ELEVEN years had now gone by since the marriage of Federigo, and had given him eight daughters. Although the laws of succession were neither well defined nor rigorously adhered to among Italian feudatories, a general desire to see the sovereignty secured in the line of one so justly beloved was felt throughout his state. For an object beyond human aid recourse was had to the Disposer of all good, and to Him were the prayers both of sovereigns and subjects continuously addressed for the blessing of a boy. We are told by Odasio, that the anxious Battista hesitated not to offer her own life in return for the boon of a son worthy of his father; and he gravely attests this supernatural answer to her own and her people's intercession. She saw in a dream a lovely phoenix perched upon a lofty tree, which, after sitting there for thirty-six days, winged its flight heavenward until it touched the sun, and then disappeared in flames. Coincident with this vision was the fulfilment of her desire, and in due time she presented her delighted husband and subjects with a beautiful boy.[158] As her dream occurred while resident at Gubbio, and in supposed response to appeals addressed through S. Ubaldo, the patron of that city, she was careful that her confinement should likewise take place under his auspices. The child was born there on the 17th or 24th of January, 1472,[*159] and whilst the grateful piety of his parents ordered solemn public devotional acknowledgments for the boon, the universal joy was testified by popular festivities and illuminations, which were prolonged until Lent set in. A few days after his birth he was baptised in the cathedral with becoming solemnity by the Bishop, Antonio de' Severi. The names selected were Guido Paulo Ubaldo, of which the second seems never to have been used: the first was, as we have seen, of historical illustration in the family of Montefeltro; the last acknowledged the presumed mediation of the Gubbian saint.[160]

The next partial interruption to the peace which reigned through the Peninsula arose on the side of Tuscany, and called forth the energies of Federigo. There are varying accounts how the squabbles of a few miners brought on a sanguinary contest; but its origin may thus be explained. Volterra, though nominally independent, was tributary to Florence, and under her protection. That community possessed a wide extent of rocky and barren pastures, leased annually by auction for the public good. The poverty of their surface was amply compensated by minerals buried under an arid volcanic soil, which contained abundance of alum, vitriol, salt, and sulphur, besides a sprinkling of precious metals. Some enterprising speculators having obtained a five years' lease of a portion of these grazing lands, formed a mining company along with several Florentine capitalists. The success attending their adventure roused the jealousy of certain Volterran citizens, who grudging such gains at the public expense raised a riot, in which the company's works were injured. The merchants of Florence appealed to their own government, and the intervention thus commenced led to further outrages, until, at the instance of Lorenzo de' Medici, an expedition to humble this contumacy was resolved on. After explaining to the confederate powers the causes of quarrel, the Florentine executive thus announced to their troops Count Federigo's appointment as their leader:—

"On looking round for a captain worthy of your valour, there has been no difficulty in finding one, who from his earliest years has been signalised, under the eyes of you all, by so many and great feats of arms, that there cannot be a question whom you ought to ask for, and we to give. In former times it has frequently happened that a safe commander has been discovered after great exertions and amid grievous perils. But, in this menacing war, the skill, gallantry, influence, and good fortune of the Lord of Urbino save us all trouble in searching out a leader for our army." Federigo was accordingly placed at the head of a hastily mustered force, estimated by Machiavelli at above ten thousand men, though stated much more moderately by Ammirato. Loathing the horrors of an almost civil contest, the Count anxiously desired an amicable arrangement, or, failing that, a prompt issue of this petty quarrel. In a few days he overran the territory

"Of lordly Volaterra, Where scowls the far-famed hold Piled by the hands of giants, For god-like kings of old;"

