renders it calm and full of rest, in all things equal and well measured, and disposed on every side by a certain self-accord which adorns it with a tranquillity so serene that it is never ruffled, and becomes in all things very obedient to reason and ready to turn its every act thereto and to follow wherever reason may wish to lead it, without the least unwillingness; like a tender lambkin, which always runs and stops and walks near its dam, and moves only with her.

“This virtue, then, is very perfect and especially befitting to princes, because from it spring many others.”

18.—Then messer Cesare Gonzaga said:

“I do not know what virtues befitting to a lord can spring from this temperance, if it is the one which removes the passions from the mind, as you say. Perhaps this would be fitting in a monk or hermit; but I am by no means sure whether it would befit a prince (who was magnanimous, liberal and valiant in arms) never to feel, whatever might be done to him, either wrath or hate or good will or scorn or lust or passion of any kind, and whether he could without this wield authority over citizens or soldiers.”

My lord Ottaviano replied:

“I did not say that temperance wholly removes and uproots the passions from the human mind, nor would it be well to do this, for even the passions contain some elements of good; but it reduces to the sway of reason that which is perverse in our passions and recusant to right. Therefore it is not well to extirpate the passions altogether, in order to be rid of disturbance; for this would be like making an edict that no one must drink wine, in order to be rid of drunkenness, or forbidding everyone to run, because in running we sometimes fall. You know that those who tame horses do not keep them from running and leaping, but would have them do so seasonably and in obedience to the rider.

“Thus, when moderated by temperance, the passions are helpful to virtue, like the wrath that aids strength, hatred of evil-doers aids justice, and likewise the other virtues are aided by the passions; which, if they were wholly removed, would leave the reason very weak and languid, so that it could effect little, like the master of a vessel abandoned by the winds in a great calm.

“Now do not marvel, messer Cesare, if I have said that many other virtues are born of temperance, for when a mind is attuned to this harmony, it then through the reason easily receives true strength, which makes it bold, and safe from every peril, and almost superior to human passions. Nor is this less true of justice (unspotted virgin, friend of modesty and good, queen of all the other virtues), because she teaches us to do that which it is right to do, and to shun that which it is right to shun; and therefore she is most perfect, because the other virtues perform their works through her, and because she is helpful to whomsoever possesses her, both to himself and to others: without whom (as it is said) Jove himself could not rule his kingdom rightly. Magnanimity also follows these and enhances them all; but she cannot stand alone, for whoever has no other virtue, cannot be magnanimous. Then the guide of these virtues is foresight, which consists in a certain judgment in choosing well. And in this happy chain are joined liberality, magnificence, thirst for honour, gentleness, pleasantness, affability and many others which there is not now time to name.

“But if our Courtier will do that which we have said, he will find them all in his prince’s mind, and will daily see spring therefrom beautiful flowers and fruits, such as all the delightful gardens in the world do not contain; and he will feel within him very great content when he remembers that he gave his prince, not that which fools give (which is gold or silver, vases, raiment, and the like, whereof the giver has very great dearth, and the recipient very great abundance), but that faculty which of all things human is perhaps the greatest and rarest—that is, the manner and mode of ruling and reigning rightly: which would of itself alone suffice to make men happy and to bring back once more to earth that age of gold which is said to have been when Saturn reigned.”

19.—My lord Ottaviano having here made a little pause as if to rest, my lord Gaspar said:

“Which do you think, my lord Ottaviano, the happier rule, and the more able to bring back to earth that age of gold which you have mentioned,—the rule of so good a prince, or the government of a good republic?”

My lord Ottaviano replied:

“I should always prefer the rule of a good prince, because such dominion is more accordant with nature, and (if it is allowed to compare small things with infinitely great) more like that of God, who governs the universe singly and alone.

“But leaving this aside, you see that in those things that are wrought by human skill,—such as armies, great fleets, buildings and the like,—the whole is referred to one man who governs to his liking. So too in our body all the members labour and are employed at the command of the heart. Moreover it seems fitting that the people should be ruled by one prince, as is the case also with many animals, to whom nature teaches this obedience as a very salutary thing. You know that stags, cranes and many other birds, when on their flight, always set up a leader, whom they follow and obey; and the bees obey their king as it were by process of reason, and with as much reverence as the most obedient people on earth; and hence all this is very strong proof that the dominion of princes is more accordant with nature than that of republics.”

20.—Then messer Pietro Bembo said:

“Yet it seems to me that since liberty has been given us by God as a supreme gift, it is not reasonable that we should be deprived of it, nor that one man should have a larger share of it than another: which happens under the dominion of princes, who for the most part hold their subjects in closest bondage. But in rightly ordered republics this liberty is fully preserved: besides which, both in judgments and in councils, it more often happens that one man’s opinion singly is wrong, than that of many; because disturbance arising from anger or scorn or lust more easily enters the mind of one man than that of the many, who are almost like a great body of water, which is less liable to corruption than a small one.

“I say, too, that the example of the animals does not seem to me apposite; for stags, cranes and the rest do not always set up the same one to follow and obey, but on the contrary change and vary, giving the dominion over them now to one, now to another, and thus come to be a kind of republic rather than a monarchy; and this may be called true and equal liberty, when those who command to-day in turn obey to-morrow. Neither does the example of the bees seem to me pertinent, for that king of theirs is not of their own species; and therefore whoever would give men a truly worthy lord, would need to find one of another species and of more excellent nature than that of men, if men must of reason obey him, like the herds which obey not an animal of their own kind but a herdsman, who is a man and of higher species than theirs.

“For these reasons, my lord Ottaviano, I think the rule of a republic is more desirable than that of a king.”

21.—Then my lord Ottaviano said:

“Against your opinion, messer Pietro, I wish to cite only one argument; which is, that of the modes of ruling people well, three kinds only are to be found: one is monarchy; another, the rule of the good, whom the ancients called optimates; the other, popular government. And the excess and opposite extreme, so to speak, wherein each one of the forms of rule falls to ruin and decay, is when monarchy becomes tyranny; and when the rule of the optimates changes to government by a few powerful and bad men; and when popular government is seized by the rabble, which breaks down distinctions and commits the government of the whole to the caprice of the multitude. Of these three kinds of bad government, it is certain that tyranny is the worst of all, as could be proved by many arguments; then it follows that monarchy is the best of the three kinds of good government, because it is the opposite of the worst; for, as you know, the results of opposite causes are themselves opposite.

“Now as to what you said about liberty, I reply that we ought not to say that true liberty is to live as we like, but to live according to good laws. Nor is it less natural and useful and necessary to obey than it is to command; and some things are born and thus appointed and ordained by nature to command, as certain others are to obey. True it is that there are two modes of ruling: the one imperious and violent, like that of masters towards their slaves, and in this way the soul commands the body; the other more mild and gentle, like that of good princes by means of laws over their subjects, and in this way the reason commands the appetite: and both of these modes are useful, for the body is by nature created apt for obedience to the soul, and so is appetite for obedience to reason. Moreover there are many men whose actions have to do only with the use of the body; and such as these are as far from virtuous as the soul from the body, and although they are rational creatures, they have only such share of reason as to recognize it but not to possess or profit by it. These, therefore, are naturally slaves, and it is better and more profitable for them to obey than to command.”

22.—Thereupon my lord Gaspar said:

“In what mode then are the discreet and virtuous, and those who are not by nature slaves, to be ruled?”

My lord Ottaviano replied:

“With that gentle rule, kingly and civic. And to such men it is well sometimes to give the charge of those offices for which they are fitted, to the end that they too may be able to command and govern those less wise than themselves, but in such manner that the chief rule shall wholly depend upon the supreme prince. And since you said that it is an easier thing for the mind of one man to be corrupted than for that of many, I say that it is also an easier thing to find one good and wise man than many. And to be good and wise ought to be deemed possible for a king of noble race, inclined to worthiness by his natural instinct and by the illustrious memory of his predecessors, and practised in good behaviour; and if he be not of another species more than human (as you said of the bee-king), being aided by the teachings and by the education and skill of so prudent and excellent a Courtier as these gentlemen have described,—he will be very just, continent, temperate, strong and wise, full of liberality, magnificence, religion and clemency. In short, he will be very glorious, and very dear to men and to God (by whose grace he will attain that heroic worth which will make him exceed the limits of humanity), and may be called a demigod rather than a mortal man.

“For God delights in and protects, not those princes who wish to imitate Him by displaying great power and making themselves adored of men, but those who, besides the power that makes them mighty, strive to make themselves like Him in goodness and wisdom, whereby they wish and are able to do good and to be His ministers, distributing for men’s weal the benefits and gifts which they receive from Him. Thus, just as in heaven the sun and moon and other stars show the world as in a mirrour some likeness of God, so on earth a much liker image of God is found in those good princes who love and revere Him, and show their people the shining light of His justice and a reflection of His divine reason and mind; and with such as these God shares His righteousness, equity, justice and goodness, and those other happy blessings which I know not how to name, but which display to the world much clearer proof of divinity than the sun’s light, or the continual revolving of the heavens and the various coursing of the stars.

23.—“Accordingly men have been placed by God under the ward of princes, who for this reason ought to take diligent care of them, in order to render Him an account of them like good stewards to their lord, and ought to love them, and regard as personal to themselves every good and evil thing that happens to them, and provide for their happiness above every other thing. Therefore the prince ought not only to be good, but also to make others good, like that square used by architects, which not only is straight and true itself, but also makes straight and true all things to which it is applied. And a very great proof that the prince is good is when his people are good, because the prince’s life is law and preceptress to his subjects, and upon his behaviour all the others must needs depend; nor is it fitting for an ignorant man to teach, nor for an unordered man to give orders, nor for one who falls to raise up others.

“Hence if the prince would perform these duties rightly, he must devote every study and diligence to wisdom; then he must set before himself and follow steadfastly in everything the law of reason (unwritten on paper or metal, but graven upon his own mind), to the end that it may be not only familiar to him, but ingrained in him, and abide with him as a part of himself; so that day and night, in every place and time, it may admonish him and speak inwardly to his heart, freeing him from those disturbances that are felt by intemperate minds, which—because they are oppressed on the one hand as it were by the very deep sleep of ignorance, and on the other by the travail which they suffer from their perverse and blind desires—are tossed by relentless fury, as a sleeper sometimes is by strange and dreadful visions.

24.—“Moreover, by adding greater power to evil wish, greater harm is added also; and when the prince is able to do that which he wishes, then there is great danger that he will not wish that which he ought. Hence Bias well said that office shows what men are:[438] for just as vases with some crack in them cannot easily be detected so long as they are empty, yet if liquid be poured in they at once show where the flaw is;—so corrupt and vicious minds seldom disclose their defects except when they are filled with authority; because then they do not suffice to bear the heavy weight of power, and hence run all lengths and scatter on every side the greeds, the pride, the bad temper, the insolence, and those tyrannical practices, which they have within them. Thus they recklessly persecute the good and wise and exalt the wicked, and in their cities they permit neither friendships nor unions nor understandings among their subjects, but maintain spies, informers and murderers, in order that they may frighten and make men cowardly, and sow discords to keep men disunited and weak. And from these ways there then ensue countless ruin and losses to the unhappy people, and often cruel death (or at least continual fear) to the tyrants themselves; because good princes are not afraid for themselves, but for those whom they rule, while tyrants fear even those whom they rule; hence the greater the number of people they rule and the more powerful they are, so much the more do they fear and so many more enemies do they have.

“How frightened and of what uneasy mind do you think was Clearchus, tyrant of Pontus,[439] every time he went into the market-place or theatre, or to a banquet or other public place? who, as it is written, was wont to sleep shut up in a chest. Or that other tyrant, Aristodemus the Argive?[440] who made a kind of prison of his bed: for in his palace he had a little room hung in air, and so high that it could be reached only by a ladder; and here he slept with one of his women, whose mother took away the ladder at night and replaced it in the morning.

“A wholly different life from this, then, ought that of the good prince to be, free and safe and as dear to his subjects as their very own, and so ordered as to partake both of the active and of the contemplative, as much as may comport with his people’s weal.”

25.—Then my lord Gaspar said:

“And which of these two lives, my lord Ottaviano, seems to you more fitting for the prince?”

My lord Ottaviano replied, laughing:

“Perhaps you think I imagine myself to be that excellent Courtier who ought to know so many things and apply them to that good end which I have set forth; but remember that these gentlemen have described him with many accomplishments that are not in me. Therefore let us first take care to find him, for I leave to him both this and all things else that belong to a good prince.”

Then my lord Gaspar said:

“I think that if any of the accomplishments ascribed to the Courtier are lacking in you, they are music and dancing and others of small importance, rather than those that belong to the moulding of the prince and to this end of Courtiership.”

My lord Ottaviano replied:

“None of those are of small importance that help to win the prince’s favour, which is necessary (as we have said) before the Courtier risks trying to teach him virtue; which I think I have proved can be learned, and in which there is as much profit as there is loss in ignorance, whence spring all sins, and especially that false esteem which men cherish of themselves. But methinks I have said enough, and perhaps more than I promised.”

Then my lady Duchess said:

“We shall be the more beholden to your courtesy, the more your performance outstrips your promise; so do not weary of saying what occurs to you about my lord Gaspar’s question; and by your faith, tell us also everything that you would teach your prince if he had need of instruction, and imagine yourself to have won completely his favour, so that you are allowed to tell him freely what comes into your mind.”

26.—My lord Ottaviano laughed, and said:

“If I had the favour of a certain prince whom I know, and were to tell him freely what I think, I fear that I should soon lose it; moreover, to teach him, I myself should first need to learn.

