  I have now said as much as I feel to be requisite by way of explaining and supplementing my father’s versified Autobiography, and shall proceed to give some further illustrative matter in the form of five Appendices. 1. Extracts from six of the domestic letters of Gabriele Rossetti. 2. Extracts from eight of those which he addressed to Mr Charles Lyell on the subject of his Dantesque and other literary researches. 3. Extracts from three letters of the Barone Kirkup regarding Dante, etc. 4. Twelve letters from Mazzini—all but one addressed to Rossetti. 5. Six specimens of Rossetti’s poetry. Under each of these five headings I add a few explanatory remarks. No. 1.—From Six Letters from Gabriele Rossetti to his Wife I give these letters (translated by me) for what they are worth; not as being of any singular degree of interest in A.[Mr Potter, here mentioned, was Mr Cipriani Potter, Principal of the Royal Academy of Music, a distinguished pianist, and composer of pianoforte-music. He was my godfather, and his family was the only British family of which our household saw a goodish deal in these early years. I infer that “the drama” which my father had written, and which was to be paid for with £40, was a set of scenes named Medora e Corrado (after Byron’s Corsair),—Mr Potter having been concerned in composing music to these scenes: such a sum as £40 appears to be ample remuneration for it. “Mrs Fitch” was our servant at this date: I have naturally no recollection of Dante Gabriel’s performance which amused her, nor yet of Signor Barile. Henry and Charlotte, named along with Barile, were my Uncle and Aunt: also Robert and Eliza.] [38 Charlotte Street, London.] 4th May 1831. My dearest Frances, No doubt you have been indignant at my long silence, full fourteen days. Don’t attribute it to want of love, but to my wish to write you something which might partly relieve the anxiety which you only too much share with me. Know therefore, dear wife, that our affairs are proceeding less amiss. At the present date I have seventeen lessons a week, and I am expecting others.... Mr Potter, who sends his best regards, saw me this morning, and he told me that Mrs Howard also will soon resume her lessons; and he expressly added, of his own accord, that it seems to be time for him to give me the £40 for the drama. I hope to put you, on your return, in possession of some £80 at home; and perhaps we shall be getting as much at the end of the season. Be in good spirits then, Frances mine, because that God who gives nourishment to worms in the earth will not abandon us, with our four little children, innocent and in need. I have not slackened in trying for King’s College, and many persons have interested themselves in my behalf. The Principe di Cimitile, who recommended me to some member of the Council of the College, learned from him that the election of Professors depends chiefly on the Bishop of London; and I quickly procured two letters of introduction to the Bishop. Mr Barclay, who is his intimate friend, gave me one, and the other came from Sir Gore Ouseley, who has also handed me two others for two patrons of the College. I trust that Providence will second my efforts. The affairs of Italy also resume a better aspect; and it is officially notified that the French Government has sent a representative to Rome, to dissuade from shedding the blood Two or three days after your departure I received another letter from Mr Lyell, in which he asks me briefly to suspend sending him the MS. you wot of, as he was about to start for a different part of England; adding that by the end of a month he would come in person to see us in London. I fancy that he has gone to present himself as a candidate for the new Parliament. People are all in motion for this purpose; but it seems that Reform will triumph, and the anti-reformers will get more and more into the mire. God forbid that this Bill should not pass—there would certainly be a revolution. All say so, and the symptoms are manifest.... I trust that you and our children have always been well: speak of them to me one by one when you write. I was so much pleased at what you told me about Gabriel in your last; and it made Mrs Fitch laugh so that she recounted it to all who came here—Henry, Charlotte, and also Signor Barile.... Salute cordially for me Robert and Eliza: God give them patience with those four babbykins, and especially with that dear impertinent, Gabriel. In your last you told me nothing about either William or Christina: make up for your omission. Every syllable you write about them is a boon to me.... Your loving Gabriele. B.[Mr Tallent, here mentioned, was the medical adviser of the family at Holmer Green; Mr MacIntyre (living near Portland Place) was often consulted towards this time in [38 Charlotte Street, London.] 