The Book of the Courtier
is a harsh and intolerable discord. And the reason is that repetition of
perfect consonances begets satiety and exhibits a too affected harmony;
which is avoided by introducing imperfect consonances, and thus a kind
of contrast is given, whereby our ears are held more in suspense, and
more eagerly await and enjoy the perfect consonances, and sometimes
delight in that discord of the second or seventh, as in something
unpremeditated.”
“You see then,” replied the Count, “the harmful effect of affectation in
this as in other things. It is said also to have been proverbial among
some very excellent painters of antiquity, that over diligence is
harmful, and Protogenes is said to have been censured by Apelles because
he did not know when to take his hand from the tablet.”[75]
Then messer Cesare said:
“Methinks our friend fra Serafino has this same fault, of not knowing
when to take his hands from the table, at least until all the food has
been taken from it too.”[76]
The Count laughed, and continued:
“Apelles meant that in his painting Protogenes did not know when he had
finished, which was the same thing as reproving him for being affected
in his work. Thus this excellence, which is the opposite of affectation
and which for the present we call nonchalance, besides being the true
fountain from which grace springs, carries with it another ornament,
which, in accompanying any human action whatever and however trifling it
be, not only at once reveals the knowledge of him who performs it, but
often leads us to rate his knowledge as much greater than in fact it is;
because it impresses upon the minds of the bystanders the idea that he
who does well so easily, knows much more than he does, and that if he
were to use care and effort in what he did, he could do it far better.
“And to multiply like examples, here is a man who handles weapons,
either about to throw a dart or holding a sword in his hand or other
weapon; if he nimbly and without thinking puts himself in an attitude of
readiness, with such ease that his body and all his members seem to fall
into that posture naturally and quite without effort,—although he do no
more, he will prove himself to everyone to be perfect in that exercise.
Likewise in dancing, a single step, a single movement of the person that
is graceful and not forced, soon shows the knowledge of the dancer. A
musician who in singing utters a single note ending with sweet tone in a
little group of four notes with such ease as to seem spontaneous, shows
by that single touch that he can do much more than he is doing. Often
too in painting, a single line not laboured, a single brush-stroke
easily drawn, so that it seems as if the hand moves unbidden to its aim
according to the painter’s wish, without being guided by care or any
skill, clearly reveals the excellence of the craftsman, which every man
appreciates according to his capacity for judging. And the same is true
of nearly everything else.
“Our Courtier then will be esteemed excellent and will attain grace in
everything, particularly in speaking, if he avoids affectation; into
which fault many fall, and often more than others, some of us Lombards;
who, if they have been a year away from home, on their return at once
begin to speak Roman, sometimes Spanish or French, and God knows how.
And all this comes from over zeal to appear widely informed; in such
fashion do men devote care and assiduity to acquiring a very odious
fault. And truly it would be no light task for me, if I were to try in
these discussions of ours to use those antique Tuscan words that are
quite rejected by the usage of the Tuscans of to-day; and besides I
think everyone would laugh at me.”
29.—Then messer Federico said:
“Of course in discussing among ourselves as we now are doing, perhaps it
would be amiss to use those antique Tuscan words, since (as you say)
they would be fatiguing to him who uttered them and to him who listened
to them, and by many would not be understood without difficulty. But if
one were writing, I should certainly think he would be wrong not to use
them, because they add much grace and authority to writing, and from
them there results a style more grave and full of majesty than from
modern words.”
“I do not know,” replied the Count, “that writings can gain grace and
authority from those words that ought to be avoided, not merely in such
talk as we are now engaged in (which you yourself admit), but also under
every other circumstance that can be imagined. For if any man of good
judgment should chance to make a speech on serious matters before the
very senate of Florence, which is the capital of Tuscany, or even to
converse privately with a person of weight in that city about important
business, or with his closest friend about affairs of pleasure, with
ladies or gentlemen about love, or joking or jesting at feasts, games,
and where you will,—or whatever the time, place or matter,—I am sure he
would avoid using those antique Tuscan words; and if he did use them,
besides exciting ridicule, he would give no little annoyance to everyone
who listened to him.
“It seems to me then a very strange thing to use as good in writing
those words that are avoided as faulty in every sort of speaking, and to
insist that what is never proper in speaking, is the most proper style
that can be used in writing. For in my opinion writing is really nothing
but a form of speech, which still remains after we have spoken, as it
were an image or rather the life of our words: and thus in speech, which
is lost as soon as the sound has gone forth, some things are bearable
perhaps that are not in writing, because writing preserves the words and
subjects them to the judgment of the reader and gives time to consider
them advisedly. Hence in writing it is reasonable to take greater pains
to make it more refined and correct; not however in such wise that the
written words may be unlike the spoken, but that, in writing, choice be
made of the most beautiful that are used in speaking. And if that were
allowed in writing which is not allowed in speaking, I think a very
great inconvenience would arise: which is that greater license could be
taken in that respect wherein greater care ought to be taken; and the
industry bestowed on writing would work harm instead of good.