“Yet since it pleases you to have me answer my lord Gaspar further concerning this, I say that I think princes ought to lead both the two lives, but more especially the contemplative life, because in their case this is divided into two parts: one of which consists in perceiving rightly and in judging; the other in commanding (justly and in those ways that are fitting) things reasonable and those wherein they have authority, and in requiring the same of such men as have in reason to obey, and at appropriate times and places; and of this Duke Federico spoke when he said that whoever knows how to command is always obeyed. And as command is always the chief office of princes, they ought often to see with their own eyes and be present at the execution of their commands, and ought also sometimes to take part themselves, according to the time and need; and all this partakes of action: but the aim of the

## active life ought to be the contemplative, as peace is that of war,

repose that of toil.

27.—“Therefore it is also the good prince’s office so to establish his people, and under such laws and ordinances, that they may live at ease and peace, without danger and with dignity, and may worthily enjoy this end of their actions, which ought to be tranquillity. For many republics and princes are often found that have been very prosperous and great in war, and as soon as they have had peace they have gone to ruin and lost their greatness and splendour, like iron laid aside. And this has come about from nothing else but from their not having been well established for living at peace, and from their not knowing how to enjoy the blessing of ease. And to be always at war, without seeking to arrive at the end of peace, is not permitted: albeit some princes think that their chief aim ought to be to lord it over their neighbours; and therefore they train their people to a warlike ferocity for spoil, killing and the like, and give rewards to excite it, and call it virtue.

“Thus it was once a custom among the Scythians that whoever had not slain an enemy might not drink from the bowl which was handed about to the company at solemn feasts. In other places they used to set up, around a tomb, as many obelisks as he who was buried there had slain enemies; and all these things were done to make men warlike, solely in order to lord it over others: which was almost impossible, because the undertaking was endless (until the whole world should be subjugated) and far from reasonable according to the law of nature, which will not have us pleased with that in others which is displeasing to us in ourselves.

“Therefore princes ought not to make their people warlike for lust of rule, but for the sake of being able to defend themselves and their people against him who would reduce them to bondage or do them wrong in any wise; or to drive out tyrants and govern those people well who were ill used, or to reduce to bondage those who are by nature such as to deserve being made slaves, with the object of governing them well and giving them ease and rest and peace. To this end also the laws and all the ordinances of justice ought to be directed, by punishing the wicked, not from hatred, but in order that they may not be wicked and to the end that they may not disturb the tranquillity of the good. For in truth it is a monstrous thing and worthy of blame for men to show themselves valiant and wise in war (which is bad in itself) and in peace and quiet (which are good) to show themselves ignorant and of so little worth that they know not how to enjoy their happiness.

“Hence, just as in war men ought to apply themselves to the qualities that are useful and necessary to attain its end, which is peace,—so in peace, to attain its end also, which is tranquillity, they ought to apply themselves to the righteous qualities that are the end of the useful. And thus subjects will be good, and the prince will have much more to praise and reward than to punish; and dominion will be very happy for the subjects and for the prince—not imperious, like that of master over slave, but sweet and gentle, like that of a good father over a good son.”

28.—Then my lord Gaspar said:

“I should much like to know what these virtues are that are useful and necessary in war, and what ones are righteous in peace.”

My lord Ottaviano replied:

“All virtues are good and helpful, because they tend to a good end; but of especial utility in war is that true courage which so frees the mind from the passions that it not only fears not dangers, but even pays no heed to them; likewise steadfastness, and that enduring patience, with a mind staunch and undisturbed by all the shocks of fortune. It is also fitting in war, and always, to have all the virtues that make for right,—like justice, continence, temperance; but much more in time of peace and ease, because men placed in prosperity and ease, when good fortune smiles upon them, often become unjust, intemperate, and allow themselves to be corrupted by pleasures: hence those who are in such case have very great need of these virtues, for ease too readily engenders evil behaviour in human minds. Therefore it was anciently said as a proverb, slaves should be given no ease; and it is believed that the pyramids of Egypt were made to keep the people busy, because it is very good for everyone to be accustomed to bear toil.

“There are still many other virtues that are all helpful, but let it suffice for the present that I have spoken until now; for if I knew how to teach my prince and instruct him in this kind of worthy education such as we have planned, merely by so doing I should deem myself to have attained sufficiently well the aim of the good Courtier.”

29.—Then my lord Gaspar said:

“My lord Ottaviano, since you have highly praised good education, and seemed almost to think that it is the chief means of making a man virtuous and good, I should like to know whether this instruction, which the Courtier must give his prince, ought to be begun with practice and with daily behaviour as it were, so as to accustom him to right doing without his perceiving it; or whether a beginning ought to be made by demonstrating to his reason the quality of good and evil, and by making him understand, before he sets out, which is the good way and the one to follow, and which is the bad way and the one to avoid: in short whether his mind ought to be first imbued and implanted with the virtues through the reason and intelligence or through practice.”

My lord Ottaviano said:

“You start me upon too long a discourse; still, in order that you may not think I abstain from lack of will to answer your questions, I say that just as our mind and body are two things, so too the soul is divided into two parts, of which one has the reason in it, and the other has the appetite. Then, just as in generation the body precedes the soul, so the unreasoning part of the soul precedes the reasoning part: which is clearly perceived in children, in whom anger and lust are seen almost as soon as they are born, but with the lapse of time reason appears. Hence care must be taken of the body earlier than of the soul, and of appetite earlier than of reason; but care of the body with a view to the soul, and of the appetite with a view to reason: for just as intellectual worth is perfected by instruction, so is moral worth perfected by practice. We ought, therefore, first to teach through habit, which is able to govern the as yet unreasoning appetites and to direct them towards the good by means of that fair use; next we ought to establish them through the understanding, which, although it shows its light more tardily, still furnishes a mode of making the virtues more perfectly fruitful to one whose mind is well trained by practice,—wherein, to my thinking, lies the whole matter.”

30.—My lord Gaspar said:

“Before you go further, I should like to know what care ought to be taken of the body, since you said that we ought to take care of it earlier than of the soul.”

“As to that,” replied my lord Ottaviano, laughing, “ask those who nourish their bodies well, and are plump and fresh; for mine, as you see, is not too well conditioned. Yet of this also it would be possible to say much, as of the proper time for marriage, to the end that the children may not be too near or too far from their father’s age; of the exercises and education to be followed from birth and during the rest of life, in order to make them handsome, strong and sturdy.”

My lord Gaspar replied:

“That which would best please women for making their children handsome and beautiful, methinks would be that community wherein Plato in his Republic wishes them to be held, and after that manner.”[441]

Then my lady Emilia said, laughing:

“It is not in the compact that you should fall to speaking ill of women again.”

“I think,” replied my lord Gaspar, “that I give them great praise in saying that they wish to bring in a custom approved by so great a man.”

Messer Cesare Gonzaga said, laughing:

“Let us see whether this could have place among my lord Ottaviano’s precepts (I do not know if he has rehearsed them all), and whether it were well for the prince to make it law.”

“The few that I have rehearsed,” replied my lord Ottaviano, “might perhaps suffice to make a prince good, as princes go nowadays; although if one cared to look into the matter more minutely, he would still have much more to say.”

My lady Duchess added:

“Since it costs us nothing but words, tell us on your faith everything that it would occur to your mind to teach your prince.”

31.—My lord Ottaviano replied:

“Many other things, my Lady, would I teach him, provided I knew them; and among others, that he should choose from his subjects a number of the noblest and wisest gentlemen, with whom he should consult on everything, and that he should give them authority and free leave to speak their mind to him about all things without ceremony; and that he should preserve such demeanour towards them, that they all might perceive that he wished to know the truth about everything and held all manner of falsehood in hatred. Besides this council of nobles, I should advise that there be chosen from the people other men of lower rank, of whom a popular council should be made, to communicate with the council of nobles concerning the affairs of the city, both public and private. And in this way there would be made of the prince (as of the head) and of the nobles and commonalty (as of the members) a single united body, the government of which would spring chiefly from the prince and yet include the others also; and this state would thus have the form of the three good kinds of government, which are Monarchy, Optimates, and People.[442]

32.—“Next I should show him that of the cares which belong to the prince, the most important is that of justice; for the maintenance of which wise and well-tried men ought to be chosen to office, whose foresight is true foresight accompanied by goodness, for else it is not foresight, but cunning; and when this goodness is lacking, the pleaders’ skill and subtlety always work nothing but ruin and destruction to law and justice, and the guilt of all their errours must be laid on him who put them in office.

“I should tell how justice also fosters that piety towards God which is the duty of all men, and especially of princes, who ought to love Him above every other thing and direct all their actions to Him as to the true end; and as Xenophon said, to honour and love Him always, but much more when they are in prosperity, so that afterwards they may the more reasonably have confidence to ask Him for mercy when they are in some adversity.[443] For it is impossible to govern rightly either one’s self or others without the help of God; who to the good sometimes sends good fortune as His minister to relieve them from grievous perils; sometimes adverse fortune, to prevent their being so lulled by prosperity as to forget Him or human foresight, which often repairs evil fortune, as a good player repairs bad throws of the dice by placing his board well.[444] Moreover I should not cease reminding the prince to be truly religious—not superstitious or given to the vanities of incantation and sooth-saying; for by adding divine piety and true religion to human foresight, he would have good fortune too and a protecting God always to increase his prosperity in peace and in war.

33.—“Next I should tell how he ought to love his land and people, not holding them too much in bondage, lest he make himself odious to them, from which thing there arise seditions, conspiracies and a thousand other evils; nor yet in too great freedom, lest he be despised, from which proceed licentious and dissolute life among his people, rapine, theft, murder, without any fear of the law; often the ruin and total destruction of city and realms. Next, how he ought to love those near him according to their degree, maintaining among all men an even equality in some things, as in justice and liberty; and in certain other things a judicious inequality, as in being generous, in rewarding, in distributing honours and dignities according to the inequality of their merits, which always ought not to exceed but to be exceeded by their rewards; and that in this way he would be not merely loved but almost adored by his subjects. Nor would there be need that he should turn to aliens for the safeguard of his life, because his own people for their very profit would guard it with their own, and all men would gladly obey the laws, when they found that he himself obeyed and was as it were the guardian and incorruptible minister of the same; and thus he would make so strong an impression in this matter, that even if he sometimes chanced to infringe the laws in some particular, everyone would feel that it was done for a good end, and the same respect and reverence would be paid to his wish as to the law itself.

“Thus the minds of his subjects would be so tempered that the good would not seek for more than they needed, and the bad could not; for excessive riches are oftentimes the cause of great ruin, as in poor Italy, which has been and still is exposed as a prey to foreign nations, both because of bad government and because of the great riches of which it is full. Hence it were well to have the greater part of the citizens neither very rich nor very poor, for the over-rich often become insolent and rash; the poor, base and dishonest; but men of moderate fortune do not lay snares for others, and live safe from being snared: and being the greater number, these men of moderate fortune are also more powerful; and therefore neither the poor nor the rich can conspire against the prince or other men, nor can they sow seditions; wherefore, in order to avoid this evil, it is a very wholesome thing to preserve a mean in all things.

34.—“I should say then, that the prince ought to employ these and many other suitable precautions, so that there may not arise in his subjects’ mind a desire for new things and for a change of government; which they most often bring to pass either for gain or else for honour which they hope for, or because of loss or else of shame which they fear. And this unrest is engendered in their minds sometimes by hatred and anger driving them to despair, by reason of the wrongs and insults that have been wrought upon them through the avarice, insolence and cruelty or lust of their superiors; sometimes by the contempt that is aroused in them by the neglect and baseness and unworthiness of their princes. These two errours ought to be avoided by winning the people’s love and obedience; as is done by benefiting and rewarding the good, and by prudently and sometimes severely precluding the bad and seditious from becoming powerful, which is much easier to prevent before they have become so than to deprive them of power after they have once acquired it. And I should say that to prevent a subject from running into these errours, there is no better way than to keep him from evil practices, and especially from those that spread little by little; for they are secret pests that infect cities before it is possible to cure or even to detect them.

“By such means I should advise that the prince contrive to keep his subjects in a tranquil state, and to give them the blessings of mind and body and fortune; but those of the body and of fortune, in order to be able to exercise those of the mind, which are the more profitable the greater and more superabundant they are; which is not true of those of the body and of fortune. If, then, the subjects be good and worthy and rightly directed towards the goal of happiness, their prince is a very great lord; for that is a true and great dominion, under which the subjects are good and well governed and well commanded.”

35.—Then my lord Gaspar said:

“I think that he would be a small lord under whom all the subjects were good, for in every place the good are few.”

My lord Ottaviano replied:

“If some Circe were to change all the subjects of the King of France into wild beasts, would he not seem to you a small lord for all he ruled over so many thousand animals?[445] And on the other hand, if only the flocks that roam our mountains here for pasture were to become wise men and worthy cavaliers, would you not think that those herdsmen who governed them and were obeyed by them, had become great lords instead of herdsmen? You see then, that it is not the number but the worth of their subjects that makes princes great.”

36.—My lady Duchess and my lady Emilia and all the others had been for a good space very attentive to my lord Ottaviano’s discourse; but since he now made a little pause, as if he had finished his discourse, messer Cesare Gonzaga said:

“Verily, my lord Ottaviano, it cannot be said that your precepts are not good and useful; nevertheless I should think that if you fashioned your prince after them, you would rather deserve the name of a good school-master than of a good Courtier, and he rather that of a good governor than of a great prince. I am far from saying that the care of lords should not be to have their people well ruled with justice and good uses; nevertheless methinks it is enough for them to select good ministers to dispose of such matters, and that their true office is much greater.