and from his quarters at Mazzola, within four miles of their gates, dissuaded the authorities from an unavailing defence, urging, according to Baldi, among other motives for wishing to spare their city, that it was the birthplace of Persius the poet, and offering his mediation to procure for them favourable terms. The magistracy, turning a deaf ear alike to friendly remonstrances and classic associations, began to fortify the place, although without a single ally, and unable to engage more than a thousand stipendiaries. To the infinite disgust of the Florentine commissaries, who desired to humble and punish a rebellious vassal, Federigo allowed the defences to be completed, on pretext of awaiting reinforcements of his own, and the pontifical troops, but in the secret hope that emissaries whom he had sent among the citizens might have better success in conciliatory representations. His forbearance was, however, unavailing against obstinate infatuation, and on the arrival of these auxiliaries, a bombardment was begun from the eastern side of the town. Its site was naturally strong, and the tactics of a siege were then always dilatory, so three weeks passed ere a breach was effected in the wall, and even then several days were spent in bringing up to it covered approaches for the assaulting party. The stipendiaries, regarding the cause as hopeless, now deserted, and the citizens deemed it full time to sue for terms. After negotiations, which were remitted to Florence, it was agreed to surrender the place, on a pledge that life and property would be spared, and that the past would be buried in oblivion. But the authorities, apprehending from their own populace and garrison an outbreak of indignation against these conditions, stipulated that troops should be secretly introduced for preservation of order, preparatory to admitting the besiegers. By some mismanagement, this attempt led to renewed hostilities from the town, but the citadel falling into the hands of the companies who had been so admitted, consternation and confusion spread on all sides. At this juncture a cry was raised from within that the sack was begun, and that all who wished for a share of plunder should look to it.

Other accounts tell us that the walls were carried by assault on the 18th of June, and that a capitulation was then agreed on, by which only certain municipal privileges were surrendered by the city; but that, as the troops entered, an alarm arose of some treacherous movement on the part of the populace, whereupon the Milanese contingent rushed headlong upon them, and commenced a general pillage. Federigo, who had remained outside with the artillery, was made aware of the bloody scenes passing within by cries from the outraged citizens. He instantly proclaimed by trumpet a cessation of hostilities and plunder, commanding all to their quarters, and enjoining the arrest of stragglers. Hurrying to the scene of horrors, he rode among the excited multitude, exerting himself to save the aged and infants, and to protect the women and convents. He compelled the soldiery to lay down their ill-gotten burdens, especially all sacred utensils, and hanged on the spot a Venetian and a Sienese commissary, the alleged authors of this insubordination. But diabolical passions thus roused brooked no control. Hours elapsed, indeed, according to some authorities nightfall arrived, ere the savages could be called off their quarry.

Such appears the substance of numerous contradictory accounts of this unfortunate and mysterious affair.[161] There can be little doubt that it originated in the licentious habits and lax discipline then usual in Italian armies, who looked on plunder as the chief end of war, and regarded pillage as a right rather than a military offence. Almost every writer acquits the Count of blame, and the only imputation against him arose from the terms of a general order, proclaiming death to every soldier found within the walls at sundown, which have been misconstrued into an implied permission for outrage till that hour. It was reserved for flatterers of an after age to soil his fair fame by an invention which they meant as incense to his memory. In proof at once of his moderation and lettered taste, he is stated by these to have contented himself with a great Hebrew Bible as his share of the booty. No contemporary gives the slightest foundation for such a tale, nor have I at all traced to Volterra that curious MS. which will be described in VI. of the Appendices. If found there and abstracted at the siege, it was not improbably presented to Federigo by the grateful authorities of Florence, from whom he refused any pay, serving them for love, whilst, in the words of old Sanzi,

"He nothing brought away but honour bright, Which every other treasure far outshines."[162]

His return from this rapid campaign to the beautiful Queen of Arnoa was a triumphal pageant. Its enthusiastic population met him beyond the gates, and escorted him with acclamations through streets draped with tapestries and rich brocades. In the piazza he was welcomed by the magistrates with a complimentary oration, and at a public banquet received as appropriate gifts the colours of the republic, a handsome charger richly caparisoned, together with a silver helmet, studded with jewels, and chased in gold by the marvellous chisel of Pollaiuolo.[163] Besides a substantial guerdon of lands, houses, brocade stuffs, and vases brimming with bullion, conferred on Federigo, valuable commercial exemptions were decreed in favour of the subjects of Urbino, and three days of uninterrupted festivity scarcely abated the popular rejoicings. Not less valuable in his eyes was the compliment which his good service earned from a private citizen. Poggio Bracciolino being on the outlook for a patron for his History of the Florentines, deemed it could be most appropriately inscribed to one who had just crowned their arms with signal success.

