“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.”

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.

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.”

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.

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.