“Therefore if I felt myself to be that excellent Courtier which these gentlemen have described, and to possess the favour of my prince, I certainly should not lead him into anything vicious; but, to pursue that good end which you tell of, and which I agree ought to be the fruit of the Courtier’s toils and actions, I should seek to impress upon his mind a certain greatness, together with that regal splendour and readiness of mind and unconquered valour in war which should make him loved and revered by everyone to such a degree that he should be famous and illustrious in the world chiefly for this. I should tell him also that he ought to accompany his greatness with a familiar gentleness, with that sweet and amiable humanity, and a fine manner of caressing both his subjects and strangers with discrimination, more or less according to their merits,—always preserving, however, the majesty suited to his rank, so as not to allow his authority to abate one jot from over-condescension, nor on the other hand to excite hatred by too stern severity; that he ought to be very generous and splendid, and to give to all men without reserve, because God, as the saying runs, is the treasurer of generous princes; that he ought to give magnificent banquets, festivals, games, public shows; to have a great number of excellent horses (for use in war and for pleasure in time of peace), falcons, hounds, and all things else that pertain to the pleasures of great lords and of the people: as in our days we have seen done by my lord Francesco Gonzaga, Marquess of Mantua, who in these matters seems rather King of Italy than lord of a city.[446]

“I should seek also to induce him to erect great buildings, both to win honour in his lifetime and to give a memorial of himself to posterity: as Duke Federico did in the case of this noble palace,[447] and as Pope Julius is now doing in the case of St. Peter’s Church[448] and of that street which leads from the Palace to his pleasure pavilion the Belvedere,[449] and many other buildings: as also the ancient Romans did, whereof we see so many remains at Rome and at Naples, at Pozzuoli, at Baja, at Civita Vecchia, at Porto,[450] and out of Italy too, and many other places,—which are great proof of the worth of those divine minds.[451] So did Alexander the Great also, for not content with the fame that he had justly won by having conquered the world with arms, he built Alexandria in Egypt, Bucephalia in India,[452] and other cities in other countries; and he thought of reducing Mount Athos to the form of a man, and of building a very spacious city in its left hand, and in its right a great basin in which were to be gathered all the rivers that take their rise there, and from it they were to flow over into the sea:[453] a truly great thought and one worthy of Alexander the Great.

“These, my lord Ottaviano, are things which I think befit a noble and true prince, and make him very glorious in peace and war; and not setting his mind to so many trifles, and taking care to fight solely in order to rule or conquer those who deserve to be ruled, or for his subjects’ profit, or to deprive those of power who wield it ill. For if the Romans, Alexander, Hannibal and the others had had these aims, they would not have reached that height of glory to which they did attain.”

[Illustration:

POPE JULIUS II GIULIANO DELLA ROVERE 1443-1513 ]

Reduced from a part of Braun’s photograph (no. 42.079) of the portrait, in the Pitti Gallery at Florence, by Raphael (1483-1520). Of two similar portraits, one is in the Uffizi Gallery at Florence, and the other is in the National Gallery at London. Both Passavant and Morelli affirmed the superior authenticity of the picture here presented, which is believed to have been painted for the Duke of Urbino.

37.—Then my lord Ottaviano replied, laughing:

“Those who had not these aims, would have done better if they had; although if you think, you will find many that did, and particularly those first ancients, like Theseus and Hercules. And do not imagine that Procrustes and Sciron, Cacus, Diomed, Antæus, Geryon, were other than cruel and impious tyrants, against whom these lofty-minded heroes waged perpetual and deadly war.[454] Therefore, for having delivered the world from such intolerable monsters (for only thus ought tyrants to be called), temples were raised and sacrifices offered to Hercules, and divine honours paid to him; since the extirpation of tyrants is a benefit so profitable to the world that he who confers it deserves much greater reward than any befitting to a mortal.[455]

“And of those whom you named, do you not think that by his victories Alexander did good to the peoples whom he conquered, having taught so many good customs to those barbarous tribes which he overcame, that out of wild beasts he made them men? He built so many fine cities in lands that were ill-inhabited, and introduced right living there, and as it were united Asia and Europe by the bond of friendship and holy laws, that those who were conquered by him were happier than the others. For to some he taught marriage, to others agriculture, to others religion, others he taught not to kill but to support their fathers when grown old, others to abstain from union with their mothers, and a thousand other things that could be told in proof of the benefit which his victories conferred upon the world.

38.—“But leaving the ancients aside, what more noble and glorious enterprise and more profitable could there be than for Christians to devote their power to subjugating the infidels?[456] Do you not think that this war, if it succeeded prosperously and were the means of turning so many thousand men from the false sect of Mahomet to the light of Christian truth, would be as profitable to the vanquished as to the victors? And truly, as Themistocles once said to his family, being banished from his native land and received by the King of Persia and caressed and honoured with countless and very rich gifts: ‘My friends, we should have been undone but for our undoing;’[457] so with reason might the Turks and Moors then say the same, because in their loss would lie their salvation.

“Therefore I hope that we shall yet see this happiness, if God grant life enough for Monseigneur d’Angoulême to attain the crown of France,[458] who gives such promise of himself as my lord Magnifico told of four evenings since; and for my lord Henry, Prince of Wales,[459] to attain that of England, who now is growing up under his great father in every sort of virtue,[460] like a tender shoot under the shade of an excellent and fruit-laden tree, to renew it with much greater beauty and fruitfulness when the time shall be; for as our friend Castiglione writes thence,[461] and promises to tell more fully on his return, it seems that nature wished in this lord to show her power by gathering in a single body enough excellences to adorn a host.”

Then messer Bernardo Bibbiena said:

“Very great promise is shown also by Don Carlos, Prince of Spain, who (although not yet arrived at the tenth year of his age) already shows so much capacity and such certain signs of goodness, of foresight, of modesty, of magnanimity and of every virtue, that if the empire of Christendom shall be (as men think) in his hands, we may believe that he must eclipse the name of many ancient emperors, and equal the fame of the most famous that have been on earth.”[462]

39.—My lord Ottaviano added:

“I think, then, that such divine princes as these have been sent by God on earth, and by Him made to resemble one another in youth, in martial power, in state, in beauty and bodily shape, to the end that they may be of one accord for this good purpose also. And if there must ever be any envy or emulation among them, it may be solely in wishing to be each the first and most fervent and zealous for so glorious an enterprise.

“But let us leave this discourse and return to our subject. I say, then, messer Cesare, that the things which you wish the prince to do are very great and worthy of much praise; but you ought to understand that if he does not know that which I have said he ought to know, and has not formed his mind after that pattern and directed it to the path of virtue, he will hardly know how to be magnanimous, generous, just, courageous, foreseeing, or to possess any of those other qualities that are looked for in him. Nor yet would I have him such merely for the sake of being able to exercise these qualities: for just as those who build are not all good architects, so those who give are not all generous; because virtue never harms any man, and there are many who rob in order to give away, and thus are generous with the property of others; some give to those they ought not, and leave in misfortune and distress those to whom they are beholden; others give with a certain bad grace and almost spite, so that men see they do so on compulsion; others not only make no secret of it, but call witnesses and almost proclaim their generosities; others foolishly empty the fountain of their generosity at a draught, so that it can be no more used again.

[Illustration:

PRINCE HENRY OF WALES AFTERWARDS HENRY VIII OF ENGLAND 1491-1547 ]

Reduced from Walker and Boutall’s photograph of an anonymous portrait (no. 157) in the National Portrait Gallery at London. Painted on copper, and formerly owned by Mr. Barrett at Lee Priory, Kent, the picture was acquired by the Gallery from the Messrs. Graves in 1863.

40.—“Hence in this, as in other things, it is needful to know and to govern one’s self with that foresight which is the necessary companion of all the virtues; which being midway are near the two extremes—that is, the vices; and thus he who does not know, easily runs into them. For just as it is difficult to find the central point in a circle, which is the mean, so is it difficult to find the point of virtue set midway between the two extremes (vicious, the one because of excess, the other because of deficiency); and to these we are inclined, sometimes to one and sometimes to the other. We perceive this in the pleasure or displeasure that we feel within us, for by reason of the one we do that which we ought not, and by reason of the other we fail to do that which we ought; but the pleasure is much the more dangerous, because our judgment allows itself to be easily corrupted by it.

“But since it is a difficult thing to perceive how far a man is from the central point of virtue, we ought of our own accord to withdraw step by step in the direction opposite to the extreme towards which we perceive ourselves to be inclined, as those do who straighten crooked timbers; for in such wise we approximate to virtue, which (as I have said) consists in that central point. Hence it happens that we err in many ways and perform our office and duty in only one way, just like archers, who hit the mark by one way only and miss the target by many. Thus, in his wish to be humane and affable, one prince often does countless things beneath his dignity, and so abases himself that he is despised; another, to preserve his grave majesty with becoming authority, becomes austere and intolerable; another, to be held eloquent, strays into a thousand strange fashions and long mazes of affected words, listening to himself to such a degree that others cannot listen to him for weariness.

41.—“Therefore do not call anything a trifle, messer Cesare, that can improve a prince in any particular, however slight it be; nor must you suppose that I think you disparage my precepts when you say that by them a good governor would be fashioned rather than a good prince; for perhaps no greater or more fitting praise can be given to a prince than to call him a good governor. Hence if it lay with me to instruct him, I would have him take care to heed not only the matters already mentioned, but those which are much smaller, and as far as possible understand all details affecting his people, nor ever so believe or trust any one of his ministers as to confide to that one alone the bridle and control of all his government. For there is no man who is very apt for all things, and much greater harm arises from the credulity of lords than from their incredulity, which not only sometimes does no harm, but often is of the greatest advantage: albeit in this matter there is need of good judgment in the prince, to perceive who deserves to be believed and who does not.

“I would have him take care to understand the acts and be the overseer of his ministers; to settle and shorten disputes among his subjects; to be the means of making peace among them, and of allying them in marriage; to have his city all united and agreed in friendship like a private family, populous, not poor, peaceful, full of good artificers; to favour merchants and even to aid them with money; to be generous and splendid in hospitality towards foreigners and ecclesiastics; to moderate all superfluities, for through the errours that are committed in these matters, small though they seem, cities often come to ruin. Wherefore it is reasonable that the prince should set a limit upon the too sumptuous houses of private folk, upon feasts, upon the excessive doweries of women, upon their luxury, upon their display in jewels and vesture, which is naught but a proof of their folly; for besides often wasting their husbands’ goods and substance through the ambition and the envy which they bear one another, they sometimes sell their honour to anyone who will buy it, for the sake of a trinket or some other like trifle.”

[Illustration:

FEDERICO GONZAGA MARQUESS AND AFTERWARDS DUKE OF MANTUA 1500-1540 ]

Enlarged from a cast, kindly furnished by M. Pierre Valton, of an anonymous and probably unique medal in his collection at Paris. See Armand’s _Les Médailleurs Italiens_, ii, 155, no. 1.

42.—Then messer Bernardo Bibbiena said, laughing:

“My lord Ottaviano, you are taking sides with my lord Gaspar and Frisio.”

My lord Ottaviano replied, also laughing:

“The dispute is finished, and I am far from wishing to renew it; so I shall say no more of women, but return to my prince.”

Frisio replied:

“You can very well leave him now, and rest content that he should be such as you have described him. For without doubt it would be easier to find a lady with the qualities mentioned by my lord Magnifico, than a prince with the qualities mentioned by you; hence I fear that he is like Plato’s Republic, and that we are never to see his equal, unless perhaps in Heaven.”

My lord Ottaviano replied:

“Although they be difficult, things that are possible may still be hoped to come to pass. Therefore we shall in our times perhaps yet see him on earth; for although the heavens are so chary of producing excellent princes that hardly one is seen in many centuries, this good fortune may fall to us.”

Then Count Ludovico said:

“I certainly trust that it may be so; for, besides those three great princes whom we have named, to whom we may look for that which has been said to befit the highest type of a perfect prince,—there are also to be found in Italy to-day several princes’ sons, who, although they are not likely to have such great power, will perhaps fill its place with worth. And the one among them all who shows the best natural bent, and gives greater promise than any of the others, seems to me to be my lord Federico Gonzaga, eldest son of the Marquess of Mantua and nephew to our lady Duchess here.[463] For besides the gentleness of behaviour and the discretion which he shows at such a tender age, those who have charge of him tell wonderful things of his capacity, eagerness for honour, magnanimity, courtesy, generosity, love of justice; so that from so good a beginning we cannot but hope for the best of ends.”

Then Frisio said:

“No more of this at present; we will pray God that we may see this hope of yours fulfilled.”

43.—Here my lord Ottaviano, turning to my lady Duchess with an air of having finished his discourse, said:

“There, my Lady, is what occurs to me to say about the aim of the Courtier; wherein, if I shall not have wholly given satisfaction, it will at least be enough for me to have shown that some further perfection could be given him in addition to the things mentioned by these gentlemen; who, methinks, omitted both this and all that I might say, not because they did not know it better than I, but in order to save themselves trouble; therefore I will leave them to continue, if they have anything left to say.”

Then my lady Duchess said:

“Not only is the hour so late that it will soon be time to stop for the evening, but it seems to me that we ought not to mingle any other discourse with this; wherein you have gathered so many different and beautiful things, that we may say (touching the aim of Courtiership) not only that you are the perfect Courtier whom we seek, and competent to instruct your prince rightly, but if fortune shall be favourable to you, that you ought also to be an admirable prince, which would be of great advantage to your country.”[464]

My lord Ottaviano laughed, and said:

“If I held such rank, my Lady, perhaps it would be with me as it is wont to be with many others, who know better how to speak than to act.”

44.—Here the matter having been debated back and forth awhile among the whole company, with some little contradiction albeit in praise of what had been said, and it being suggested that it was not yet time to go to rest, the Magnifico Giuliano said, laughing:

“My Lady, I am so great an enemy to guile, that I am forced to contradict my lord Ottaviano, who, from having (as I fear) conspired secretly with my lord Gaspar against women, has fallen into two errours to my thinking very grave: one of which is, that in order to set this Courtier above the Court Lady and make him transcend the bounds that she can reach, my lord Ottaviano has set the Courtier also above the prince, which is most unseemly; the other is in setting him such a goal that it is always difficult, and sometimes impossible for him to reach it, and that even when he does reach it, he ought not to be called a Courtier.”