The star of Federigo's fortunes now reached its zenith. The scattered mountain fiefs held by his ancestors had been concentrated by his first marriage, and extended by his policy or prowess.[164] His second nuptials, long crowned by singular domestic felicity, had at length given him an heir. He had founded palaces and churches worthy the admiration of coming generations. He had wielded the batons, and he enjoyed the affectionate respect, of the five great Peninsular powers. He saw the wars, which had yielded him laurels and enriched his state, subside into a peace still more beneficial to his subjects and conducive to his tastes. But, as old Sanzi moralises,

"The spider's most attenuated thread Is cord, is cable to man's tender tie Of earthly bliss: it breaks with every breeze."

Scarcely had he quitted the scene of his triumphs, in order to bear tidings of them to one whose sympathy would have enhanced their sweets, when an express met him with alarming news of her health. Riding day and night, he reached Gubbio on the 6th of July, just in time to close the eyes of his Countess. We are fortunately enabled to give in his own words all the particulars which have reached us of this melancholy event.[165]

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Another letter still more touchingly expresses his feelings on this bereavement. It may have been addressed to the secretary of the Duke of Milan, who had sent an ambassador to attend the obsequies of Battista. "No book lore, no personal experience, could state better than your very elegant letter the vanity of human hopes. Most consolatory has it proved to me, describing so appropriately and feelingly my varied fortune;—the affair of Volterra, the honours with which the distinguished government of Florence has complimented me, and my secret delight while returning homewards to rejoin my circle, my sweet children, my wife, precious above aught else—these all at once transmuted by a death blow, to me the most calamitous. Most impressively have you set forth my affliction, and the loss I have publicly and privately sustained: by such things may indeed be seen the uncertain issues of earthly events."

Again, in thanking the Pope for his condolence, the bereaved Count adds, "For many reasons her death was a grievous vexation, for she was the beloved consort of my fortunes and domestic cares, the delight equally of my public and private hours, so that no greater misfortune could have befallen me."

At a court already attractive to men of literary pretensions, many were ready to take up a theme recommended by sympathy and gratitude. The funeral oration by Antonio Campano, Bishop of Teramo, was printed at Cagli in 1476, and would now be a prize to collectors. The Vatican Library contains several others in manuscript, overflowing with adulation, which for once was well bestowed.[166] Battista was a remarkable instance of the transmission of talent by female descent. Her great-grandmother, Battista di Montefeltro, already celebrated in these pages,[167] though married to a man of miserable character, had a daughter Elisabetta Malatesta, who inherited her misfortunes as well as her genius. Elisabetta's daughter was Costanza Varana, the associate of scholars and philosophers, whose gifts she is said to have rivalled, notwithstanding an early death that deprived her infant Battista of a mother's care. The babe began her letters when three years old, and at four was removed to the court of her uncle, Francesco Sforza, where she was put forward to deliver publicly a Latin oration, during the festivities following upon his installation as Duke of Milan. This display of infantine self-possession and memory, indicating at all events a tractable disposition, has, with fulsome adulation, been magnified as evidence of extraordinary precocious talent, and has been retailed without inquiry, as if her discourse had been an extempore effusion.[168] On the strength of this reputation, when returned home she was made to welcome her father's more distinguished guests in public harangues, a discipline which, however injudicious, does not seem to have prevented her rapid acquisition of solid knowledge, nor to have interfered with her progress in those useful accomplishments of the needle which then formed the resource of high-born dames. The peculiarity of her character was a sedate temperament, that enabled her to take her place with singular judgment in the household of her widowed father, and gained for her several proposals of marriage even earlier than was usual in Italy. The circumstances of her union with Federigo have been noticed in 1459, and although our narrative has rarely named her, we are assured that during his frequent and prolonged absences, her judgment and tact were equally manifested in public affairs and in the management of her domestic concerns. It is startling to find her at fourteen a mother, and virtually regent of his state whilst he was employed in the war of the Neapolitan succession during 1461 and 1462. She spent the spring of both these years with him in winter quarters, the former at Magliano on the northern limit of the Campagna; the latter in the Eternal City, where she interchanged complimentary harangues in Latin with the diplomatic body, and where Pius II., himself no mean critic, praised her eloquence as equalled only by her discretion, and pronounced that fame had understated her merits. On this occasion, among other distinctions, his Holiness received her in full consistory, and conferred the spurs of knighthood on twelve of her suite. Yet these flattering demonstrations in no respect marred the freshness of her character, and devotional observances were the chief object of her visit to Rome. Though gifted with beauty of a high caste, simple dress and manners were her delight, and it was only on state occasions that, indulging her husband's taste rather than her own fancy, she displayed such magnificent attire as is represented in the characteristic portrait here introduced. It is very happily rendered from the original in the Uffizi Gallery at Florence, where profile likenesses of herself and her husband are enclosed in one frame. They were painted by Piero della Francesca, court limner of Urbino, whom we shall mention in our twenty-seventh chapter, and afford highly interesting specimens of early portraiture and mediÆval costume. The Countess wears a robe of boldly flowered brocade, from beneath which emerges the richly bullioned sleeve of her vest. Her jewels are massive but elegant; her elaborate head-dress tastefully disposes a superabundance of luxurious hair—the distinctive beauty of Italian women. Yet a fashion of shaving above the forehead has somewhat marred the harmony of her features, by unduly exposing her "modest and majestic eye." This happily descriptive epithet we owe to Giovanni Sanzi, who knew her well, and scanned her features with an artist's glance; but his tribute merits an extract.