15th May 1832. My dearest Frances, ... I should indeed like to see our skittish Christina, with those rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, so like her grandmother’s, walking all alone about the garden, like a little butterfly among the flowers. I hope that, thanks to the beneficial change of air, I shall soon see her still prettier and still healthier than you describe her to me now. To tell you the truth, I think Mr Tallent’s advice is better than Mr MacIntyre’s. It is high time to wean her.... You cannot think how much pleasure those childish English words which you gathered from the lips of Maria and Gabriel gave me. If they are truthful, I thank Heaven that they are good children, and that they do not tire your mother too much with their noise and their impudence. I mean to send them some new little picture-books which will amuse them; and also a box of figs, in order that you may at times reward their good behaviour and satisfy their small greed. Poor little things! They used to await my return home so eagerly, so as to receive the trifles I had brought them! And now neither they nor I have that pleasure.... This evening Casella arrived here quite out of breath to announce that the King has again dismissed the Duke of Let us take heart, Providence will not forsake us. You know, my wife, that we have had recent proofs of its assistance; here is another. Yesterday the son of the Maestro Negri called on me bringing me the answer from those young ladies who, as you know, wished for a drama; he showed me a letter from them in which the matter is revived. I have had to lower my price, however, and content myself with thirty guineas.... Two days ago, a great Italian littÉrateur, Professor Orioli, head of the Bologna University, and head of the Italian Government during last year’s revolution, visited me, and paid me a great compliment on my new work. Mr Scrope, with whom I dined last Saturday, also said some very laudatory things about it, which he based on the opinion of Mr Charles, who had read it; the latter afterwards expressed his admiration to me in person. Last week I wrote two The day before yesterday I bought myself a pair of spectacles, which I felt badly in need of; and now, if you could see what an imposing figure I cut, and what a grave air they give me, it would inspire even you with respect. When you return you will certainly take me for a president. I will not tell you how much they cost, because you would immediately conclude that my spectacles were bad, and yet they serve their purpose wonderfully well.... Hitherto my stupid prophecy has not been at all fulfilled, and this letter is witness to the fact: and I pray to God that he may not fulfil it till I have been able, with your help, to educate and give a start in life to our four dear offshoots, who have rendered life extremely dear to me; and I hope to pass it in your sweet company, in that reciprocal affection which has hitherto bound us together.... Your most affectionate husband, Gabriele. C.[The “garden” here spoken of is the enclosure of Park Square, Regent’s Park; I can remember being in it more than once in early childhood. Sangiovanni, a strange impetuous southern Italian, was now an artist-modeller in clay. Dr Maroncelli was a brother of the prisoner who was sent to the Spielberg along with Silvio Pellico, as recorded in Pellico’s book, once highly celebrated, Le Mie Prigioni. “My letter for the King of Naples” appears to have been a memorial or petition. Pistrucci (Filippo) had been run down in London [38 Charlotte Street, London.] 29th May 1832. My dearly loved Frances, I would that I had not received your letter this time, although I had looked forward to it and desired it so eagerly. Every word you wrote pierced like a dagger into my heart. My sweetest Gabriel, then, is so ill! My baby Christina suffers with her teeth and has wounded her forehead! Oh my poor children! If the distance were less great, I would come immediately to see my four treasures, and you, my beloved wife, who must be immensely afflicted, as I am myself. And William, you tell me nothing about him. You told me in your last letter that he had a return of those fevers from which he suffered here: and now, how is that going on?—how is he? As you do not speak about it, I will hope and trust that he has recovered. Be good enough, dear Frances, to write to me at once and tell me all about them; hide from me nothing, absolutely nothing. I wish to know the facts, be they better or be they worse.... I beg you, I beg you urgently, to return immediately if Gabriel’s condition permits. I wish to share with you the care of my bantlings. I would never have written you this but for this painful circumstance, but would have been content to remain a cheerless hermit for another month; but, now that I see that your presence instead of improving only aggravates the condition of your honoured mother to whom we owe every consideration, now that I see that our children, instead of benefiting by the country air, have rather derived harm from it (although I ought perhaps to Here, meanwhile, is one cause for rejoicing. I have already obtained the key of the garden for which you so often wished.... I have already been five times for a stroll in the garden, the first time alone, the second time with Polidori, the third with him and Sangiovanni, the fourth again with him and Doctor Maroncelli, one of those two who called on me one evening in company with Lablache. This walk is very convenient, and the children will find plenty of space to walk and run about here and there.... I have already written three scenes of that play for the young ladies, which I have given to the son of Maestro Negri.... Count Lucchesi has told me a thing which he had never mentioned to me before. When he went with my letter to the King of Naples, about which you heard, he found the Minister of Naples reading my last work, dedicated to Mr Lyell. The Minister said to him: “What a talented man this Rossetti is! You see what persons the government of Naples exiles!” It is well, dear Frances, that this diplomatist should not I will close this letter begging you again to write to me at once, during the course of this week. Remember that until I hear from you again I shall be extremely agitated. Don’t conceal anything from me, I repeat. If you did so, you would force me to rush off to you like a madman, to ascertain with my own eyes the real state of things. Besides which it might cause me a somewhat serious ill; since for some six days I have felt distressing and strong symptoms of gout, which causes me much uneasiness. I needn’t ask you to look after the children, because I hold it unnecessary; I know you too well. I doubt whether there lives a better mother than you, and a wife more amiable and affectionate has yet to be born. And so your husband idolizes you, and his sincerest love increases with years, and he considers himself fortunate in possessing such a rare woman. Goodbye, dearly loved Frances, I am going to bed for it is one o’clock. I bless one by one the infant pledges of our love, and invoke on them health and prosperity. Kiss them for me, speak about me to them, and—along with theirs—preserve your precious health, which is my greatest treasure. Yesterday poor Pistrucci wrote me a letter which really is fit to make one weep. He says he is suffering horrible torments, and it has been discovered that his thigh was broken in three parts, so that he is crippled. Poor man! Your most affectionate husband, Gabriele Rossetti. D.[I have no recollection of the Marchesa Marchigiana, nor of Signor Ferri. The physiognomical estimate of Signor Janer is curious, because that gentleman, a cultivated Tuscan whom we saw continually in these years, was regarded as somewhat prone to backbiting; he was always, however, on good terms with my father and his family, and I should say that he was really amicable with all of us. Margaret, named towards the end of the letter, was my mother’s elder sister.] 50 Charlotte Street [London]. 6th September 1836. My dearest Frances, ... At the moment of my writing a very deluge is coming down—lightning, thunder, buckets of water. I am sorry for poor Gabriel, who is out for a walk with Henry.... That Marchesa Marchigiana left yesterday morning (Sunday), and in the last two days she called on me thrice. On the evening of Saturday she came at eight, and left at midnight. She talked for ten. She expressed great concern for your illness, and exclaimed several times—“Oh, if I had seen her, I would have made her know what a husband she possesses!” To hear her, I am the idol of Italy. She knows by heart a great quantity of my verses, some of which I had as good as forgotten. Suffice it to say that she knows more of them than Curci, and is more enthusiastic than Curci about me and my doings. But the greatest wonder is that she recites long snatches of my Analytic Comment on the Divina Commedia. She told me that, being unable to procure it in print (as it The best of it is that another gentleman from Lugo has arrived, Conte Carducci, who brings me a letter from Comendator Borgia (a descendant of that scoundrel Alexander VI.), and both Carducci and Borgia speak to me in the same style.... This shows once again that the physical optics are the reverse of the imaginary; for, as by physics distant objects seem to us small, so by imagination small objects, the further off they are, seem the larger. I should be almost afraid of returning, even if I could, so that I might not verify that saying, Minuit prÆsentia famam. The Marchesa gave us a proof of her physiognomic science which made me and Sangiovanni laugh a great deal. She saw here Janer, whom she knew not in the least, and who showed her a thousand civilities. After Janer had left, she, who had treated him distantly, called me aside, and said: “Beware of that man, who has the face of a great intriguer and a very cunning fellow.” Isn’t this queer?... With her came a very handsome young man from Fermo, named Ferri, nephew of Cardinal Ferri. He, on hearing the nature of your illness, spoke of one of his of the same class, from which he has recovered to the most perfect health. He was reduced, as he described it, to a truly deplorable condition, from which he rallied by continual exercise; and if one sees him now! “Di due rivali i pregi in sÈ compone— Marte alla forza, alla bellezza Adone—” (old verses of mine). So, my dear Frances, take as much exercise as you can.... Lo and behold, the day is again beautiful, and what a brilliant sun! Truly the climate of London is more changeable than a Frenchwoman. Gabriel is knocking with that double knock of his like the postman. I trust he avoided the rain under some shelter—will go and ask. He has returned all drenched, and Margaret will make him change clothes.... I embrace you, and bless Maria. Repeat to her that her letter gave me great pleasure; and tell her that I expect one in Italian, which will serve not only to show me how you are, when you don’t want to be writing yourself, but also to keep her in the practice of the language of “the beautiful land.” Believe me, full of unalterable affection, Your Husband, Gabriele. E.[50 Charlotte Street, London. 21st October 1836.] My dearest Frances, Ever since you informed us that the day of your longed-for return would be the 25th of this October (which will complete two full months of your absence) we have never ceased to count, every day, how many days remain before reaching the one which is to restore you to us. The most steady computer of this sum is Christina. This morning, barely just out of bed, she came in great glee into the room where I was studying, and the first words she spoke were these—“Not counting to-day, only three days remain” (you will understand that the day of my writing is Friday evening). And I’m sure that to-morrow morning she will come and say, “There are only two remaining.” ... If you will tell us at about what hour you will arrive at the Coach-office, we will all come to meet you, and will bring you home in triumph, outbidding the most pompous ovations of ancient Rome.... Oh that I had two arms as long as from here to Holmer Green! you would find your neck clasped of a sudden by the warmest marital embrace, and you would then be softly seized hold of and deposited in Charlotte Street, saving you the trouble of the journey by the road: yours should be aËrial, to beat those of Mrs Graham and Mr Green.... The true, the one treasure of my life is my dear Frances, and to restore her to me renewed in health is to restore my existence. Goodbye to the better portion of myself. Three days hence you, by God’s Your Husband, Gabriele. F.[Dante Gabriel had been commissioned by his godfather, Mr Lyell, to paint an oil-portrait of our father; he was now, after some seeming neglectfulness, giving full attention to the matter. The portrait, nearly his first painting, turned out a creditable work; it remains in the Lyell family, the property of Sir Leonard Lyell, and is reproduced in this volume.] [50 Charlotte Street, London.] 21st August 1848. My dearest Frances, I have the satisfaction of informing you that this (Monday) morning our Gabriel has for an hour and a half been working at my portrait in colours, which appears to me to come very like, if I can trust my poor eyesight, and the exclamations of our emphatic Maria. Moreover, I asked Gabriel whether he would go on to-morrow, and he replied yes. If he takes a fancy to it, he will not leave off until he has finished the work; you know that character of his better than myself. I am fain to hope that all I wrote you in my recent letter was only the outcome of the over-much anxiety of a father who gets distressed at any appearance of evil in what concerns a beloved son.... DANTE GABRIEL AND WILLIAM ROSSETTI I had hoped yesterday to see Pistrucci, whom I supposed likely to come to London, to promote the concert for the benefit of the Italian School. But I was disappointed. I trust he was not offended at that outburst I sent him regarding the demagogues who have contributed to the present ruin of Italy. He, as the perfectly sincere patriot whom all men recognize, must deplore, or rather detest, whatever can have been a cause of the pitiful state to which our country is reduced. But let us hope that the disaster is reparable, and I am certain that his heart desires this no less fervently than my own. I am aware of the glorious event at Bologna, where the Germans got a good lesson. May this be the glorious beginning of a still more glorious re-arising! I know that France and England have become mediators between Italy and Austria in this bloody strife; may they be sincere and effectual mediators for the good of both, and may the reasonable liberty of our poor country result from their efforts! Not every evil comes to do harm—an old adage: let us hope this may be so in our case. Perhaps the republican over-zeal will be toned down, after the events which we are deploring.... Now that I can give you better news from home, I remain with a more cheerful heart Your loving Husband, G. Rossetti. No. 2.—From Eight Letters from Gabriele Rossetti to Charles Lyell, Kinnordy [As to Mr Lyell, see p. 72. I give the following extracts, bearing upon Rossetti’s theories and speculations regarding Dante and a great number of other writers, not because I suppose him to have been constantly right in detail, nor even as adopting his views in a broad sense, but because the There is another copious correspondence which my father carried on regarding the like topics—that with Mr Hookham Frere. I possess the letters of Mr Frere appertaining to this correspondence, and also (through the courtesy of Mr John Tudor Frere and Miss Festing) those of Rossetti. I had at one time thought of publishing ample extracts from this series; but ultimately I found it more suitable to place the correspondence at the disposal of Miss Festing, who, in her interesting book named John Hookham Frere and his Friends (1899), has drawn upon it so far as was consistent A.29th October 1831. My very dear Sir, ... I have by me decisive historical records and documents, researches into works in the sect-language, Never will I set it down, never, that there was a project of expelling Jesus Christ from the altars—only that there was a project for restoring His worship to its primitive simplicity, and that they profaned the Catholic doctrine by a concerted phraseology which involved a political scheme. Wherefore scandalize the world by the revelation of a daring purpose which may do discredit to illustrious authors, and bring down upon myself the ill-will of the sect which still exists, and has power and influence in the social world? The fact is that the true intention of that secret society, to which belonged all the authors whom I am engaged in examining, manifested itself plainly in the effects of the French Revolution at the close of last century.... Reghellini says openly that Dante’s poem is a Masonic poem; and, before he wrote this, I had already seen it for myself.... I have also made some examination of English poetry—that of the time of Cromwell; I know, however, and know for certain, that Chaucer is in the same boat.... Your highly obliged Gabriele Rossetti. B.1st October 1832. My very dear Sir, ... It is impossible to continue without exhibiting the most intimate mysteries of the sect, seeing I see with regret that the assertion of many Sectarian writers, and among others of Swedenborg, is not without foundation—namely, that the religion founded upon the New Testament is, in fact, the religion which they profess, of which we practise the letter, and they possess the spirit: we are the outer church, and they form the hereditary priesthood. Be this true or false, great indeed is the illusion which it assails; I now comprehend why the Mysterium Magnum was never manifested to the world. It is confided to very few persons, of well-approved prudence, and at an age of thorough maturity; and to discover it by one’s own scrutiny is a work of immense labour, and (I will venture to say) of no ordinary talent.... I know that Mr Frere belongs to the secret order; and, having perceived what it is that I have already discovered by analysis and reasoning, he fears lest I should reveal it to the world. I am not so mad as to plan detriment to society, and to myself.... With regard to the chapter, Dante personified in Adam, this, though not demonstrated in full, has none the less a great basis of proofs in other chapters; and its substance is that Dante was the inventor of that simulated religious language. Perhaps, on reading some additions which I have made, you will more strongly feel the reality of the thesis.... Your much obliged Servant, Gabriele Rossetti. C.15th May 1833. My very dear Sir, “Non io, se cento bocche avessi e cento Lingue, con ferrea lena e ferreo petto,” not if I were to talk for a hundred years with the eloquence of Cicero himself, could I sufficiently thank you for having first mentioned and then sent to me the Donna Immaginaria In these recent days I have made some most important discoveries in the Convito: of these I will give you a hint, but only a hint, as the thing would be lengthy to expound. Being persuaded that the Convito is the exposition, in the sect-language, of the Commedia and its secrets, I, observing that Dante dwells so much upon explaining the cosmographical construction of heaven and earth, and confident that he must be speaking of his poem, have been minded to follow the track which he indicates; and I have found (mirabile dictu!) that all corresponds to the poem. Begin reading at p. 153 (Zatta’s edition), here at the end; “This heaven turns round this centre continually,” etc.; all that he says—verily all—expounds the arcane structure of his poetic machinery, and discloses its secret device.... Your much obliged G. Rossetti. D.13th January 1836. Very dear Sir and Excellent Friend, ... The interpretation of