“I do not understand,” said my lady Emilia, “how it should be so difficult or impossible for the Courtier to reach this goal of his, nor yet how my lord Ottaviano has set him above the prince.”[465]

“Do not grant him these things,” replied my lord Ottaviano, “for I have not set the Courtier above the prince, nor do I think I have fallen into any errour touching the aim of Courtiership.”

Then the Magnifico Giuliano replied:

“You cannot say, my lord Ottaviano, that the cause which gives a certain quality to a result, does not always have more of that quality than its result has. Thus the Courtier, through whose instruction the prince is to become so excellent, must needs be more excellent than his prince; and in this way he will also be of greater dignity than the prince himself, which is most unseemly.

“Then, as for the aim of Courtiership, what you said may be true when the prince’s age is little different from the Courtier’s, but still not without difficulty, for where there is small difference in age, it is natural that there should be small difference in knowledge also; while if the prince is old and the Courtier young, it is fitting that the old prince should know more than the young Courtier; and if this does not always happen, it happens sometimes, and then the goal which you set the Courtier is impossible. Again, if the prince is young and the Courtier old, the Courtier can hardly win the prince’s mind by means of those accomplishments that you have ascribed to him. For to say the truth, jousting and other exercises of the person belong to young men and do not befit old men, and music and dancing and festivals and games and love-making are ridiculous in old age; and methinks they would be very ill-befitting a director of the prince’s life and behaviour, who ought to be a very sober person of authority, mature in years and experience, and (if possible) a good philosopher, a good commander, and ought to know almost everything.

“Therefore I think that whoever instructs the prince ought not to be called a Courtier, but deserves a far higher and more honoured name. So pardon me, my lord Ottaviano, if I have exposed your fallacy; for methinks I am bound to do so for the honour of my Lady, whom you, forsooth, would have of less dignity than this Courtier of yours, and I will not allow it.”

45.—My lord Ottaviano laughed, and said:

“My lord Magnifico, it would be more praise to the Court Lady to exalt her until she equalled the Courtier, than to abase the Courtier until he equalled the Court Lady; for it would be by no means forbidden the Lady to teach the mistress also, and with her to tend towards that aim of Courtiership which I said befits the Courtier with the prince. But you seek more to censure the Courtier than to praise the Court Lady; hence I too shall be allowed to take the Courtier’s part.

“To reply, then, to your objections, I declare I did not say that the Courtier’s instruction ought to be the sole cause of making the prince such as we would have him. For if he were not by nature inclined and fitted to be so, all the Courtier’s care and reminders would be in vain: just as any good husbandman also would labour in vain if he were to set about cultivating barren sea-sand and sowing it with excellent seed, because such barrenness is natural in that place; but when to good seed in fertile soil, and to mildness of climate and rains suited to the season, there is added also the diligence of human culture, very abundant crops are always found to spring up plenteously. Nor is it on that account true that the husbandman alone is the cause of this, although without him all the other things would avail little or nothing. Thus there are many princes who would be good if their minds were rightly cultivated; and it is of these that I am speaking, not of those who are like barren ground, and by nature so alien to good behaviour that no training avails to lead their minds in the straight path.

46.—“And since, as we have already said, our habits are what our actions make them, and virtue consists in action, it is not impossible or marvellous that the Courtier should turn the prince to many virtues, like justice, generosity, magnanimity, the practice whereof the prince by his greatness can easily put in use and convert into habit; which the Courtier cannot do, because he has not the means to practise them; and thus the prince, allured to virtue by the Courtier, may become more virtuous than the Courtier. Moreover you must know that the whetstone, although it cuts nothing, yet makes iron sharp. Hence it seems to me that although the Courtier instructs the prince, he need not on that account be said to be of more dignity than the prince.

“That the aim of this Courtiership is difficult and sometimes impossible, and that even when the Courtier attains it, he ought not to be called a Courtier, but deserves a greater name,—I say that I do not deny this difficulty, since it is not less difficult to find so excellent a Courtier than to attain such an end. Yet methinks there is no impossibility, even in the case that you cited: for if the Courtier is too young to know that which we have said he ought to know, we need not speak of him, since he is not the Courtier we are presupposing, nor is it possible that one who has to know so many things should be very young.

“And if, indeed, the prince shall chance to be so wise and good by nature that he has no need of precepts and counsel from others (although everyone knows how difficult this is), it will be enough for the Courtier to be such a man as could make the prince virtuous if he had need of it. And then the Courtier will be at least able to perform the other part of his duty,—not to allow his prince to be deceived, always to make known the truth about everything, and to set himself against flatterers and slanderers and all those who plot to debase his prince’s mind with unworthy pleasures. And in this way he will also attain his end in great part, although he cannot put everything in practice: which will not be a reason for finding fault with him, since he refrains therefrom for so good a cause. For if an excellent physician were to find himself in a place where everyone was in health, it would not for that reason be right to say that this physician failed in his aim, although he healed no sick. Thus, just as the physician’s aim ought to be men’s health, so the Courtier’s ought to be his prince’s virtue; and it is enough for them both to have their aim latent within their power, if their failure to attain it openly in acts arises from the subject to which the aim is directed.

“But if the Courtier were so old that it would not become him to practise music, festivals, games, arms, and the other personal accomplishments, still we cannot say that it is impossible for him to win his prince’s favour by that road. For if his age prevents his practising those things, it does not prevent his understanding them, and if he has practised them in his youth, it does not prevent his having the more perfect judgment regarding them, and his knowing the more perfectly how to teach them to his prince, in proportion as years and experience bring more knowledge of everything. Thus, although the old Courtier does not practise the accomplishments ascribed to him, he will yet attain his aim of instructing his prince rightly.

47.—“And if you are unwilling to call him Courtier, it does not trouble me; for nature has not set such limit upon human dignities that a man may not mount from one to another. Thus, common soldiers often become captains; private persons, kings; and priests, popes; and pupils, masters; and thus, together with the dignity, they acquire the name also. Hence perhaps we might say that to become his prince’s instructor was the Courtier’s aim. However, I do not know who would refuse this name of perfect Courtier, which in my opinion is worthy of very great praise. And it seems to me that just as Homer described two most excellent men as patterns of human life,—the one in deeds (which was Achilles), the other in sufferings and endurance (which was Ulysses),—so also he described a perfect Courtier (which was Phœnix), who, after narrating his loves and many other youthful affairs, says that he was sent to Achilles by the latter’s father, Peleus, as a companion and to teach the youth how to speak and act: which is naught else but the aim which we have marked out for our Courtier.[466]

“Nor do I think that Aristotle and Plato would have scorned the name of perfect Courtier, for we clearly see that they performed the works of Courtiership and wrought to this end,—the one with Alexander the Great, the other with the kings of Sicily. And since the office of a good Courtier is to know the prince’s character and inclinations, and thus to enter tactfully into his favour according to need and opportunity, as we have said, by those ways that afford safe access, and then to lead him towards virtue,—Aristotle so well knew the character of Alexander, and tactfully fostered it so well, that he was loved and honoured more than a father by Alexander.[467] Thus, among many other tokens that Alexander gave him of good will, the king ordered the rebuilding of his native city, Stagira, which had been destroyed;[468] and besides directing Alexander to that most glorious aim,—which was the desire to make the world as one single universal country, and all men as a single people to live in amity and mutual concord under a single government and a single law, which should shine equally on all like the light of the sun,[469]—Aristotle so instructed him in the natural sciences and in the virtues of the mind as to make him most wise, brave, continent, and a true moral philosopher, not only in words but in deeds; for a nobler philosophy cannot be imagined than to bring into civilized living such savage people as those who inhabited Bactria and Caucasia, India, Scythia;[470] and to teach them marriage, agriculture, honour to their fathers, abstention from rapine, murder and other evil ways; to build so many very noble cities in distant lands;—so that countless men were by his laws reduced from savage life to civilization. And of these achievements of Alexander the author was Aristotle, using the means of a good Courtier: which Callisthenes knew not how to do, although Aristotle showed him;[471] for in his wish to be a pure philosopher and austere minister of naked truth, without mingling Courtiership therewith, he lost his life and brought not help but rather infamy to Alexander.

“By these same means of Courtiership, Plato schooled Dio of Syracuse;[472] and having afterwards found the tyrant Dionysius like a book all full of faults and errours and in need of complete erasure rather than of any change or correction (since it was not possible to remove from him that tinge of tyranny wherewith he had so long been stained), Plato was unwilling to practise the ways of Courtiership upon him, thinking that they all would surely be in vain. Which our Courtier also ought to do, if by chance he finds himself in the service of a prince of so evil a disposition as to be inveterate in vice, like consumptives in their malady; for in such case he ought to escape that bondage, in order not to receive blame for his lord’s evil deeds, and in order not to feel that distress which all good men feel who serve the wicked.”

48.—Here my lord Ottaviano having ceased speaking, my lord Gaspar said:

“I did not in the least suspect that our Courtier was so honoured; but since Aristotle and Plato are his fellows, I think that no one ought henceforth to scorn this name. Still I am far from sure whether I believe that Aristotle and Plato ever danced or made music in their lives, or performed any other acts of chivalry.”

My lord Ottaviano replied:

“It is hardly permitted to think that these two divine spirits did not know everything, and hence we may believe that they practised what pertains to Courtiership, for on occasion they write of it in such fashion that the very masters of the subjects written of by them perceive that they understood the same to the marrow and deepest roots. Wherefore there is no ground for saying that all the accomplishments ascribed to him by these gentlemen do not befit a Courtier (or instructor of the prince, as you like to call him) who contributes to that good end which we have mentioned, even though he were a very stern philosopher and most saintly in his behaviour, because they are not at variance with goodness, discretion, wisdom, worth, at every age and in every time and place.”

49.—Then my lord Gaspar said:

“I remember that in discussing the accomplishments of the Courtier last evening, these gentlemen desired that he should be in love; and since, by reviewing what has thus far been said, we might conclude that a Courtier who has to allure his prince to virtue by his worth and authority, must almost of necessity be old (because knowledge very rarely comes before years, and especially in those things that are learned by experience),—I do not know how becoming it is for him (being advanced in age) to be in love. For as has been said this evening, love does not sit well upon old men, and those things which in young men are delights, courtesies and elegances very pleasing to women, in old men are extravagances and ridiculous incongruities, and for him who practises them win hatred from women and derision from others.

“So if your friend Aristotle, the old Courtier, were in love, and did those things which young lovers do, like some whom we have seen in our days,—I fear he would forget to instruct his prince, and perhaps children would mock at him behind his back, and women would get little pleasure from him except to deride him.”

Then my lord Ottaviano said:

“As all the other accomplishments ascribed to the Courtier befit him although he be old, methinks we ought by no means to deprive him of this enjoyment of loving.”

“Nay,” said my lord Gaspar, “to deprive him of love is to give him an added perfection, and to make him live at ease remote from misery and calamity.”

50.—Messer Pietro Bembo said:

“Do you not remember, my lord Gaspar, that although he is little skilled in love, yet in his game the other evening my lord Ottaviano seemed to know that there are some lovers who call sweet the scorns and ires and warrings and torments which they have from their ladies; whence he asked to be taught the cause of this sweetness? Therefore if our Courtier, although old, were inflamed with those loves that are sweet without bitterness, he would feel no calamity or misery in them; and if he were wise, as we suppose him to be, he would not deceive himself by thinking that all was befitting to him which befits young men; but if he loved, perhaps he would love in a way that would bring him not only no blame, but much praise and highest happiness unaccompanied by any pain, which rarely and almost never happens with young men; and thus he would not fail to instruct his prince, nor would he do aught to deserve the mockery of children.”

Then my lady Duchess said:

“I am glad, messer Pietro, that you have had little fatigue in our discussion this evening, for now we shall with more assurance impose on you the burden of speaking, and of teaching the Courtier this love which is so happy that it brings with it neither blame nor discomfort; for perhaps it will be one of the most important and useful attributes that have thus far been ascribed to him: therefore tell us, on your faith, all you know about it.”

Messer Pietro laughed, and said:

“I should be sorry, my Lady, that my saying it is permissible for old men to love should be a reason for these ladies to regard me as old; therefore please to give this task to someone else.”[473]

My lady Duchess replied:

“You ought not to shun being reputed old in wisdom, even if you are young in years; so speak on, and make no more excuse.”

Messer Pietro said:

“Indeed, my Lady, if I must talk about this matter, I should need to go take counsel with my Lavinello’s Hermit.”[474]

Then my lady Emilia said, half vexed:

“Messer Pietro, there is no one in the company who is more disobedient than you; therefore it will be well for my lady Duchess to inflict some chastisement upon you.”

Messer Pietro said, again smiling:

“Be not angry with me, my Lady, for love of God; for I will tell what you wish.”

“Then tell it at once,” replied my lady Emilia.

51.—Whereupon messer Pietro, having first remained silent awhile, then settled himself a little as if about to speak of something important, and spoke thus:[475]

“My Lords, in order to prove that old men can love not only without blame but sometimes more happily than young men, it will be needful for me to make a little discourse to explain what love is, and in what consists the happiness that lovers may enjoy. So I pray you hear me with attention, for I hope to make you see that there is no man here whom it does not become to be in love, even though he were fifteen or twenty years older than my lord Morello.”

And then after some laughter, messer Pietro continued:

“I say, then, that according to the definition of the ancient sages love is naught but a certain desire to enjoy beauty; and as desire longs only for things that are perceived, perception must needs always precede desire, which by its nature wishes good things, but in itself is blind and does not perceive them. Therefore nature has so ordained that to every faculty of perception there is joined a certain faculty of appetite; and since in our soul there are three modes of perceiving, that is, by sense, by reason, and by intellect: from sense springs appetite, which we have in common with the brutes; from reason springs choice, which is peculiar to man; from the intellect, by which man is able to commune with the angels, springs will. Thus, just as sense perceives only things that are perceptible by the senses, appetite desires the same only; and just as intellect is directed solely to the contemplation of things intellectual, the will feeds only upon spiritual benefits. Being by nature rational and placed as a mean between these two extremes, man is able at will (by descending to sense or mounting to intellect) to turn his desires now in the one direction and now in the other. In these two ways, therefore, it is possible to desire beauty, which universal name applies to all things (whether natural or artificial) that are framed in good proportion and due measure according to their nature.

[Illustration:

PIETRO BEMBO 1470-1547 ]

Much enlarged from a photographic print of a medal in the King’s Library, British Museum. This is probably the medal for which Benvenuto Cellini (1500-1572), in his autobiography, describes making a sketch from life in 1537. See Émile Molinier’s monograph on Cellini in the series, _Les Artistes Célèbres_, published at Paris by the _Librairie de l'Art_, p. 33; and Armand’s _Les Médailleurs Italiens_, i, 150.

52.—“But speaking of the beauty we have in mind, which is only that which is seen in the bodies and especially in the faces of men, and which excites this ardent desire that we call love,—we will say that it is an effluence of divine goodness, and that although it is diffused like the sun’s light upon all created things, yet when it finds a face well proportioned and framed with a certain pleasant harmony of various colours embellished by lights and shadows and by an orderly distance and limit of outlines, it infuses itself therein and appears most beautiful, and adorns and illumines that object whereon it shines with grace and wonderful splendour, like a sunbeam falling upon a beautiful vase of polished gold set with precious gems. Thus it agreeably attracts the eyes of men, and entering thereby, it impresses itself upon the soul, and stirs and delights her with a new sweetness throughout, and by kindling her it excites in her a desire for its own self.

“Then, being seized with desire to enjoy this beauty as something good, if the soul allows herself to be guided by the judgment of sense, she runs into very grievous errours, and judges that the body wherein the beauty is seen is the chief cause thereof; and hence, in order to enjoy that beauty, she deems it necessary to join herself as closely to that body as she can; which is false: and accordingly, whoever thinks to enjoy the beauty by possessing the body deceives himself, and is moved, not by true perception through reasonable choice, but by false opinion through sensual appetite: wherefore the pleasure also that results therefrom is necessarily false and vicious.

“Hence all those lovers who satisfy their unchaste desires with the women whom they love, run into one of two errours: for as soon as they have attained the end desired, they either not only feel satiety and tedium, but hate the beloved object as if appetite repented its errour and perceived the deceit practised upon it by the false judgment of sense, which made it believe evil to be good; or else they remain in the same desire and longing, like those who have not truly attained the end they sought. And although, by reason of the blind opinion wherewith they are intoxicated, they think they feel pleasure at the moment, as the sick sometimes dream of drinking at some clear spring, nevertheless they are not contented or appeased. And since the possession of a wished-for joy always brings quiet and satisfaction to the mind of the possessor, if that joy were the true and worthy object of their desire, they would remain quiet and satisfied in possessing it; which they do not. Nay, deceived by that likeness, they soon return to unbridled desire, and with the same distress they felt at first, they find themselves furiously and very ardently athirst for that which they vainly hope to possess perfectly.

“Such lovers as these, therefore, love most unhappily; for either they never attain their desires (which is great unhappiness), or if they do attain thereto, they find they have attained their woe, and finish their miseries with other miseries still greater; because even in the beginning and midst of their love naught else is ever felt but anguish, torments, sorrows, sufferings, toils. So that to be pale, melancholy, in continual tears and sighs, to be sad, to be ever silent or lamenting, to long for death, in short, to be most unhappy, are the conditions that are said to befit lovers.

53.—“The cause, then, of this havoc in the minds of men is chiefly sense, which is very potent in youth, because the vigour of flesh and blood at that period gives to it as much strength as it takes away from reason, and hence easily leads the soul to follow appetite. For, finding herself plunged into an earthly prison and deprived of spiritual contemplation by being set the task of governing the body, the soul cannot of herself clearly comprehend the truth; wherefore, in order to have perception of things, she must needs go begging first notions from the senses, and so she believes them and bows before them and allows herself to be guided by them, especially when they have so much vigour that they almost force her; and as they are fallacious, they fill her with errours and false opinions.

“Hence it nearly always happens that young men are wrapped in this love which is sensual and wholly rebellious to reason, and thus they become unworthy to enjoy the graces and benefits which love bestows upon its true subjects; nor do they feel any pleasures in love beyond those which the unreasoning animals feel, but anguish far more grievous.

“This premise being admitted then,—and it is most true,—I say that the contrary happens to those who are of maturer age. For if such as these (when the soul is already less weighed down by bodily heaviness and when the natural heat begins to become tepid) are inflamed by beauty and turn thereto a desire guided by rational choice,—they are not deceived, and possess beauty perfectly. Therefore their possession of it always brings them good; because beauty is good, and hence true love of beauty is most good and holy, and always works for good in the mind of those who restrain the perversity of sense with the bridle of reason; which the old can do much more easily than the young.

54.—“Hence it is not beyond reason to say further that the old can love without blame and more happily than the young; taking this word old, however, not in the sense of decrepit, nor when the bodily organs have already become so weak that the soul cannot perform its functions through them, but when our knowledge is at its true prime.

“I will not refrain from saying also this: which is, that I think that although sensual love is evil at every age, yet in the young it deserves excuse, and is perhaps in a measure permitted. For although it gives them anguish, dangers, toils, and those woes that have been told, still there are many who, to win the favour of the ladies of their love, do worthy acts, which (although not directed to a good end) are intrinsically good; and thus from that mass of bitterness they extract a little sweet, and through the adversities which they endure they at last perceive their errour. Hence, just as I deem those youths divine who control their appetites and love in reason, so I excuse those who allow themselves to be overcome by sensual love, to which they are so strongly inclined by human frailty: provided they show therein gentleness, courtesy and worth, and the other noble qualities of which these gentlemen have told; and provided that when they are no longer of youthful age, they abandon it altogether, shunning this sensual desire as it were the lowest round of the ladder by which true love can be attained. But if, even after they are old, they preserve the fire of appetite in their chill heart and subject stout reason to frail sense, it is not possible to say how much they are to be blamed. For like fools they deserve to be numbered with perpetual infamy among the unreasoning animals, since the thoughts and ways of sensual love are too unbecoming to mature age.”

55.—Here Bembo paused a little, as if to rest; and as everyone remained silent, my lord Morello da Ortona said:

“And if an old man were found more vigourous and sturdy and of better looks than many youths, why would you not have him allowed to love with that love wherewith young men love?”

My lady Duchess laughed, and said:

“If young men’s love is so unhappy, my lord Morello, why do you wish to have old men love thus unhappily also? But if you were old, as these gentlemen say, you would not thus contrive evil for old men.”

My lord Morello replied:

“Methinks it is messer Pietro Bembo who is contriving evil for old men, in that he wishes to have them love in a certain way which I for my part do not understand; and methinks that to possess this beauty which he so highly praises, without the body, is a dream.”

Then Count Ludovico said:

“Do you believe, my lord Morello, that beauty is always as good as messer Pietro Bembo says?”

“Not I indeed,” replied my lord Morello; “nay, I remember having seen many beautiful women who were very bad, cruel and spiteful; and this seems to be almost always so, for beauty makes them proud, and pride makes them cruel.”

Count Ludovico said, laughing:

“To you, perhaps, they seem cruel because they do not grant you what you would have; but have yourself taught by messer Pietro Bembo in what way old men ought to desire beauty, and what they ought to seek from women, and with what they ought to be content; and if you do not exceed these limits, you shall see that they will not be either proud or cruel, and will grant you what you wish.”

Then my lord Morello seemed a little vexed, and said:

“I have no wish to know what does not concern me; but do you have yourself taught how this beauty ought to be desired by young men who are less vigourous and sturdy than their elders.”

56.—Here messer Federico, to quiet my lord Morello and turn the conversation, did not allow Count Ludovico to reply, but interrupted him and said:

“Perhaps my lord Morello is not altogether wrong in saying that beauty is not always good; for women’s beauty is often the cause that brings upon the world countless evils, hatreds, wars, deaths and destructions; of which good proof can be found in the fall of Troy. And beautiful women are for the most part either proud or cruel, or (as has been said) immodest; but this would not seem to my lord Morello a fault. There are also many wicked men who have the gift of fair looks, and it seems that nature made them thus to the end that they should be better fitted to deceive, and that this gracious seeming is like the bait upon the hook.”

Then messer Pietro Bembo said:

“Do not believe that beauty is not always good.”

Here Count Ludovico, in order to return to the original subject, interrupted and said:

“Since my lord Morello does not care to know what so deeply concerns him, teach it to me, and show me how old men attain this happiness in love, for I shall not mind having myself thought old, provided it help me.”

57.—Messer Pietro laughed, and said:

“I wish first to free these gentlemen’s minds from their errour; then I will satisfy you too.” Resuming thus, he said:

“My Lords, I would not have any of us, like profane and sacrilegious men, incur God’s wrath by speaking ill of beauty, which is a sacred thing. Therefore, to the end that my lord Morello and messer Federico may be warned, and not lose their sight, like Stesichorus (which is a very fitting punishment for one who scorns beauty),[476] I say that beauty springs from God, and is like a circle of which goodness is the centre. And hence, as there can be no circle without a centre, there can be no beauty without goodness. Thus a wicked soul rarely inhabits a beautiful body, and for that reason outward beauty is a true sign of inward goodness. And this grace is impressed upon bodies, more or less, as an index of the soul, whereby she is known outwardly, as in the case of trees, in which the beauty of the blossom gives token of the excellence of the fruit. The same is true in the case of human bodies, as we see that the Physiognomists often recognize in the face the character and sometimes the thoughts of men; and what is more, in beasts also we discern from the aspect the quality of the mind, which is expressed as much as possible in the body. Think how clearly we read anger, ferocity and pride in the face of the lion, the horse, the eagle; a pure and simple innocence in lambs and doves; cunning malice in foxes and wolves, and so of nearly all other animals.

58.—“The ugly are therefore for the most part wicked too, and the beautiful are good: and we may say that beauty is the pleasant, gay, acceptable and desirable face of good, and that ugliness is the dark, disagreeable, unpleasant and sad face of evil. And if you will consider all things, you will find that those which are good and useful always have a charm of beauty also.

“Look at the state of this great fabric of the world, which was made by God for the health and preservation of every created thing. The round firmament, adorned with so many heavenly lights, and the earth in the centre, surrounded by the elements and sustained by its own weight; the sun, which in its revolving illumines the whole, and in winter approaches the lowest sign, then little by little mounts to the other side; the moon, which derives her light from it, according as it approaches her or withdraws from her; and the five other stars, which separately travel the same course.[477] These things have such influence upon one another through the linking of an order thus precisely framed, that if they were changed for an instant, they could not hold together, and would wreck the world; they have also such beauty and grace that human wit cannot imagine anything more beautiful.

“Think now of the shape of man, which may be called a little world; wherein we see every part of the body precisely composed with skill, and not by chance; and then the whole form together so beautiful that we could hardly decide whether more utility or more grace is given to the human features and the rest of the body by all the members, such as the eyes, nose, mouth, ears, arms, breast, and other parts withal. The same can be said of all the animals. Look at the feathers of birds, the leaves and branches of trees, which are given them by nature to preserve their being, and yet have also very great loveliness.

“Leave nature, and come to art. What thing is so necessary in ships as the prow, the sides, the yards, the masts, the sails, the helm, the oars, the anchors and the cordage? Yet all these things have so much comeliness, that it seems to him who looks upon them that they are thus devised as much for beauty as for use. Columns and architraves support lofty galleries and palaces, yet they are not on that account less pleasing to the eyes of him who looks upon them, than useful to the buildings. When men first began to build, they set that middle ridge in their temples and houses, not in order that the buildings might have more grace, but to the end that the water might flow off conveniently on either side; yet to utility soon was added comeliness, so that if a temple were built under a sky where no hail or rain falls, it would not seem able to have any dignity or beauty without the ridge.

59.—“Much praise is therefore bestowed, not only upon other things, but upon the world, by saying that it is beautiful. We praise when we say: ‘Beautiful sky, beautiful earth, beautiful sea, beautiful rivers, beautiful lands, beautiful woods, trees, gardens; beautiful cities, beautiful churches, houses, armies.’ In short, this gracious and sacred beauty gives highest ornament to everything; and we may say that the good and the beautiful are in a way one and the same thing, and especially in the human body; of whose beauty I think the most immediate cause is beauty of the soul, which (as partaker of true divine beauty) brightens and beautifies whatever it touches, and especially if the body wherein it dwells is not of such base material that it cannot impress thereon its quality. Therefore beauty is the true trophy of the soul’s victory, when with power divine she holds sway over material nature, and by her light overcomes the darkness of the body.

“Hence we must not say that beauty makes women proud or cruel, although it may seem so to my lord Morello; nor yet ought we to ascribe to beautiful women those enmities, deaths and destructions of which the immoderate appetites of men are the cause. I do not by any means deny that it is possible to find beautiful women in the world who are also immodest, but it is not at all because their beauty inclines them to immodesty; nay, it turns them therefrom and leads them to the path of virtuous behaviour, by the connection that beauty has with goodness. But sometimes evil training, the continual urgence of their lovers, gifts, poverty, hope, deceits, fear and a thousand other causes, overcome the steadfastness even of beautiful and good women; and through these or similar causes beautiful men also may become wicked.”

60.—Then messer Cesare said:

“If that is true which my lord Gaspar alleged yesterday, there is no doubt that beautiful women are more chaste than ugly women.”