“Therefore it is certain that what is proper in writing, is proper also
in speaking, and that manner of speaking is most beautiful which is like
beautiful writing. Moreover I think it is far more necessary to be
understood in writing than in speaking, because those who write are not
always present before those who read, as those who speak are present
before those who hear.[77] But I should praise him, who besides avoiding
many antique Tuscan words, acquired facility, both writing and speaking,
in the use of those that are to-day familiar in Tuscany and in the other
parts of Italy, and that have comeliness of sound. And I think that
whoever imposes other rule upon himself, is not very sure of escaping
that affectation which is so much censured and of which we were speaking
earlier.”
30.—Then messer Federico said:
“Sir Count, I cannot gainsay you that writing is a kind of speech.
Indeed, I say that if words that are spoken have any obscurity in them,
the meaning does not penetrate the mind of him who hears, and passing
without being understood, comes to naught: which does not occur in
writing, because if the words that the writer uses carry with them a
little, I will not say difficulty, but subtlety that is recondite and
thus not so familiar as are the words that are commonly used in
speaking,—they give a certain greater authority to the writing, and
cause the reader to proceed more cautiously and collectedly, to consider
more, and to enjoy the genius and learning of him who writes; and by
judiciously exerting himself a little, he tastes that delight which is
found in the pursuit of difficult things. And if the ignorance of him
who reads is so great that he cannot overcome those difficulties, it is
not the fault of the writer, nor on this account ought that style to be
deemed unbeautiful.
“Therefore in writing, I believe it is proper to use Tuscan words used
only by the ancient Tuscans, because that is great proof and tested by
time, that they are good and effective to express the sense in which
they are used. And besides this, they have that grace and venerableness
which age lends not only to words, but to buildings, to statues, to
pictures, and to everything that is able to attain it, and often merely
by their splendour and dignity they make diction beautiful, by virtue
whereof (and of grace) every theme, however mean it be, can be so
adorned as to merit very high praise. But this custom of yours, by which
you set such store, seems to me very dangerous, and often it may be bad;
and if some fault of speech is found widely prevalent among the ignorant
many, methinks it ought not on this account to be taken as a rule and
followed by other men. Moreover customs are very diverse, nor is there a
noble city of Italy that has not a different manner of speaking from all
the others. But as you do not limit yourself to declaring which is the
best, a man might as well adopt the Bergamasque as the Florentine, and
according to you it would be no errour.[78]
“Therefore I think that whoever wishes to avoid all doubt and be quite
safe, must needs select as model someone who by consent of all is rated
good, and must take him as a constant guide and shield against any
possible adverse critic. And this model (in the vernacular, I mean) I do
not think should be other than Petrarch[79] and Boccaccio; and whoever
departs from these two, gropes like one who walks in the dark without a
light and thus often mistakes the road. But we are so daring that we do
not deign to do that which the good writers of old did,—that is, devote
themselves to imitation, without which I think a man cannot write
well.[80] And methinks good proof of this is shown us by Virgil, who by
his genius and judgment so divine took from all posterity the hope of
ever being able to imitate him well, yet fain would imitate Homer.”
31.—Then my lord Gaspar Pallavicino said:
“This discussion about writing is certainly well worth listening to:
still it would be more to our purpose if you were to teach us in what
manner the Courtier ought to speak, for I think he has greater need of
it and more often has occasion to employ speaking than writing.”
The Magnifico replied:
“Nay, for a Courtier so excellent and so perfect there is no doubt but
it is necessary to know both the one and the other, and that without
these two accomplishments perhaps all the rest would not be very worthy
of praise. So if the Count wishes to perform his duty, he will teach the
Courtier not only how to speak, but also how to write well.”
Then the Count said:
“My lord Magnifico, that task I will on no account accept; for great
folly would be mine to pretend to teach others that which I do not
myself know, and (even if I did know it) to think myself able to do in
only a few words that which with so much care and pains has hardly been
done by most learned men,—to whose works I should refer our Courtier, if
I were indeed bound to teach him how to write and speak.”
Messer Cesare said:
“My lord Magnifico means speaking and writing the vernacular [Italian],
and not Latin; so those works by learned men are not to our purpose. But
in this matter there is need for you to tell us what you know about it,
because for the rest we will hold you excused.”
The Count replied:
“I have told you that already; but as we are speaking of the Tuscan
tongue, perhaps it would be, more than any other man’s, my lord
Magnifico’s office to give an opinion on it.”
The Magnifico said: