CHAPTER XIII.

GINEVRA, AND ALESSANDRA STROZZI.

While the sagacity of Horace Walpole was tracking the identity of the

fair Geraldine, through the mazes of poetry and probability,--through

parchments, through peerages, through papers, and through patents, he

must now and then have been annoyed by the provoking discretion of her

chivalrous adorer, which had led him such a chase. But of all the

discreet lovers that ever baffled commentators or biographers, commend

me to Ariosto! though one of the last from whom discretion might have

been expected on such a subject. He is known to have been particularly

susceptible to the power of beauty; passionate in his attachments; and

though pensive and abstracted in his general habits, almost irresistibly

captivating in his intercourse with women. Yet such was his fine

chivalrous feeling for the honour of those who, won by his rare

qualities, yielded it to his keeping--"such his marvellous secrecy and

modesty," say his Italian biographers, that although the public gaze was

fixed upon him in his lifetime, and although, since his death, the

minutest circumstances relative to him have been subjects of as much

curiosity and research in Italy, as Shakspeare among us; yet a few

scattered notices are all that can be brought together to illustrate his

charming lyrics.

This mystery was not in Ariosto the effect of chance or affectation; it

arose from a principle of conduct faithfully adhered to from youth to

age; in behalf of which, and the many beautiful passages expressive of

devotion and reverential tenderness towards our sex, scattered through

his great poem, we will endeavour, (though at some little sacrifice of

the pride and delicacy of women,) to pardon him, for having treated us

most wickedly, on sundry other occasions. As an emblem of the reserve he

had imposed on himself, a little bronze Cupid, with his finger on his

lip, in token of silence, ornamented his inkstand, which is still

preserved at Ferrara.

Of Ariosto's amatory poems, so full of spirit, grace, and a sort of

earnest triumphant tenderness, it is impossible to doubt that the

objects were real. The earliest of his serious attachments, was to a

young girl of the Florentine family of the Lapi, but residing at Mantua,

or in its vicinity. Her name was Ginevra,--a name he has tenderly

commemorated in the Orlando Furioso, by giving it to one of his most

charming and interesting heroines,--Ginevra di Scozia. He has also,

after Petrarch's fashion, _played_ upon this name in one or two of his

sonnets; _Ginevro_ signifying a juniper-tree:

Non voglio (e Febo e Bacco mi perdoni)

Che lor frondi mi mostrino poeta,

Ma che un _Ginevro_ sia che mi coroni!

"I wish not, (may Bacchus and Phoebus pardon me!) either

the laurel or the ivy to crown my brows; let my wreath be

rather of the thorny juniper!"

His love for Ginevra (which was fondly returned,) began in very early

youth; their first interview occurred at a _Festa di Ballo_,--a

fete-champetre, where Ginevra excelled all her young companions in the

dance, as much as she surpassed them in her blooming beauty. He alludes

to stolen interviews, in a grove of laurels, and on the banks of the

Mincio: and on the whole, confesses that he had no reason to complain of

cruelty from the fair Ginevra.[75] This attachment lasted long; for,

four years after their first meeting, Ariosto addresses her in a most

impassioned strain, and vows that she was then "dearer to him than his

own soul, and fairer than ever in his eyes." She seems to have left that

permanent impression on his memory and fancy, that shade of tender

regret with which a man of strong sensibility and ardent imagination

always recurs to the first love of his youth, even when the passion

itself is past. He says himself, when revisiting Mantua many years

afterwards, that the scene revived all his former tenderness--

Quel foco ch' io pensai che fosse estinto,

Dal tempo, dagli affanni, ed il star lunge

Signor pur arde.----

I cannot discover what became of Ginevra ultimately: her fate was a

common one: she was loved by a celebrated man, was forsaken, and in

exchange for happiness and for love, she has enjoyed for some time a

shadowy renown. Her name was usually connected with that of Ariosto,

till the researches of later biographers discovered the object of that

more celebrated, more serious, and more lasting passion which inspired

Ariosto's finest lyrics, which was subsequently sealed by a private

marriage, and ended only with the poet's life. In this instance, the

modesty of the lady and the discretion of Ariosto have proved in vain,

for the name of _Alessandra Strozzi_ is now so inseparably linked with

that of her poet, that Beatrice is not more identified with Dante, nor

Laura with Petrarch; though their names be more popular, and their fame

more widely spread.

Minor di grido, ma del vanto altera,

(E cio le basta) che suo saggio amante

Fu'l grande che canto l'armi e gli amori--

Vedi Alessandra![76]

Alessandra Strozzi was the daughter of Filippo Benucci, and the widow of

Tito Strozzi, a noble Florentine and famous Latin poet. At the period of

her first acquaintance with Ariosto, she must have been about

six-and-twenty, and a beautiful woman, on a very magnificent scale.