“And what did I allege?” said my lord Gaspar.

Messer Cesare replied:

“If I remember rightly, you said that women who are wooed always refuse to satisfy him who wooes them, and that those who are not wooed woo others. Certain it is that the beautiful are always more wooed and besought in love than are the ugly; therefore the beautiful always refuse, and hence are more chaste than the ugly, who, not being wooed, woo others.”

Bembo laughed, and said:

“To this argument no answer can be made.” Then he added: “It often happens also that our sight deceives us like our other senses, and accounts a face beautiful which in truth is not beautiful; and since in some women’s eyes and whole aspect a certain wantonness is seen depicted, together with unseemly blandishments,—many (who like such manner because it promises them ease in attaining what they desire) call it beauty: but in truth it is disguised immodesty, unworthy a name so honoured and so sacred.”

Messer Pietro Bembo was silent, and those gentlemen still urged him to speak further of this love and of the mode of enjoying beauty truly; and he at last said:

“Methinks I have shown clearly enough that old men can love more happily than young, which was my thesis; therefore it does not become me to go further.”

Count Ludovico replied:

“You have better shown the unhappiness of youths than the happiness of old men, whom as yet you have not taught what road to follow in this love of theirs, but have only told them to be guided by reason; and by many it is thought impossible for love to abide with reason.”

61.—Bembo still sought to put an end to his discourse, but my lady Duchess begged him to speak; and he began anew thus:

“Too unhappy would human nature be, if our soul (wherein such ardent desire can spring up easily) were forced to feed it solely upon that which is common to her with the beasts, and could not direct it to that other nobler part which is peculiar to herself. Therefore, since so indeed it pleases you, I have no wish to avoid discoursing upon this noble subject. And as I feel myself unworthy to speak of Love’s most sacred mysteries, I pray him so to inspire my thought and tongue that I may be able to show this excellent Courtier how to love beyond the manner of the vulgar crowd; and since from boyhood up I have dedicated my whole life to him, so now also may my words comport with this intent and with his praise.

“I say, then, that as in youth human nature is so greatly prone to sense, the Courtier may be allowed to love sensually while he is young. But if afterwards in maturer years he chances still to be kindled with this amourous desire, he must be very wary and take care not to deceive himself by allowing himself to be led into those calamities which in the young merit more compassion than blame, and, on the contrary, in the old more blame than compassion.

62.—“Therefore when the gracious aspect of some fair woman meets his view, accompanied with such sweet behaviour and gentle manners that he, as an adept in love, feels that his spirit accords with hers: as soon as he finds that his eyes lay hold upon her image and carry it to his heart; and that his soul begins to contemplate her with pleasure and to feel that influence within which stirs and warms it little by little; and that those quick spirits which shine out through the eyes continually add fresh tinder to the fire;—he ought at this first stage to provide a speedy cure, and arouse his reason, and therewith arm the fortress of his heart, and so shut the way to sense and appetite that they cannot enter there by force or trickery. Thus, if the flame is extinguished, the danger is extinguished also; but if it survives or grows, then the Courtier, feeling himself caught, must resolve on shunning wholly every stain of vulgar love, and thus enter on the path of divine love, with reason for guide. And first he must consider that the body wherein this beauty shines is not the fountain whence it springs, but rather that beauty (being an incorporeal thing and, as we have said, a heavenly beam) loses much of its dignity when it finds itself joined to vile and corruptible matter; for the more perfect it is the less it partakes thereof, and is most perfect when wholly separate therefrom. And he must consider that just as one cannot hear with the palate or smell with the ears, so too can beauty in no wise be enjoyed, nor can the desire which it excites in our minds be satisfied, by means of touch, but by that sense of which this beauty is the very object, namely, the power of vision.

“Therefore let him shun the blind judgment of sense, and with his eyes enjoy the splendour of his lady, her grace, her amourous sparkle, the laughs, the ways and all the other pleasant ornaments of her beauty. Likewise with his hearing let him enjoy the sweetness of her voice, the concord of her words, the harmony of her music (if his beloved be a musician). Thus will he feed his soul on sweetest food by means of these two senses—which have little of the corporeal and are ministers of reason—without passing in his desire for the body to any appetite less than seemly.

“Next let him obey, please and honour his lady with all reverence, and hold her dearer than himself, and prefer her convenience and pleasures to his own, and love in her not less the beauty of mind than that of body. Therefore let him take care not to leave her to fall into any kind of errour, but by admonition and good advice let him always seek to lead her on to modesty, to temperance, to true chastity, and see to it that no thoughts find place in her except those that are pure and free from every stain of vice; and by thus sowing virtue in the garden of her fair mind, he will gather fruits of fairest behaviour too, and will taste them with wonderful delight. And this will be the true engendering and manifesting of beauty in beauty, which by some is said to be the end of love.

“In such fashion will our Courtier be most acceptable to his lady, and she will always show herself obedient, sweet and affable to him, and as desirous of pleasing him as of being loved by him; and the wishes of both will be most virtuous and harmonious, and they themselves will thus be very happy.”

63.—Here my lord Morello said:

“To engender beauty in beauty, forsooth, would be to beget a beautiful child in a beautiful woman; and pleasing him in this would seem to me a much clearer token that she loved her lover than treating him with the affability of which you speak.”

Bembo laughed, and said:

“You must not go beyond bounds, my lord Morello; nor does a woman give small token of her love when she gives her lover her beauty, which is so precious a thing, and by the ways that are the avenues to her soul (that is, sight and hearing) sends the glances of her eyes, the image of her face, her voice, her words, which strike home to the lover’s heart and give him proof of her love.”

My lord Morello said:

“Glances and words may be, and often are, false proofs; therefore he who has no better pledge of love is, in my judgment, far from sure; and truly I quite expected you to make this lady of yours a little more courteous and generous to the Courtier than my lord Magnifico made his; but methinks that both of you are in like case with those judges who pronounce sentence against their friends for the sake of appearing wise.”

64.—Bembo said:

“I am very willing that this lady should be much more courteous to my unyouthful Courtier, than my lord Magnifico’s is to the youthful Courtier; and with reason, for my Courtier will desire only seemly things, and therefore the lady can grant him all of them without blame; while my lord Magnifico’s lady, who is not so sure of the youthful Courtier’s modesty, ought to grant him only seemly things, and to refuse him the unseemly. Hence my Courtier, to whom is granted what he asks, is more happy than the other, to whom part is granted and part refused.

“And to the end that you may still better understand that rational love is happier than sensual, I say that the same things ought sometimes to be refused in sensual love and granted in rational love, because they are unseemly in the one and seemly in the other. Thus, to please her worthy lover, besides granting him pleasant smiles, familiar and secret discourse, and leave to joke and jest with her and to touch her hand, the lady may in reason even go so far as kissing without blame, which is not permitted in sensual love according to my lord Magnifico’s rules. For since the kiss is the union of body and soul, there is danger lest the sensual lover incline more in the direction of the body than in that of the soul; while the rational lover perceives that although the mouth is part of the body, yet it gives issue to words, which are interpreters of the soul, and to that inward breath which is itself even called soul. Hence a man delights to join his mouth to that of his beloved in a kiss, not in order to arouse any unseemly desire in him, but because he feels that bond to be the opening of a passage between their souls, which, being each drawn by desire for the other, pour themselves each into the other’s body by turn, and so commingle that each has two souls, and a single soul (thus composed of these two) rules as it were over two bodies. Hence the kiss may be oftener said to be a joining of soul than of body, because it has such power over the soul that it draws her to itself and separates her from the body. On this account all chaste lovers desire to kiss as a joining of the soul; and thus the divinely enamoured Plato says that in kissing the soul came to his lips to escape his body. And since the separation of the soul from things material, and its complete union with things spiritual, may be denoted by the kiss, Solomon, in his divine book of the Song, says: ‘Let him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth,’ to express desire that his soul might be so transported with divine love to the contemplation of celestial beauty, that by joining closely therewith she might forsake the body.”

65.—Everyone gave closest heed to Bembo’s discourse; and he, having made a little pause and seeing that no one else spoke, said:

“As you have made me begin to teach our unyouthful Courtier happy love, I fain would lead him a little farther; for it is very dangerous to stop at this stage, seeing that the soul is very prone to the senses, as has many times been said; and although reason and argument choose well and perceive that beauty does not spring from the body, and although they therefore put a bridle upon unseemly desires, still, always contemplating beauty in the body often perverts sound judgment. And even if no other evil flowed therefrom, absence from the beloved object brings much suffering with it, because the influence of her beauty gives the lover wonderful delight when she is present, and by warming his heart wakens and melts certain dormant and frozen forces in his soul, which (being nourished by the warmth of love) spread and blossom about his heart, and send forth through the eyes those spirits that are very subtle vapours made of the purest and brightest part of the blood, which receive the image of her beauty and fashion it with a thousand various ornaments. Hence the soul delights, and trembles with awe and yet rejoices, and as in a stupour feels not only pleasure, but that fear and reverence which we are wont to have for sacred things, and speaks of being in paradise.

66.—“Therefore the lover who considers beauty in the body only, loses this blessing and felicity as soon as his beloved lady by her absence leaves his eyes without their splendour, and his soul consequently widowed of its blessing. Because, her beauty being far away, that amourous influence does not warm his heart as it did in her presence; wherefore his pores become arid and dry, and still the memory of her beauty stirs a little those forces of his soul, so that they seek to scatter abroad the spirits; and these, finding the ways shut, have no exit, and yet seek to issue forth; and thus hemmed in by those goads, they sting the soul and give it keenest suffering, as in the case of children when the teeth begin to come through the tender gums. And from this proceed the tears, the sighs, the anguish and the torments of lovers, because the soul is ever in affliction and travail, and becomes almost raging until her dear beauty appears to it again; and then it suddenly is calmed and breathes, and all intent upon that beauty it feeds on sweetest food, nor would ever part from so delightful a spectacle.

“Hence, to escape the torment of this absence and to enjoy beauty without suffering, there is need that the Courtier should, with the aid of reason, wholly turn his desire from the body to the beauty alone, and contemplate it in itself simple and pure, as far as he can, and fashion it in his imagination apart from all matter; and thus make it lovely and dear to his soul, and enjoy it there, and have it with him day and night, in every time and place, without fear of ever losing it; bearing always in mind that the body is something very different from beauty, and not only does not enhance it, but diminishes its perfection.

“In this wise will our unyouthful Courtier be beyond all the bitterness and calamities that the young nearly always feel: such as jealousies, suspicions, disdainings, angers, despairings, and certain furies full of madness whereby they are often led into such errour that some of them not only beat the women whom they love, but deprive themselves of life. He will do no injury to the husband, father, brothers or kinsfolk of his beloved lady; he will put no infamy upon her; he will never be forced to bridle his eyes and tongue with such difficulty in order not to disclose his desires to others, or to endure suffering at partings or absences;—because he will always carry his precious treasure with him shut up in his heart, and also by force of his imagination he will inwardly fashion her beauty much more beautiful than in fact it is.

67.—“But besides these blessings the lover will find another much greater still, if he will employ this love as a step to mount to one much higher; which he will succeed in doing if he continually considers within himself how narrow a restraint it is to be always occupied in contemplating the beauty of one body only; and therefore, in order to escape such close bounds as these, in his thought he will little by little add so many ornaments, that by heaping all beauties together he will form an universal concept, and will reduce the multitude of these beauties to the unity of that single beauty which is spread over human nature at large. In this way he will no longer contemplate the

## particular beauty of one woman, but that universal beauty which adorns

all bodies; and thus, bewildered by this greater light, he will not heed the lesser, and glowing with a purer flame, he will esteem lightly that which at first he so greatly prized.

“This stage of love, although it be very noble and such as few attain, still cannot be called perfect; for since the imagination is merely a corporeal faculty and has no perception except through those means that are furnished it by the senses, it is not wholly purged of material darkness; and hence, although it considers this universal beauty in the abstract and intrinsically, yet it does not discern that beauty very clearly or without some ambiguity, because of the likeness which phantoms bear to substance. Thus those who attain this love are like tender birds beginning to put on feathers, which, although with their frail wings they lift themselves a little in flight, yet dare not go far from their nest or trust themselves to the winds and open sky.

68.—“Therefore when our Courtier shall have reached this goal, although he may be called a very happy lover by comparison with those who are plunged in the misery of sensual love, still I would have him not rest content, but press boldly on following along the lofty path after the guide who leads him to the goal of true felicity. And thus, instead of going outside himself in thought (as all must needs do who choose to contemplate bodily beauty only), let him have recourse to himself, in order to contemplate that beauty which is seen by the eyes of the mind, which begin to be sharp and clear when those of the body lose the flower of their loveliness. Then the soul,—freed from vice, purged by studies of true philosophy, versed in spiritual life, and practised in matters of the intellect, devoted to the contemplation of her own substance,—as if awakened from deepest sleep, opens those eyes which all possess but few use, and sees in herself a ray of that light which is the true image of the angelic beauty communicated to her, and of which she then communicates a faint shadow to the body. Grown blind to things earthly, the soul thus becomes very keen-sighted to things heavenly; and sometimes, when the motive forces of the body are absorbed by earnest contemplation or fettered by sleep, being unhampered by them, she is conscious of a certain far-off perfume of true angelic beauty, and ravished by the splendour of that light, she begins to kindle and pursues it so eagerly that she almost becomes phrensied with desire to unite herself to that beauty, thinking that she has found God’s footstep, in the contemplation of which she seeks to rest as in her beatific end. And thus, glowing in this most happy flame, she rises to her noblest part, which is the intellect; and here, no longer darkened by the gloomy night of things earthly, she sees the divine beauty; but still she does not yet quite enjoy it perfectly, because she contemplates it in her own particular intellect only, which cannot be capable of the vast universal beauty.

“Wherefore, not well content with this boon, love gives the soul a greater felicity; for just as from the particular beauty of one body it guides her to the universal beauty of all bodies, so in the highest stage of perfection it guides her from the particular to the universal intellect. Hence the soul, kindled by the most sacred fire of true divine love, flies to unite herself with the angelic nature, and not only quite forsakes sense, but has no longer need of reason’s discourse; for, changed into an angel, she understands all things intelligible, and without veil or cloud views the wide sea of pure divine beauty, and receives it into herself, and enjoys that supreme felicity of which the senses are incapable.

69.—“If, then, the beauties which with these dim eyes of ours we daily see in corruptible bodies (but which are naught but dreams and faintest shadows of beauty) seem to us so fair and gracious that they often kindle most ardent fire in us, and of such delight that we deem no felicity able to equal that which we sometimes feel at a single glance coming to us from a woman’s beloved eyes,—what happy wonder, what blessed awe, shall we think is that which fills the souls that attain to the vision of divine beauty! What sweet flame, what delightful burning, must that be thought which springs from the fountain of supreme and true beauty!—which is the source of every other beauty, which never waxes nor wanes: ever fair, and of its own self most simple in every part alike; like only to itself, and partaking of none other; but fair in such wise that all other fair things are fair because they derive their beauty from it.

“This is that beauty identical with highest good, which by its light calls and attracts all things to itself, and not only gives intellect to the intellectual, reason to the rational, sense and desire for life to the sensual, but to plants also and to stones communicates motion and that natural instinct of their quality, as an imprint of itself.

“Therefore this love is as much greater and happier than the others, as the cause that moves it is more excellent; and hence, just as material fire refines gold, so does this most sacred fire in our souls destroy and consume that which is mortal there, and quickens and beautifies that celestial part which at first, by reason of the senses, was dead and buried in them. This is the Pyre whereon the poets write that Hercules was burned on the crest of Mount Œta, and by such burning became divine and immortal after death.[478] This is the Burning Bush of Moses, the Cloven Tongues of fire, the Fiery Chariot of Elias,[479] which doubles grace and felicity in the souls of those who are worthy to behold it, when they leave this earthly baseness and take flight towards heaven.

“Let us, then, direct all the thoughts and forces of our soul to this most sacred light, which shows us the way that leads to heaven; and following after it, let us lay aside the passions wherewith we were clothed at our fall, and by the stairway that bears the shadow of sensual beauty on its lowest step, let us mount to the lofty mansion where dwells the heavenly, lovely and true beauty, which lies hidden in the inmost secret recesses of God, so that profane eyes cannot behold it. Here we shall find a most happy end to our desires, true rest from our toil, certain cure for our miseries, most wholesome medicine for our diseases, safest refuge from the boisterous storms of this life’s tempestuous sea.

70.—“What mortal tongue, then, O most holy Love, can praise thee worthily? Most fair, most good, most wise, thou springest from the union of beauty and goodness and divine wisdom, and abidest in that union, and by that union returnest to that union as in a circle. Sweetest bond of the universe, joining things celestial to things terrestrial, thou with benignant sway inclinest the supernal powers to rule the lower powers, and turning the minds of mortals to their origin, joinest them thereto. Thou unitest the elements in concord, movest nature to produce—and that which is born, to the perpetuation of life. Thou unitest things that are separate, givest perfection to the imperfect, likeness to the unlike, friendship to the unfriendly, fruit to the earth, tranquillity to the sea, vital light to the heavens.

“Thou art father of true pleasure, of grace, of peace, of gentleness and good will, enemy to rustic savagery and sloth—in short, the beginning and the end of every good. And since thou delightest to inhabit the flower of beautiful bodies and beautiful souls, and thence sometimes to display thyself a little to the eyes and minds of those who are worthy to behold thee, methinks that now thy abode is here among us.

“Deign, then, O Lord, to hear our prayers, pour thyself upon our hearts, and with the splendour of thy most holy fire illumine our darkness and, like a trusted guide, in this blind labyrinth show us the true path. Correct the falseness of our senses, and after our long pursuit of vanities give us true and solid good; make us to inhale those spiritual odours that quicken the powers of the intellect, and to hear the celestial harmony with such accord that there may no longer be room in us for any discord of passion; fill us at that inexhaustible fountain of content which ever delights and never satiates, and gives a taste of true beatitude to all who drink of its living and limpid waters; with the beams of thy light purge our eyes of misty ignorance, to the end that they may no longer prize mortal beauty, and may know that the things which first they seemed to see, are not, and that those which they saw not, really are.

“Accept our souls, which are offered thee in sacrifice; burn them in that living flame which consumes all mortal dross, to the end that, being wholly separated from the body, they may unite with divine beauty by a perpetual and very sweet bond, and that we, being severed from ourselves, may, like true lovers, be able to transform ourselves into the beloved, and rising above the earth may be admitted to the angels’ feast, where, fed on ambrosia and immortal nectar, we may at last die a most happy and living death, as died of old those ancient fathers whose souls thou, by the most glowing power of contemplation, didst ravish from the body and unite with God.”

71.—Having thus far spoken, with such vehemence that he almost seemed transported and beside himself, Bembo remained silent and motionless, keeping his eyes towards heaven, as if wrapped in ecstasy; when my lady Emilia, who with the others had been listening most attentively to his discourse, took him by the border of his robe, and shaking him a little, said:[480]

“Have a care, messer Pietro, that with these thoughts your soul, also, does not forsake your body.”

“My Lady,” replied messer Pietro, “that would not be the first miracle that love has wrought upon me.”

Then my lady Duchess and all the others again began urging Bembo to continue his discourse: and everyone seemed almost to feel in his mind a spark of that divine love which inspired the speaker, and all desired to hear more; but Bembo added:

“My Lords, I have said that which love’s sacred phrensy dictated to me at the moment; now that it seems to inspire me no further, I should not know what to say: and I think love is not willing that its secrets should be further disclosed, or that the Courtier should pass beyond that stage which it has been pleased to have me show him; and therefore perhaps it is not permitted to speak more of this matter.”

72.—“Verily,” said my lady Duchess, “if the unyouthful Courtier should prove able to follow the path that you have shown him, he ought in all reason to content himself with such great felicity, and to have no envy of the youthful Courtier.”

Then messer Cesare Gonzaga said:

“The road which leads to this felicity seems to me so steep that I believe it is very hard to travel.”

My lord Gaspar added:

“I believe it is hard for men to travel, but impossible for women.”

My lady Emilia laughed, and said:

“My lord Gaspar, if you return to wronging us so often, I promise you that you will not be pardoned again.”

My lord Gaspar replied:

“No wrong is done you by saying that women’s souls are not so purged of passion as those of men, nor given to contemplation, as messer Pietro said those must be who would taste divine love. Thus we do not read that any woman has had this grace, but that many men have had it, like Plato, Socrates and Plotinus,[481] and many others; and so many of our holy Fathers, like St. Francis, upon whom an ardent spirit of love impressed the most holy seal of the five wounds:[482] nor could aught but the power of love lift St. Paul to the vision of those mysteries whereof man is not allowed to speak;[483] nor show St. Stephen the opened heavens.”[484]

Here the Magnifico Giuliano replied:

“In this, women will by no means be outdone by men; for Socrates himself confesses that all the mysteries of love which he knew were revealed to him by a woman, who was the famous Diotima;[362] and the angel who wounded St. Francis with the fire of love, has also made several women of our age worthy of the same seal. You must remember, too, that St. Mary Magdalen had many sins forgiven her because she loved much,[485] and perhaps with no less grace than St. Paul was she many times lifted to the third heaven by angelic love; and so many others, who (as I narrated yesterday more at large) for the love of Christ’s name took no heed of life, nor were afraid of torments or any manner of death however horrible and cruel it might be; and they were not old, as messer Pietro would have our Courtier, but tender and delicate girls, and of that age wherein he says that sensual love ought to be allowed in men.”

73.—My lord Gaspar began making ready to reply, but my lady Duchess said:

“Of this let messer Pietro Bembo be the judge, and let us abide by his decision whether or not women are as capable of divine love as men are. But as the controversy between you might be too long, it will be well to postpone it until to-morrow.”

“Nay, until this evening,” said messer Cesare Gonzaga.

“How until this evening?” said my lady Duchess.

Messer Cesare replied:

“Because it is already day;” and he showed her the light that was beginning to come in through the cracks at the windows.

Then everyone rose to his feet in great surprise, for the discussion did not seem to have lasted longer than usual; but by reason of having been begun much later, and by its pleasantness, it had so beguiled the company that they had not perceived the flight of hours; nor was there anyone who felt the heaviness of sleep upon his eyes, which nearly always happens when the accustomed hour of sleep is passed in watching. The windows having then been opened on that side of the palace which looks towards the lofty crest of Mount Catria,[486] they saw that a beautiful dawn of rosy hue was already born in the east, and that all the stars had vanished save Venus, sweet mistress of the sky, who holds the bonds of night and day; from which there seemed to breathe a gentle wind that filled the air with crisp coolness and began to waken sweet choruses of joyous birds in the murmuring forests of the hills hard by.

So, having reverently taken leave of my lady Duchess, they all started towards their chambers without light of torches, that of day being enough for them; and as they were about to quit the room, my lord Prefect turned to my lady Duchess, and said:

“My Lady, to finish the controversy between my lord Gaspar and my lord Magnifico, we will come with our judge this evening earlier than we did yesterday.”

My lady Emilia replied:

“On condition that if my lord Gaspar wishes to accuse women and put some fresh imputation upon them, as is his wont, he shall also give bond to sustain his charge, for I account him a shifty disputant.”

NOTES

VXORI DILECTISSIMAE

OPERIS ADIVTRICI

[Illustration:

BALDESAR CASTIGLIONE COUNT OF NOVILLARA 1478-1529 ]

Reduced from Anderson’s photograph (no.2955) of the anonymous portrait in the Corsini Gallery at Rome. This may possibly be a copy of a second portrait that Raphael is said to have painted of Castiglione, in 1519.

PRELIMINARY NOTES

Baldesar Castiglione was born on his father’s estate of Casatico in the Mantuan territory, 6 December 1478. Michelangelo was his senior by four years; Leo X by three years; Titian by one year; Giorgione and Cesare Borgia were born in the year of his birth, while his friend Raphael and also Luther were his juniors by five years.

His surname is said to be derived from the little town at which Bonaparte defeated the Austrians near Mantua in 1796, and which is by some supposed to have taken its name from _Castrum Stiliconis_, Camp of Stilico, a Roman general of the 4th century. One Tealdo Castiglione was Archbishop of Milan as early as 1074, from which time the family is often and honourably mentioned in the annals of northern Italy.

Baldesar’s parents were Count Cristoforo Castiglione, a soldier-courtier, and Luigia Gonzaga, a near kinswoman of the Marquess of Mantua. The boy studied at Milan,—learning Latin from Giorgio Merula and Greek from Demetrios Chalcondylas, an erudite Athenian who had fled from Byzantium about 1447, and of whom another pupil wrote: “It seems to me that in him are figured all the wisdom, the civility and the elegance of those ancients who are so famous and so illustrious. Merely seeing him, you fancy you are looking on Plato; far more when you hear him speak.”

Having spent some time at the splendid court of Ludovico Sforza at Milan, Castiglione lost his father in 1499, and (the Sforzas being expelled the same year) he returned to Mantua and entered the service of his natural lord, the Marquess Gianfrancesco Gonzaga; he accompanied this prince to Milan to witness the entry of Louis XII of France, and afterwards on an expedition to aid the French in their vain effort to hold the kingdom of Naples against the Aragonese. When Gonzaga abandoned the French cause (after being defeated by Ferdinand the Catholic’s “Great Captain,” Consalvo de Cordova, near the Garigliano in 1503), Castiglione obtained leave to go to Rome, and there met Duke Guidobaldo di Montefeltro, who had come to pay homage to the newly elected Pope Julius II. He entered the duke’s service, and soon became one of the brightest ornaments of that brilliant company of statesmen, prelates, scholars, poets, wits and ladies, known as the Court of Urbino.

In 1504 he took part, under Duke Guidobaldo, in the papal siege of Cesena against the Venetians. The next year he attended the duke on a diplomatic visit to Rome. In 1506 he was sent to the court of Henry VII of England to receive the insignia of the Order of the Garter on the duke’s behalf. As appears from a letter to his mother, he returned to Urbino as early as 5 March 1507, notwithstanding his mention of himself in The Courtier as still absent in England at the date (8-11 March) of the dialogues he professes to report at second hand. In the same year he was sent on a mission to Louis XII at Milan.

On Guidobaldo’s death in 1508, Castiglione continued in the service of the new duke, Francesco Maria della Rovere (“my lord Prefect” of THE COURTIER), who appointed him governor of Gubbio. In the following year he served in his master’s campaign against the Venetians, and contracted a dangerous illness, during which he was tenderly nursed by the dowager duchess, Elisabetta Gonzaga. In 1511 he accompanied the duke to Rome on the occasion of the latter’s trial for the murder of Cardinal Alidosi, and was active in Francesco Maria’s successful defence. In 1513 the duke created him Count of Novillara and gave him an estate of that name, which however he soon lost through the Medici usurpation of the duchy, and never regained. At the death of Julius II, Castiglione was ambassador to the sacred college, and continued in that office during nearly the whole of Leo X's pontificate. His numerous letters show the variety and importance of the diplomatic business in which he was engaged.

Several plans for his marriage came to nothing, and on one occasion, when the lady’s father hesitated, the suitor broke off negotiations, saying: “The wife that I am to take, be she who she may, I desire that she should be given to me with as good will as I take her withal,—yea, if she were the daughter of a king.”

