The Book of the Courtier
perfect it is; wherefore every effort to clear this doubt would be vain,
save your own judgment. To you alone then be left this task, as to him
who alone can perform it.”
The Unico remained silent for a while, then being urged to speak, at
last recited a sonnet upon the aforesaid subject, declaring what that
letter S meant; which was by many believed to be done impromptu, but as
it was more ingenious and finished than seemed to accord with the
shortness of the time, it was thought rather to have been prepared.[62]
10.—Then having bestowed a merry plaudit in praise of the sonnet, and
talked of it awhile, my lord Ottaviano Fregoso, whose turn it was,
smilingly began as follows:
“My Lords, if I were to affirm that I had never felt the passion of
love, I am sure that my lady Duchess and my lady Emilia would feign to
believe it even though they believed it not, and would say that it was
because I mistrusted ever being able to prevail upon any woman to love
me; whereof indeed I have not made trial hitherto with such persistence
as reasonably to despair of being able sometime to succeed. But yet I
have not refrained because I rate myself so high, or women so low, that
I do not deem many of them worthy to be loved and served by me; but made
timourous rather by the continual laments of some lovers, who—pallid,
gloomy and taciturn—seem always to wear their unhappiness depicted in
their eyes; and if they speak, they accompany every word with triple
sighs, and discourse of nothing but tears, torments, despairings and
longings for death; so that if an amourous spark has sometimes kindled
in my heart, I have at once striven with all my might to quench it, not
from any hate I bear to women as these ladies think, but for my own
good.
“I have also known some others quite different from these dolourous
souls,—lovers who not only give thanks and praise for the kind looks,
tender words and gentle bearing of their mistresses, but flavour all
evils with sweetness, so that they call their ladies’ warrings, anger
and disdain, most sweet. Wherefore such as these seem to me far more
than happy. For if they find such sweetness in lovers’ quarrels, which
those others deem far more bitter than death, I think that in loving
endearments they must enjoy that supreme beatitude which we vainly seek
in this world. So I would that this evening our game might be, that each
man tell, if she whom he loves must needs be angry with him, by what
cause he would have her anger roused. Because if there be any here who
have enjoyed this sweet anger, I am sure that out of courtesy they will
choose one of those causes that make it so sweet; and perhaps I shall
take courage to advance a little farther in love, hoping that I too may
find this sweetness where some find bitterness; and then these ladies
will be no longer able to cast shame upon me because I do not love.”
11.—This game found much favour and everyone made ready to speak upon
the subject, but as my lady Emilia made no further mention of it, messer
Pietro Bembo, who sat next in order, spoke thus:
“My Lords, no small uncertainty has been awakened in my mind by the game
proposed by my lord Ottaviano in his discourse about love’s anger: the
which, however varied it be, has in my case always been most bitter, nor
do I believe that any seasoning could be learned from me that would
avail to sweeten it; but perhaps it is more or less bitter according to
the cause from which it springs.[63] For I remember once to have seen
the lady whom I served wrought up against me, either by some idle
suspicion that she had herself conceived as to my loyalty, or by some
other false notion awakened in her by what others had said to my injury;
insomuch that I believed no pain could equal mine, and it seemed to me
that the greatest suffering I felt was to endure that which I had not
deserved, and to have this affliction come upon me not from my fault but
from her lack of love. At other times I saw her angered by some errour
of mine, and knew her ire to proceed from my fault; and then I deemed
that my former woe was very light compared with that which now I felt;
and it seemed to me that to have displeased, and through my own guilt,
the person whom alone I desired and so zealously strove to please, was
the greatest torment and above all others. I would therefore that our
game might be that each man tell, if she whom he loves must needs be
angry with him, from which of the two he would have her anger spring,
from her or from himself; so that we may know which is the greater
suffering, to give displeasure to her who is loved, or to receive it
from her who is loved.”
12.—Everyone waited for my lady Emilia to reply; but she, saying nothing
more to Bembo, turned and made sign to messer Federico Fregoso that he
should tell his game; and he at once began as follows:
“My Lady, I would it were permitted me, as it sometimes is, to assent to
another’s proposal; since for my part I would readily approve any of the
games proposed by these gentlemen, for I really think that all of them
would be amusing. But not to break our rule, I say that anyone who
wished to praise our court,—laying aside the merit of our lady Duchess,
which with her divine virtue would suffice to lift from earth to heaven
the meanest souls that are in the world,—might well say without
suspicion of flattery, that in all Italy it would perhaps be hard to
find so many cavaliers so singularly admirable and so excellent in
divers other matters besides the chief concerns of chivalry, as are now
to be found here: wherefore if anywhere there be men who deserve to be
called good Courtiers and who are able to judge of what pertains to the
perfection of Courtiership, it is reasonable to believe that they are
here. So, to repress the many fools who by impudence and folly think to
win the name of good Courtier, I would that this evening’s game might
be, that we select some one of the company and give him the task of
portraying a perfect Courtier, explaining all the conditions and special
qualities requisite in one who deserves this title; and as to those
things that shall not appear sound, let everyone be allowed to
contradict, as in the schools of the philosophers it is allowed to
contradict anyone who proposes a thesis.”