the Vita Nuova depends upon knowing what portions of it are to be taken first, and what portions are to be taken last. This enigmatic booklet contains thirty-three compositions (vide your Index), relating to the thirty-three cantos of each section of the Commedia. These thirty-three poetic compositions are to be divided into three parts, according to those three sections, and to the three predominant canzoni of the Vita Nuova. The central canzone, which is “Donna pietosa,” is the head On this side and on that follow the two canzoni, placed symmetrically—viz. “Donne che avete intelletto d’amore” on the left, and “Gli occhi dolenti per pietÀ del core” on the right. In the former it is decided that Beatrice is to die; in the second, Beatrice dead is lamented; and the one canzone explains the other. And thus, proceeding from one side to the other, collating the ten compositions to the right with the ten to the left, we come finally to the first and the last sonnets of the Vita Nuova, which contain two visions; and the last vision, “Oltre la spera che piÙ larga gira,” explains the first vision, “A ciascun’alma presa e gentil core.” When the interpretation goes on these lines, this sonnet becomes as clear as possible. Dante, assuming his reader to be already cognizant of the mystical language, and to be capable of solving by this process his work which has the character of a knot, wrote: “The true judgment as to the said sonnet was not then seen by any one, but now it is manifest to the simplest.”... The central part [of the Vita Nuova], which constitutes the Beatrice Nine, Recently I have been applying myself to a study of the first Holy Fathers of the primitive Church; and they say plainly that they, in the inner Sacerdotal School, explained the mysteries of religion, protesting at the same time that they could reveal nothing of this to the profane. I have passages from St Basil, a light of the Greek Church, which show that these personages acted like the gentile school.... Your truly devoted and obliged G. Rossetti. E.14th January 1836. Very dear Sir and Friend, ... The object or system of the secret school, in explaining the mysteries, is to show that those whom we take for beings existing outside of ourselves, and who are represented to us as such by the Christian doctrine, are none other than our internal ideas or affections; that is to say, that those supernatural personages who are exhibited to men as divine are the human faculties themselves, personified by ancient secret art; and that these figurative personages merge the one into the other, and interpenetrate and unify in one sole being—namely, in Man. The ultimate revelation. This is equally the system of Dante, both in the Divine Comedy and in the Vita Nuova—which latter gives the keys of the former.... Origen and Tertullian, as well as Synesius, Bishop of Cyrene, give in the sect-language the keys to the whole New Testament, and partly to the Old:... the selfsame explanation which is given in the mysteries of the present still-subsisting sect. From the writings of the latter I gather that the secret school of the Christian priesthood is continued by Masonry; that one of the heads of the school in Constantine’s time, Sylvester, came to an understanding with that despot to suppress the secret explanation, and to retain merely the formula of the external figures, which understanding produced the papacy or priesthood of Rome; but that other chiefs of the same school, indignant at his having sold the interests of mankind to the secular power, severed themselves from him and persisted in the secret teaching,—which went on to the late ages (and here we arrive at Dante), and so continued up to our own times. F.16th December 1836. My very dear Sir, I cannot sufficiently express to you how much pleasure it affords me to hear from you, “What you have written Despite every effort, the nature of the argument wells forth of itself, and almost overflows the dykes which I labour to erect and strengthen. And I regret to tell you (far from Your very affectionate and oblige G. Rossetti. G.21st July 1840. My very dear Sir, ... I could send you a hundred things of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries which I have amassed in my extracts. I will limit myself to two sonnets “Un pensier dolce È rimembrare, e godo.” Raphael’s second sonnet. He, having descended from the third heaven (like St Paul), writes thus: “Come non potÈ dir d’arcana Dei Paolo come disceso fÙ dal cielo, CosÌ il mio cor d’un amoroso velo Ha ricoperto tutt’i pensier miei. PerÒ che quanto io vidi e quanto fei (in the third heaven) Per gaudio taccio che nel petto celo; E prima cangerÒ nel fronte il pelo Che mai l’obbligo volger pensier rei.” ... Pico della Mirandola, Molza, and other contemporaries, Oh how much can be gathered from the Latin writings of Poliziano! Far more than even from those of Tasso.... Your greatly obliged and obedient G. Rossetti. H.1st February 1842. My very dear Sir, ... Have you ever read Le Livre Mystique of De Balzac, a living French author—a book published in 1836? Read it, for it is truly curious. It is divided into three parts, and expounds mysticism in mystic language, somewhat less obscure than in the ancient works of like kind. In the first part he introduces a certain Louis Lambert as expounder of mysticism; in the second he introduces Dante at the school of Sigier in Paris, “al Vico degli Strami, Sillogizzando invidiosi veri”: Your most attached G. Rossetti. No. 3.