Pope Leo having in 1516 basely deprived Francesco Maria of the Duchy of Urbino, Castiglione accepted an invitation to Mantua and there married Ippolita, daughter of Count Guido Torello di Montechiarugolo and Francesca Bentivoglio, a daughter of the former ruler of Bologna. This union proved exceptionally happy and was blessed by three children: a son Camillo, a daughter Anna, and a second daughter Ippolita, at whose birth the young mother lost her life in 1520. His son attained the age of eighty years, and is said to have been the true embodiment of the qualities described in THE COURTIER.

Castiglione resided alternately at Mantua and at Rome, where he served as Mantuan ambassador, and where his learning, wit, taste, gentle disposition and integrity earned for him an almost unique eminence at the papal court.

In 1524 he was sent by Pope Clement VII as ambassador to the Emperor Charles V (who was waging war against the French in Italy), but while his counsel and high qualities were appreciated, he was too honest a man to cope with the tortuous politics of the time, and proved unable to avert the capture and sack of Rome (1527) or the imprisonment of the pope. These catastrophes, together with a malicious and easily disproved charge of treason brought against him, preyed upon his health, and despite the many honours conferred upon him by Charles, he failed to rally, and finally died at Toledo, 7 February 1529, without again seeing his native land. His body was afterwards brought to Italy and buried in the church of the Madonna delle Grazie near Mantua, where his tomb was erected from designs by his young friend Giulio Romano.

Besides THE COURTIER, his writings comprise: _Tirsi_, an eclogue of fifty-five stanzas in _ottava rima_, written and recited at the court of Urbino for the carnival of 1506; a prologue and epilogue for his friend Bibbiena’s _Calandra_; a few Italian lyrics of moderate merit; and some better Latin elegies and epigrams; nearly all composed during his embassy at Rome. A large number of his letters also have been preserved.

[Illustration:

CASTIGLIONE'S TOMB CHURCH OF THE MADONNA DELLE GRAZIE NEAR MANTUA ]

Reduced from a water-colour drawing made by the architect Patricolo and the painter Zanetti from the monument designed by Giulio Pippi, better known as Giulio Romano, (1492-1546). The water-mark of the paper on which this volume is printed is copied from a drawing, by Zanetti, of Castiglione’s arms as they appear in the upper left-hand panel of the monument.

His fine character is reflected in that of his Courtier, who (as Symonds says) “is, with one or two points of immaterial difference, a modern gentleman, such as all men of education at the present day would wish to be.” It may perhaps aid the reader to realize the time in which the author lived, to recall that when Castiglione was born, printing had been practised in Italy for thirteen years, that the earliest Greek grammar had been printed two years, that America was discovered when he was a boy, that the Reformation began when he was in the prime of life, and that the Lutherans were first called Protestants in the year of his death.

The first (Aldine) edition of THE COURTIER was issued thirteen years after the death of Teob_aldo_ Manucci, the illustrious founder of the press that continued to bear his name, and consisted of one thousand and thirty-one copies, of which thirty were on large paper and one on vellum. It is a small folio of one hundred and twenty-two leaves, the type-page measuring almost precisely nine and one-quarter inches by five and one-eighth inches. In its ordinary form the book can hardly be called rare, as in 1895 the present translator secured a good copy from Leipsic for forty-five francs.

The earliest Spanish translator, BOSCAN, (born at Barcelona about 1493; died in France about 1542), was of gentle birth. Early becoming a soldier, he served with credit in Charles V's Italian campaigns, and thus acquired familiarity with the language and literature of Italy. He is said to have known Castiglione personally. Having been for some time tutor to the young prince who was later known as the Duke of Alva, he married and devoted the rest of his short life to letters. As a writer he is best known as the founder of the Italian poetical school in Spain. Ticknor says that Boscan’s version of THE COURTIER hardly professes to be literal, but that perhaps nothing in Castilian prose of an earlier date is written in so classical and finished a style. It has been often reprinted (as recently as 1873), and was found useful by the present translator in doubtful passages.

The earliest French translator, COLIN, (died 1547), was a native of Auxerre and enjoyed the favour of Francis I, whom he served as reader and almoner, and who bestowed upon him the abbotship of St. Ambrose at Tours, as well as other ecclesiastical offices. In his prosperity he showed much kindness to his less fortunate brother authors, but he was too free of speech to be permanently successful as a courtier, and lost his preferments. His translation of THE COURTIER, which some writers erroneously ascribe to Jean Chaperon, is little esteemed, was soon issued with corrections by another hand, and then followed by another French version. He translated also parts of Homer and Ovid, and composed original verse in Latin and French. For an account of Castiglione’s influence upon French literature and of his many French imitators, consult Pietro Toldo’s “Le Courtisan dans la littérature française et ses rapports avec l'œuvre du Castiglione,” (Archiv für das Studium der Neueren Sprachen und Litteraturen, C. iv, pp. 75 and 313, and C. v, p. 60).

The earliest English translator, HOBY, (born 1530; died 1566), was the son of William and Katherine (Forden) Hoby of Herefordshire. Having studied at Cambridge, he visited France, Italy and other foreign countries. In 1565-6 he was knighted by Queen Elizabeth and sent as ambassador to France, where he soon died, leaving several children and a widow. This lady was the third of Sir Anthony Cooke’s five learned daughters, of whom the eldest married Sir William Cecil (afterwards Lord Burleigh), while the second became the mother of Francis Bacon, Lord Verulam. Interesting details of Hoby’s life and of the manners of the time are given in his unpublished diary, preserved in the British Museum. His version of THE COURTIER was carefully made, and although rough to our ears and occasionally obscure, it became very popular and was several times republished. A beautiful reprint of the original edition has recently been issued (1900), in a scholarly introduction to which Professor Walter Raleigh traces the influence of the book upon Elizabethan writers. THE COURTIER, and especially Hoby’s translation of it, are the subject of a very interesting study by Mary Augusta Scott, Ph.D., printed in the Publications of the Modern Language Association of America, vol. xvi (1901), no. 4. In 1570 Roger Ascham wrote in his “Schoolmaster:” “To join learning with comely exercises, Count Baldesar Castiglione in his book CORTEGIANO doth trimly teach: which book, advisedly read and diligently followed but one year at home in England, would do a young gentleman more good, I wis, than three years’ travel abroad in Italy. And I marvel this book is not more read in the Court than it is, seeing it is so well translated into English by a worthy gentleman, Sir Thomas Hobbie, who was many ways well furnished with learning, and very expert in knowledge of divers tongues.”

Of the first German translator, LORENZ KRATZER, little more is known than that he was an officer of customs at Burckhausen, in Bavaria, from 1565 to 1588, and that he speaks of having devoted to letters the ample leisure which his duties permitted. Although said to be meritorious, his work can hardly have gained wide currency, as both Noyse (whose German translation of THE COURTIER was published at Dilingen in 1593) and a third German translator (whose version was issued at Frankfort in 1684 under the initials “J. C. L. L. J.”) seem to have regarded themselves each as the earliest in the field.

The first Latin translator, TURLER, (born 1550; died 1602), was a _Doctor Juris_, and became burgomaster of his native town of Lössnitz, near Leipsic. Besides THE COURTIER, he translated several of Machiavelli’s works into Latin.

NOTES TO THE DEDICATORY LETTER

Note 1 page 1. Dom MIGUEL DE SILVA, (born about 1490; died 1556), was the second son of Diego de Silva and Maria de Ayola, Count and Countess of Portalegre, a province of central Portugal. Having studied at the universities of Paris, Siena and Bologna, he was soon called to the court of Emanuel of Portugal, held various ecclesiastical posts, and was made Bishop of Viseu in the Province of Beira. As ambassador to Popes Leo X, Adrian VI and Clement VII, he paid long visits to Rome, where his friendship with Castiglione probably began. During the twenty years that followed 1521 he served John III of Portugal as _Escribano de la Puridad_; then, having been made a cardinal by Paul III, he spent the remainder of his life in the papal service, died in Rome, and was buried in the church of Santa Maria in Trastevere. Eminent as a prelate and a diplomatist, he also enjoyed no small repute as an author and an elegant Latinist.

Note 2 page 1. GUIDOBALDO DI MONTEFELTRO, Duke of Urbino, (born 1472; died 1508), was the only son of Duke Federico di Montefeltro and Battista Sforza, an accomplished niece of the first Sforza duke of Milan. Precocious as a child, he was elaborately yet judiciously educated, and much of the praise bestowed upon him in THE COURTIER is shown by contemporary evidence to have been just. On his father’s death in 1482, both he and his State were confided to his cousin Ubaldini (see note 273), who seems to have been loyal to the trust, although next heir to the duchy. From records that have survived, Dennistoun extracts some details of the young duke’s court: “To all persons composing the ducal household, unexceptionable manners were indispensable. In those of higher rank there were further required competent talents and learning, a grave deportment, and fluency of speech. The servants must be of steady habits and respectable character; regular in all private transactions; of good address, modest and graceful; willing and neat handed in their service. There is likewise inculcated the most scrupulous personal cleanliness, especially of the hands, with

## particular injunctions as to frequent ablutions, and extraordinary

precautions against the unpleasant effects of hot weather on their persons and clothing; in case of need, medical treatment is enjoined to correct the breath. Those who wore livery had two suits a year, generally of fustian, though to some silk doublets were given for summer use.”

In 1489 Guidobaldo married Elisabetta Gonzaga, a sister of the Marquess of Mantua. All hopes, however, of an heir were soon abandoned, apparently owing to the young duke’s physical infirmities, which were increased by over exercise and in time unfitted him for all active occupations. Nevertheless he was able to take part in the vain resistance to Charles VIII's invasion of Italy, and later in the expulsion of the French from the kingdom of Naples. While fighting in the service of Pope Alexander VI in 1497, he was taken prisoner and forced to pay a ransom of 30,000 ducats, a sum then equivalent to about twice that number of modern pounds sterling, and raised only at the sacrifice of his duchess’s jewels. In 1501 he aided rather than opposed Louis XII's invasion of Naples.

In 1502 the pope’s son Cesare Borgia treacherously seized the Duchy of Urbino. To spare his people bloodshed and ruin, Guidobaldo fled in disguise to his brother-in-law at Mantua, and after a vain appeal to Louis XII, found an honourable asylum at Venice. In the same year he regained his dominions for a short time, but was again forced to take flight. On the death of Alexander VI (August 1503), Cesare’s power crumbled, Guidobaldo easily recovered his duchy, and his position was soon assured by the election of Julius II, who was not only his personal friend, but also the brother of his sister Giovanna’s husband. In 1504 he formally adopted as his heir this sister’s son, Francesco Maria della Rovere, and (as we have seen) took into his service the future author of THE COURTIER. His learning, amiability and munificence attracted choice spirits to his court, which came to be regarded as the first in Italy. Pope Julius was splendidly entertained there on his way both to and from his Bologna campaign, and the Courtier dialogues are represented as taking place immediately after his departure for Rome in March 1507.

Long an invalid, Guidobaldo became more and more a martyr to his gout, which was aggravated by a season of exceptional drought and cold and brought him final relief from suffering in April 1508. His fame rests, not upon his military and political achievements, but upon the beauty of his character, the variety of his intellectual accomplishments, the patience with which he endured reverses, illness and forced inaction, and upon the culture and refinement that characterized his court.

Note 3 page 1. FRANCESCO MARIA DELLA ROVERE, Duke of Urbino, (born 1490; died 1538), was the son of Giovanni della Rovere and Duke Guidobaldo’s sister Giovanna di Montefeltro. Giovanni was a nephew of Pope Sixtus IV (who had made him Prefect of Rome), and a younger brother of Cardinal Giuliano della Rovere, afterwards Pope Julius II.

On his father’s death in 1501, Francesco was brought to the court of his uncle Guidobaldo, who secured for him a renewal of the Prefecture and superintended his education. In THE COURTIER he appears as “my lord Prefect.” During the Borgian usurpation of the duchy, he found refuge at the court of Louis XII; and soon after the fall of the Borgias and his uncle Julius II's accession, he was adopted as Guidobaldo’s heir, while through the mediation of Castiglione a marriage was arranged for him with Eleanora, daughter to the Marquess of Mantua and niece to the Duchess of Urbino. He now resided chiefly with his uncle, acquainting himself with his future subjects and duties. Although he possessed many of the good qualities ascribed to him in THE COURTIER, his temper was ungovernable, and before reaching the age of eighteen he slew one of the members of the court, who was accused of seducing his sister.

Having become duke in 1508, he was married on Christmas Eve of that year. In the following spring he commanded the papal forces in the League of Cambray, and despite the obstacles put in his way by his colleague Cardinal Alidosi (see note 268), he soon reduced the Romagna towns, the recovery of which from Venice was Julius II's chief object in forming the league. In a later campaign against the French, Bologna was lost to the Church (1511) through the treachery of Alidosi, who craftily contrived to have the blame fall upon Francesco, and was murdered by the latter at Ravenna. After a long trial before six cardinals, in which ample proof of the dead man’s treason was presented, and an eloquent appeal made by Beroaldo (see note 235),—the young duke was acquitted and restored to the pope’s favour.

Although both Francesco and his predecessor had generously befriended the Medici during their exile from Florence (1494-1512), Leo X (Giovanni de' Medici) seized his duchy in 1516, to bestow it on a nephew, Lorenzo de' Medici. It is needless to speak here of Francesco’s restoration in 1521, of his failure to relieve Pope Clement VII when Rome was sacked in 1527, or of his later life.

While small in person, Francesco was active and well formed. His manners were gentle and his character forgiving, in spite of his fiery temper. Strict in religious observances and an enemy to blasphemous language, he was also creditably intolerant of those outrages upon womanly honour with which war was then fraught. He was famous chiefly as a soldier, and by so competent a judge as the Emperor Charles V was regarded as master of the military science of his day.

Note 4 page 1. This disclaimer of careful authorship is not to be taken too literally. At least a draft of Books I-III seems to have been made at Urbino between April 1508 and May 1509, while