Messer Federico was continuing his discourse still further, when my lady
Emilia interrupted him and said:
“This, if it pleases my lady Duchess, shall for the present be our
game.”
My lady Duchess answered:
“It does please me.”
Then nearly all those present began to say, both to my lady Duchess and
among themselves, that this was the finest game that could possibly be;
and without waiting for each other’s answer, they entreated my lady
Emilia to decide who should begin. She turned to my lady Duchess and
said:
“Command, my Lady, him who it best pleases you should have this task;
for I do not wish, by selecting one rather than another, to seem to
decide whom I think more competent in this matter than the rest, and so
do wrong to anyone.”
My lady Duchess replied:
“Nay, make this choice yourself, and take heed lest by not obeying you
give an example to the others, so that they too prove disobedient in
their turn.”
13.—At this my lady Emilia laughed and said to Count Ludovico da
Canossa:
“Then not to lose more time, you, Count, shall be the one to take this
enterprise after the manner that messer Federico has described; not
indeed because we account you so good a Courtier that you know what
befits one, but because, if you say everything wrong as we hope you
will, the game will be more lively, for everyone will then have
something to answer you; while if someone else had this task who knew
more than you, it would be impossible to contradict him in anything,
because he would tell the truth, and so the game would be tedious.”
The Count answered quickly:
“Whoever told the truth, my Lady, would run no risk of lacking
contradiction, so long as you were present;” and after some laughter at
this retort, he continued: “But truly I would fain escape this burden,
it seeming to me too heavy, and I being conscious that what you said in
jest is very true; that is, that I do not know what befits a good
Courtier: and I do not seek to prove this with further argument,
because, as I do not practise the rules of Courtiership, one may judge
that I do not know them; and I think my blame may be the less, for sure
it is worse not to wish to do well than not to know how. Yet, since it
so happens that you are pleased to have me bear this burden, I neither
can nor will refuse it, in order not to contravene our rule and your
judgment, which I rate far higher than my own.”
Reduced from a photograph, specially made through the courtesy of the
Bishop of Bayeux, of an anonymous portrait in his possession. The
sadly injured condition of the original rendered it necessary to
retouch the negative, in which process recourse was had to a small
photograph, kindly furnished by the Marquess Ottavio di Canossa, of
his copy of the Bayeux portrait.
Then messer Cesare Gonzaga said:
“As the early evening is now spent and many other kinds of entertainment
are ready, perhaps it will be well to put off this discussion until
to-morrow and give the Count time to think of what he has to say; for it
is difficult indeed to speak unprepared on such a subject.”
The Count replied:
“I do not wish to be like the fellow who, when stripped to his shirt,
vaulted less well than he had done in his doublet; hence it seems to me
good fortune that the hour is late, for I shall be obliged by the
shortness of the time to say but little, and my not having taken thought
will excuse me, so that I shall be allowed to say without blame whatever
first comes to my lips.
“Therefore, not to carry this burden of duty longer on my shoulders, I
say that in everything it is so hard to know the true perfection as to
be well nigh impossible; and this because of the variety of opinions.
Thus there are many that will like a man who speaks much, and will call
him pleasing; some will prefer modesty; some others, an active and
restless man; still others, one who shows calmness and deliberation in
everything; and so every man praises or decries according to his mind,
always clothing vice with the name of its kindred virtue, or virtue with
the name of its kindred vice; for example, calling an impudent man
frank, a modest man dull, an ignorant man good, a knave discreet; and so
in all things else. Yet I believe that there exists in everything its
own perfection, although concealed; and that this can be determined
through rational discussion by any having knowledge of the thing in
hand. And since, as I have said, the truth often lies concealed, and I
do not profess to have this knowledge, I can only praise the kind of
Courtier that I most esteem, and approve him who seems to me nearest
right, according to my poor judgment; the which you will follow if you
find it good, or you will hold to your own if it differs from mine. Nor
shall I at all insist that mine is better than yours; not only because
you may think one thing and I another, but I myself may sometimes think
one thing, and sometimes another.
14.—“I wish, then, that this Courtier of ours should be nobly born and
of gentle race; because it is far less unseemly for one of ignoble birth
to fail in worthy deeds, than for one of noble birth, who, if he strays
from the path of his predecessors, stains his family name, and not only
fails to achieve but loses what has been achieved already; for noble
birth is like a bright lamp that manifests and makes visible good and
evil deeds, and kindles and stimulates to virtue both by fear of shame