"Then closed that modest and majestic eye. Her pious soul, from mundane risks released, To God its rapid flight devoutly winged, Leaving a tearful household, and the state Grief-stricken, whilst Italia's noblest names Partook their sorrow."

Muzio says, that by "her death was dissolved the most honoured, fitting, and congruous union of that or any other age."

The obsequies, as announced by Federigo to the Priors of Siena, were celebrated with singular magnificence on the 17th of August, in the Church of S. Bernardino, at Urbino. They were attended by thirty-eight envoys from the princes, cities, and great feudatories of Italy, excluding those of Venice and Siena, retarded by bad weather. These deputations formed a retinue of three hundred and sixteen nobles, besides two hundred and ninety belonging to the court of Urbino, and three hundred and eight ecclesiastics. The procession was swelled by crowds of citizens from every town in the state, so that nearly 2000 appeared in mourning garb.[169] The Countess left six daughters and an infant son, the care of whom was a serious burden to her lord. But Sanzi tells us that,

"Feeling at length how sad and profitless It were on this dark world his hopes to rest, His grief within his inmost heart he hid, And mastered it in grave and modest guise."[170]

The next two years were chiefly passed at home, in bringing his mind to this pious resignation, in urging forward his palaces, and in administering his authority for the welfare of an attached people. Of an existence so tranquil and pleasing no glimpses are transmitted to us by his biographers, for it was barren of those martial feats which they considered the almost exclusive field of their labours. But from its not inglorious repose he was called to new honours.

On the 20th of August, 1474, he entered Rome with an escort of two thousand horse. Next morning he was summoned to receive the dignity of Duke from Sixtus, who met him in the great doorway of St. Peter's. There was, however, the preliminary compliment of creating him Knight of St. Peter, in this form. The Pontiff being seated on his throne, the Count was placed on his left, just below the cardinals. High mass having proceeded as far as the gloria, he was led by the Pope's favourite nephews, Girolamo Riario and Giovanni della Rovere, in front of the throne, and knelt on its steps, while Sixtus, taking from one of them the sword of St. Peter, elaborately blessed it, and placed it in his hands, with an injunction to wield it for the Church, and against the enemies of Christ's cross. He was then girt with it by Cardinal Orsini, the nephews meanwhile buckling on his golden spurs, and at a signal from the master of ceremonies, he drew and twice brandished it, returning it to its scabbard. These accoutrements being removed, mass was continued, and, whilst the litanies were chanted, he took the usual oath of fidelity, returning thereafter to his place. Before reading of the Gospel he was conducted to the sacristy by Cardinals Gonzaga and Zeno, where his knightly mantle of gold brocade having been replaced by a ducal robe of similar material, he was again led to his place. The Gospel being concluded, he was taken by them during the offertory once more before his Holiness, who, as Federigo stooped to kiss the pax, suspended from his neck a golden chain, at which hung an exquisite leash (dilascio), and placed on his head a ducal cap,[171] giving into his hand the sceptre, accompanied with appropriate benedictions and exhortations. Having next been led apart, he read aloud the customary oath of fidelity to Pontiff and Church, after which followed the salutations in this form. Prostrated before the Pope, he kissed his feet and hands, whilst prayers were proffered by his Holiness, who then tenderly embraced him. Proceeding to the cardinals, he touched their hands and kissed each, paying the like compliment to the empty seats of those absent, after which he took his place by them. This ceremony ended, he again knelt before the Pontiff, who consigned to him two standards, one with the arms of the Church, the other with his own, and created him Gonfaloniere, declaring him general of the new league.

The Duke of Urbino, thus laden with dignities, was conducted to the foot of the great stairs of St. Peter's; and, as he mounted a charger, the gift of his Holiness, the air reverberated with the clang of trumpets, the drone of bagpipes, and the crash of artillery from St. Angelo. Twenty cardinals and a crowd of nobles, prelates, and spectators escorted him to his lodging at the SS. Apostoli, but as the procession crossed the bridge they were dismayed by an evil omen. A sudden gust of wind striking the newly inaugurated standards, their staffs broke over, and they were dashed to the ground.[172]

Porcellio asserts that, besides these tokens of high favour bestowed by himself, Sixtus had employed his influence in forwarding Federigo's pretensions to the foreign decorations at this time conferred on him. Such an accumulation of good offices from a pope whom he had not as yet been able to serve, had been ascribed to the nepotism so conspicuous in his Holiness's arrangements. If this be true, the clue to it is afforded by a marriage solemnised next day, whereby their respective families were allied. The Duke's daughter Giovanna was then wedded to Giovanni della Rovere, nephew of Sixtus, who soon after obtained for him from the reluctant consistory an investiture of Sinigaglia and Mondavio, that hard-won territory which Federigo had conquered for the Church from its contumacious vassal Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta, and which came eventually to be united with Urbino under the second dynasty of its dukes. On the same day were celebrated the nuptials of another of his daughters, Agnesina, to Fabrizio Colonna. The hereditary talents of her mother, which we have recently traced through several descents,[173] were revived in a daughter of this marriage, Vittoria Colonna, the ill-mated wife of the Marquis of Pescara, whose piety, genius, and beauty divide the applause of her contemporaries, and whom we shall mention in our forty-ninth chapter.

Early in September Federigo repaired to Naples, and the King, having about this time resolved to institute an Order of knighthood, selected for its badge the Ermine, an animal emblematical of purity, whose fur has long been a royal ornament, and named his eldest son and the Duke of Urbino among its original members.[174] Their installation took place at Naples on the 11th of that month, in the chapel royal, where high mass was celebrated, the court attending in gala. After reading of the Epistle, the two acolytes were led by a deputation of nobles into the sacristy, and put on tunics of white damask in the Turkish fashion, after which they were reconducted to the chapel, and having kissed hands, were placed beside the monarch. When the Gospel had been chanted, they were arrayed by the Sovereign with the mantle of the order, which was of scarlet satin lined with ermine fur, open at the right side, and flowing to the feet. A sermon, appropriate to the occasion, having been delivered, they were led to the high altar, where, kneeling, they received their collars, being rich chains of gold, from which hung the insignia, an ermine studded with diamonds and other jewels. The King then calling the young Antonio, who had accompanied his father from Urbino, knighted him, girding a sword to his side, and placing a golden chain on his neck, with an admonition that he should walk in his parent's steps. The ceremonial was concluded by a splendid breakfast in the palace; and four days thereafter the Count set out for Rome, escorted some way by Ferdinand, from whom he parted with mingled embraces and tears.

The English Order of the Garter, instituted by Edward III in 1344, has always enjoyed a European reputation, from its ranks being recruited by foreign sovereigns and heroes. At the chapter of 26th February, 1474, four votes were given to Federigo, and on the 18th of the following August, he was unanimously elected, by the seven knights present, to the stall vacated by Lord Montjoy. He soon after paid, by the Chancellor's hands, 109 pence as fees, and had been installed before the following April. Thus far we have Anstis for our guide; but the unfortunate loss of all the early records of the Order renders us dependent for further particulars on Italian writers. Among these we have met with no contemporary authorities except the epics of Sanzi and Porcellio, whose details, however curious, are scarcely of historical value. These deficiencies are, however, in some measure supplied from a letter-book of Federigo preserved in the Vatican, upon which we have drawn largely for this incident in his career. But in order that the context of our narrative may not be interrupted by somewhat lengthened extracts, they are thrown together into VII. of the Appendices, and will, it is hoped, prove an interesting contribution to the scanty muniments of the Garter. His investiture took place at Grottoferrata during the autumn of 1474, and he commissioned his relative Pietro degli Ubaldini to proceed to England as proxy for his installation.[175]

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The great captains under or from whom Federigo had gathered his laurels were now all dead, and his military reputation far transcended that of any remaining condottiere. It was, therefore, not without jealousy that the powers of Upper Italy saw him establish relations of such close amity with the Pope and Ferdinand. Other matters tended to aggravate the feelings of alarm thus generated. Not satisfied with indulging his nepotism at the expense of the Holy See, Sixtus showed tendencies to an aggressive policy against his neighbours. A portion of the treasure supposed to have been accumulated by his avaricious predecessor, but of which he gave no account, was suspected to have been employed in purchasing for his favourite nephew, Girolamo, the seigneury of Imola from the Manfredi. A local squabble at Todi, dignified with the almost forgotten watchwords of Guelph and Ghibelline, afforded him a pretext for sending thither another nephew, the Cardinal della Rovere, at the head of an army, which, though marching under the papal banner, sided with the self-styled imperialist faction. The Pontiff, who had long seen with regret the feeble hold which his predecessors maintained over their vassals, and even over the nominal subjects of the Church, commissioned his legate to carry out the good work thus begun. Accordingly, after chastising Todi and Spoleto, Giuliano advanced into the upper valley of the Tiber, in order to reduce CittÀ di Castello, where the Vitelli had for some time exercised absolute sovereignty with the title of Vicar. To this expedition the Duke of Urbino gave his aid, and on its successful issue carried several of that family to Rome, in order to intercede for their pardon.

These events accelerated arrangements in the north for a combination calculated to balance the threatening attitude of the southern powers, and in November a defensive treaty was signed by Milan, Venice, and Florence, under reservation, however, to the Pope and King of Naples to accede to the new league. Of this they declined availing themselves, content with general professions of moderation and peace, which, fortunately acted upon, prolonged the general tranquillity of Italy, and enabled her energies to be directed with tolerable unanimity against the Turks. The three years of renewed repose which followed were spent by Federigo at home, in the indulgence of those humane tastes which signalised his court, and laid a foundation for that cultivation of mind by which Urbino became distinguished. This may accordingly be the best place to review his patronage of letters.

The constant repetition of his name in that capacity by writers on literary history leads to an impression that his zeal was remarkable, and that its fruits are attested by ample remains. The former of these conclusions is more correct than the latter. Italian authors have been too prone to re-echo vague compliments; their encomiums are lavish rather than discriminating; rhetorical panegyrics, not portraits to the life; accordingly, most of the plaudits thus bestowed on him are mere phrases of rote, reiterated without varying form of added force. Fortunately there remains to us substantial evidence that they were well founded. Muzio, who wrote about half a century after his death, with full access to original documents, tells us that it was his daily habit to be read to during meals, and to discuss with his courtiers such questions in theology, history, or philosophy as thus arose. When at Urbino, he used to repair weekly to the convent of S. Francesco, for the purpose of maintaining similar disputations with the resident friars, and by these expedients

"Held converse with Zabarell, Aquinas, Scotus, and the musty saw Of antick Donate."