Though I cannot find that she was distinguished for talents, or any

particular taste for literature, she seems to have possessed higher and

more loveable qualities, which won Ariosto's admiration and secured his

respect to the last.

It was on his return from Rome in 1515, that Ariosto visited Florence,

intending merely to witness the grand festival which was then celebrated

in honour of St. John the Baptist, and lasted several days. With what

animation, what graphic power, he has described in one of his canzoni,

the scene and occasion in which he first beheld his mistress! The

magnificence of Florence left, he says, few traces on his memory: he

could only recollect that in all that fair city, he saw nothing so fair

as herself.

Sol mi resta immortale

Memoria, ch'io non vidi in tutta quella

Bella citta, di voi, cosa piu bella.

He had arrived just in time to be present at a fete, to which both were

invited, and which Alessandra, notwithstanding her recent widowhood,

condescended to adorn with her presence, "da preghi vinta"--conquered by

the entreaties of her friends. The whole scene is set forth like some of

the living and moving pictures which glow before us in the Orlando.

Porte, finestre, vie, templi, teatri,

Vidi pieni di Donne,

A giochi, a pompe, a sacrifici intenti.

The portrait of Alessandra in her festal attire, and all her matronly

loveliness, looks forth, as it were, from this gorgeous frame, like one

of Titian's breathing, full-blown beauties. Her dress is minutely

described: it was black, embroidered over with wreaths of vine-leaves

and bunches of grapes, in purple and gold; her fair luxuriant hair,

gathered in a net behind and parted in front, fell down on either side

of her face, in long curls which touched her shoulders.

In aurei nodi, il biondo e spesso crine

In rara e sottil rete, avea raccolto;

Soave ombra di drieto

Rendea al collo, e dinanzi alle confine

Delle guance divine;

E discendea fin a l' avorio bianco

Del destro omero, e manco;

Con queste reti, insidiosi amori

Preser quel giorno, piu de mille cori!

"In golden braids, her fair

And richly flowing hair

Was gather'd in a subtle net behind,--

(A subtle net and rare!)

And cast sweet shadows there

Over her neck, whilst parted ringlets, twined

In beauty, from her forehead fell away,

And hung adown her cheek where roses lay,

Touching the ivory pale, (how pale and white!)

Of both her rounded shoulders, left and right.

O crafty Loves! no more ye need your darts;

For well ye know, how many thousand hearts,

(Willing captives on that day,)

In those golden meshes lay!"[77]

On her brow, just where her hair is parted, she wears a sprig of laurel,

wondrously wrought in gems and gold;

Quel gemmato

Alloro, tra la serena fronte e l' calle assunto.

After a rapturous, but general description of the lady's surpassing

beauty, this animated and admirable canzone concludes with the fine

comparison of himself to the wild falcon, tamed at length to a master's

hand and voice:--

La libertade apprezza,

Fin che perduta ancor non l' ha il falcone;

Preso che sia, depone

Del gire errando si l' antica voglia,

Che sempre che si scioglia,

Al suo Signor a render con veloci

Ali s' andra, dove udira le voci!

Ariosto, thus enamoured, forgot the flight of time; instead of remaining

at Florence a few days, his stay was prolonged to six months; and as he

resided in the house of his friend Vespucci, who was the brother-in-law

of Alessandra, he had daily opportunities of seeing her, without in any

way compromising her matronly dignity. On a certain occasion he finds

her employed at her embroidery. She is working a robe, with wreaths of

lilies and amaranthes; these emblems of purity and love suggest, of

course, the obvious compliments, but in a spirit that places the whole

scene before us: Alessandra, gracefully bending at her embroidery-frame,

and listening, with veiled lids and suspended needle, to the tender

homage of Ariosto, who repeats, as he hangs over her,--

Non senza causa il giglio e l' amaranto,

L' uno di fede, e l' altro fior d' amore, &c.

Even the pattern from which she is working, the silk, the gold, the

lawn, made happy by her touch, are sanctified, are envied,--

Avventuroso man! beato ingegno!

Beata seta! beatissimo oro!

Ben nato lino! inclito bel lavoro,

Da chi vuol la mia dea prender disegno,

Per far a vostro esempio un vestir degno,

Che copra avorio, e perle ed un tesoro![78]

And he adds, "Ah, that she would rather take pattern after me, and

imitate the constant love I bear her!"

Alessandra must have excelled in needle-work, for we find frequent

mention of her favorite occupation; and it is even alluded to in the

Orlando, where describing the wound of Zerbino, Ariosto uses a

comparison rather too fanciful for the occasion.

Cosi talora un bel purpureo nastro

Ho veduto partir tela d'argento,

Da quel bianca man piu ch'alabastro

Da cui partire il cor spesso mi sento.

And so, I sometimes have been wont to view

A hand more white than alabaster, part

The silver cloth, with ribbons red of hue,

A hand I often feel divide my heart.[79]

Among the personal charms of Alessandra, the most striking was the

beauty and luxuriance of her hair. In the days of Ariosto, fair hair,

with a golden tinge, was so much admired that it became a fashion; we

are even informed that the Venetian women had invented a dye, or

extract, by which they discharged the natural colour of their tresses,

and gave them this admired hue. Almost all Titian's and Giorgione's

beauties have fair hair; the "richissima capellatura bionda" of

Alessandra, was a principal charm in the eyes of her lover, but it was

one she was destined to lose prematurely; during a dangerous illness,

some rash and luckless physician ordered all her beautiful tresses to be

cut off. The remedy, it seems, was equally unnecessary and unfortunate;

but here was a fine theme for an indignant lover! and Ariosto has,

accordingly, lavished on it some of his most graceful and poetical

ideas. Of the three elegant sonnets[80] in which he has commemorated the

incident, it is difficult to decide which is the finest--the last,

perhaps, is the most spirited: the poet bursts at once into his subject,

as in a transport of grief and rage.

"When I think, as I do, a thousand, thousand times a-day, upon those

golden tresses, which neither wisdom nor necessity, but hasty folly,

tore, alas! from that fair head, I am enraged,--my cheek burns with

anger,--even tears gush forth, bathing my face and bosom;--I could die

to be revenged on the impious stupidity of that rash hand! O Love, if

such wrong goes unpunished, thine be the reproach! Remember how Bacchus

avenged on the Thracian King,[81] the clusters torn from his sacred

vines: wilt thou, who art greater far than he, do less? Wilt thou suffer

the loveliest and dearest of thy possessions to be audaciously ravished,

and yet bear it in silence?"[82]

This is powerful enough to be in downright earnest: and unsoftened by

the flowing harmony of the verse and rhyme, appears even harsh, both in

sentiment and expression: but the poetry and spirit being inherent, have

not, I trust, quite escaped in the _transfusion_. When Ariosto, after a

long absence, revisits the scene in which he first beheld the lady of

his thoughts, he addresses those "marble halls, and lofty and stately

roofs,

"Marmoree logge, alti e superbi tetti,"

in a strain which leaves the issue of his suit something less than

doubtful:--

"Well do ye remember, ye scenes, when I left ye a captive sick at

heart, and pierced with Love's sweet pain: but ye know not perhaps how

sweetly I died, and was restored again to life: how my gentlest Lady,

seeing that my soul had forsaken me, sent me hers in return to dwell

with me for ever!"

"Ben vi sovvien, che di qui andai captivo,

Trafitto il cor! ma non sapete forse

Com' io morissi, e poi tornassi in vita.

E che madonna, tosto che s' accorse

Esser l' anima in lei da me fuggita,

La sua mi diede, e ch' or con questa vivo!"

The exact date of Ariosto's marriage cannot be ascertained, but the

marriage itself is proved beyond a doubt:[83] it must have taken place

about 1522. The reasons which induced Ariosto to involve in doubt and

mystery his union with this admirable woman, can only be

conjectured,[84] their intercourse was so carefully concealed, and the

discretion and modesty of Alessandra so remarkable, that no suspicion of

the ties which bound them to each other, existed during the life of the

poet; nor did the slightest imputation ever sully the fair fame of her

he loved.

It were endless to point out the various beauties of Ariosto's

lyrics,--beauties which, as they spring from feeling, are _felt_. We

have few sonnets in a dolorous strain, few complaints of cruelty; and

even these seem inspired, not by the habitual coldness of Alessandra,

but by some occasional repulses which he confesses to have deserved.

Per poco consiglio, e troppo ardire.

But we have, in their place, all the glow of sensibility, the sparkling

of hope, the grateful rapture of returned affection, and that power of

imagery, by which, with one vivid stroke, he turns his emotions into

pictures: these predominate throughout. As an instance of the latter,

there is the apostrophe to Hope, "now bounding and leaping along, now

creeping with coward steps and slow:"

O speranza! che ancor dietro si mena

Quando a gran salti, e quando a passi lenti!

In one of his madrigals, he says, with an elegance which is perhaps a

little quaint, "my wishes soar so high, that my hopes shrink back, and

dare not follow them." In the same spirit, when he is blest with the

presence of his love, grief is not only banished, but "flies with the

rapidity of a falcon before the wind,"

Vola, com' un falcone che ha seco il vento!

Merely to compare his mistress to a rose, would have been common-place.

She is a rose "unfolding her _paradise_ of leaves,"--a charming

expression, which has been adopted, I think, by one of our living poets.

Mingled with the most rapturous praise of Alessandra's triumphant

beauty, we have constantly the most delightful impression of her

tenderness, her frank and courteous bearing, and the gladness which her

presence diffuses through his heart, which, after the sentimental

lamentations of former poets, are really a relief.

I can understand the self-congratulation, the secret enjoyment, with

which Ariosto dwelt on the praises of Alessandra, celebrated her charms,

and exulted in her love, while her name remained an impenetrable secret,

Nor pass'd his lips in holy silence seal'd!

But when once he had introduced her into the Orlando, he must have had a

very modest idea of his own future renown, not to have anticipated the

consequences. A famous passage in the 42d canto, is now universally

admitted to be a description of Alessandra.[85] She is very strikingly

introduced, and yet with the usual characteristic mystery; so that while

nothing is omitted that can excite interest and curiosity, every means

are taken to baffle and disappoint both. Rinaldo, while travelling in

Italy, arrives at a splendid palace on the banks of the Po. It is

minutely described, with all the prodigal magnificence of the Arabian

Nights', and all the taste of an architect; and among other riches, is

adorned with the statues of the most celebrated women of that age, all

of whom are named at length; but among them stands the effigy of one so

preeminent in majesty, and beauty, and intellect, that though she is

partly veiled, and habited in modest black, (alluding to her recent

widowhood,) though she wears neither jewels nor chains of gold, she

eclipses all the beauties around her, as the evening star outshines all

others.

Che sotto puro velo, in nera gonna

Senza oro e gemme, in un vestire schietto,

Fra le piu adorne non parea men bella

Che sia tra l'altre la ciprigna stella![86]

At her side stands the image of one, who in humble strains had dared to

celebrate her virtues and her beauty (meaning himself). "But," adds the

poet modestly, "I know not why he alone should be placed there, nor what

he had done to be so honoured; of all the rest, the names were

sculptured beneath; but of these two, the names remained unknown."--No,

not so! for those whom Love and Fame have joined together, who shall

henceforth sunder?

The Orlando Furioso was completed and published shortly after Ariosto's

visit to Florence; and this passage must have been written apparently

not only before his marriage with Alessandra, but before he was even

secure of her affection; perhaps he read it aloud to her, and while his

stolen looks and faltering voice betrayed the true object of this most

beautiful and refined homage, she must have felt the delicacy which had

suppressed her name. In such a moment, how little could she have heeded

or thought of the voice of future fame, while the accents of her lover

thrilled through her heart!

Alessandra removed from Florence to Ferrara, about 1519, and inhabited

the Casa Strozzi, in the street of Santa Maria in Vado. The residence

of Ariosto was in the Via Mirasole, at some distance. Both houses are

still standing. She died in 1552, having survived the poet about

nineteen years; and she was buried in the church of San Rocco at

Ferrara.

She bore no children to Ariosto; and her son, by her first marriage

(Count Guido Strozzi), died before her.

* * * * *

Ariosto left two sons, whom he tenderly loved, and had educated with

extreme care. The eldest, Virginio, was the son of a beautiful

Contadinella, whose name was Orsolina; the mother of the youngest,

Giovanbattista, was also a girl of inferior rank; her name was Maria.

Neither are once mentioned or alluded to by Ariosto; but the mischievous

industry of the poet's commentators has immortalized their names and

their frailty.

FOOTNOTES:

[75]

----Non ebbe unqua pastore

Di me piu lieto, o piu felice amore!

See the canzone to Ginevra, quoted by Baruffaldi. Vita, p. 148.

[76] Monti. Poesie varie, p. 88.

[77] Translated by a friend.

[78] Sonnet 27.

[79] Stewart Rose's translation.

[80] The 26th, 27th, and 28th.

[81] Lycurgus, King of Thrace.

[82] Ariosto. Rime.

[83] The proofs may be consulted in Baruffaldi, "Vita di M. Ludovico

Ariosto," published in 1807; and also in Frizzi, "Memorie della Famiglia

Ariosto."

[84] Baruffaldi gives some family reasons, but they are far from being

satisfactory.--See VITA, in p. 159.

[85] Ruscelli, Fabroni, Baruffaldi, and the late poet Monti, are all

agreed on this point.

[86] Orlando Furioso, c. 42, st. 93.