Of Grecian literature, which after the fall of the Eastern Empire came into sudden repute in the Peninsula, he was one of the earliest promoters. Lazzari cites records, proving that in 1467 he brought to his capital Angelo, one of the fugitive Greeks, and, two years later, his countryman, Demetrio, for the purpose of teaching their language. It was under him that the Feltrian court first became what Ruscelli has designated it in the motto prefixed to this work, "a fountain which, in the sober truth of history, rather than in poetic vein, may be called a real Hippocrene." No complete list has come to us of the poets and philosophers who found shelter there, nor would it much avail us to recover names few of which merit a better fate than the obscurity that has long overshadowed them. The fifteenth century was more remarkable for the diffusion of learning than for commanding genius. There were earnestness and laborious diligence in abundance, but they were content to follow or imitate foregone conclusions rather than to strike out new and striking turns of thought. Such was the character of many of those works which, composed for or dedicated to this Duke, remain in MS.,[*176] slumbering undisturbed, and deservedly forgotten, on the shelves of the Vatican. Several of them, being devoted to commemorate his actions or his contemporaries, held out to me a rich promise of racy material. But servile in style as in substance, and disfigured by the borrowed diction and engrafted mythology of classic models, they often proved in all respects unsatisfactory references, ill repaying the time bestowed on their examination. It will be necessary to allude more particularly, in our twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth chapters, to such of their authors as belonged to the court of Urbino; meanwhile we may mention a few works dedicated to Federigo by learned men in other parts of Italy, from which it would seem that the rival systems of Plato and Aristotle shared his attention and patronage.

Ptolemy's geography was translated into Latin verse by Berlinghieri, who inscribed to Federigo the result of his ill-bestowed toil, in a splendid MS., richly illuminated, which remains in the Brera library. The published work was also issued in 1480, under sanction of his name, as was the translation of another work of Ptolemy by Pontano. To these Baldi adds Marsilio Ficino's Epistles on the Platonic Theology and translation of Plato's Dialogue de Regno, Alemanno Rinuccini's translations of Aristotle and Philostratus, Paolo Marso's Commentary upon the Fasti of Ovid, NicolÒ Perotto's Cornucopia, Poggio's Historia Populi Florentini, as specimens of a catalogue which might be greatly lengthened.[177] In the volume of his own MS. letters already often quoted, we find him thanking Naldo of Florence for his poem on the Volterran expedition, and acknowledging the Disputationes Camaldulenses of Cristoforo Landino. Writing to Donato Acciaiuolo, he avows the pleasure and advantage derived from perusing his Commentaries on a book of ethics, and expresses satisfaction that he had succeeded in persuading him to undertake a similar work on politics, for which he thanks him in a subsequent letter, apologising for having detained his messenger until he had read a great portion of it with the utmost pleasure, and enjoining reliance on his friendship and services.[178]

Before leaving the subject of dedications, we may quote the following singular illustration of literary history.

"To the Lord and most excellent Captain-at-arms, the Lord Federigo of Montefeltro, Count of Urbino, Lord of Gubbio, and most illustrious Captain-general of the League, our especial Lord, &c.; the Priors of Arezzo.

"Gambino, the poet, is ranked by us among our most regarded and well-beloved citizens, on account both of his distinguished talents and of his peaceful and unoffending life. As a curious inquirer into history and antiquities, he cannot be unaware of the great goodwill and affection which for many ages has subsisted between your illustrious progenitors and this our city. Indeed, these facts have been hitherto so trite and public that they are notorious to the rude and unlettered, as well as to the learned and accomplished. Gambino, therefore, like a good man, thinking to promote the benefit of his country by devoting his genius to the cultivation of that old-established and constant good understanding, has dedicated and inscribed to your Lordship a work lately composed by him in praise of the Virgin Mary. He, indeed, merits all commendation in seeking first the kingdom of heaven, according to the precept of our Saviour, but it would be well that he descend sometimes to worldly topics. And as in heaven no creature is more glorious than the blessed Virgin, so, if the praises of the heroes of our age be the subject, who on earth can be called, believed, or accounted more distinguished for bravery, more considered for military discipline or martial fame, than your Lordship? Should any one differ from this sentiment, we object not to his lending us a feigned assent, but he who appears to contest it must by all persons of sense be considered ridiculous and prejudiced. We, therefore, pray your Lordship to accept Gambino and his little offering with courtesy and favour, as it is your wont to receive others of eminent talents and learning; for we doubt not but that your favour will supply his genius with a new stimulus and inducement to enter upon and accomplish those pursuits which we desire to see him undertake. And should your Lordship's elevated and enlarged mind even light-lay the praises of men, so be it. And we further beseech your Lordship to adopt the sentiment of our Community, which justly desires that its citizens and scholars may attain, by their writings and poetry, as great celebrity as the glorious deeds which they celebrate will permit."[179]