—From Three Letters from Seymour [Barone] Kirkup to Gabriele Rossetti [Mr Seymour Kirkup, an English painter and man of letters established in Florence, became an enthusiastic adherent to Rossetti’s scheme of Dantesque interpretation, from reading his Comment on the Inferno and his Spirito Antipapale. In his later years he was made a Barone of the Italian Kingdom, and he died at a great age towards 1880. The following extracts relate chiefly to the deeply interesting discovery, in which he bore a very principal part, of the portrait of Dante by Giotto in the Chapel of the PodestÀ, in the Bargello of Florence.] A.Florence, 12th September 1840. My very excellent Friend, Yours of the 22nd July came safe with the Sonnet, “O della mente eterna immago e prole.” It is very I have delayed writing in the hopes of sending you a sketch which will interest you, but I have hitherto been disappointed. We have made a discovery of an original portrait of Dante in fresco by Giotto! Although I was a magna pars in this undertaking, the Jacks in Office have not allowed me yet to make a copy. Sono tanto gelosi, most likely afraid I should publish it and prevent some friends of their own reaping all the profit they hope from that speculation. I was the person who first mentioned to Sig. Bezzi, a Piedmontese and friend of Carlo Eastlake’s, the existence of the portrait under the whitewash of three centuries. We were joined by an American, and we three undertook at our expense to employ a restorer to uncover the walls of the old chapel in the palace of the PodestÀ in search of the portrait—mentioned by F. Villani, Filelfo, L. Aretino, Vasari, Cinelli, etc. Nothing but the constancy and talent of Sig. Bezzi could have overcome the numberless obstacles and refusals The precise date of the painting is not known. The poet looks about 28—very handsome—un Apollo colle fattezze di Dante. The expression and character are worthy of the subject, and much beyond what I expected from Giotto. Raphael might own it with honour. Add to which it is not the mask of a corpse of 56—a ruin—but a fine, noble image of the Hero of Campaldino, the Lover of Beatrice. The costume very interesting—no beard or even a lock of hair. A white cap, over which a white capuccio, lined with dark red showing the edge turned back. A parchment book under his arm—perhaps the Vita Nuova. It is in a group of many others—one seems Charles II. of Naples. Brunetto Latini and Corso Donati are mentioned by the old authors. I send herewith a pamphlet by Prof. Nannucci—very curious and very interesting respecting Dante—and a dose for the Crusca. I wrote to you by Mr Craufurd, who took charge of the medal, and sent two pamphlets by him, one for Mr Taylor—and two letters of thanks, one to him and one to Mr Lyell; but I fear by what you say in your last letter you have never received them. Mr C[raufurd] is a friend of Eastlake’s, who Yours most sincerely, Seymour Kirkup. B.Florence, 14th September 1841. My dear Friend, By the time you receive this, I hope that the portrait of Dante, for you, will be in London. The gentleman who has taken charge of it was in such haste to leave the country (from the consequences of a fatal duel) that I had not an opportunity for writing. You will receive, in fact, three portraits. They are as follows:— No. 1. A drawing in chalk, on light-brown paper, of the face as large as the original. I had intended to write a memorandum on it, but in my hurry it was forgotten. Perhaps you would have the kindness to add it, if you think it worth while—viz. “Drawn by S. K., and traced with talc, on the original fresco by Giotto; discovered in the Chapel of the Palazzo del PodestÀ, Florence, on the 21st July 1840, before it was retouched.” No. 2. A small sketch in water-colours, giving the colours of the dress, and the heads supposed to be of Corso Donati and Brunetto Latini. No. 3. A Lithography by the painter and restorer Marini, I thought it useful to send you these in order to give you a better idea of this very interesting discovery—Dante, under 30 years of age. With respect to No. 1, it is fixed with glue-water, and will not rub out with common usage. The only thing it is liable to is the cracking or bending of the paper, which sometimes in a face alters the expression. Since I drew it, I have had the mortification to see the original retouched, and its beauty destroyed. You will perceive that the eye is wanting. A deep hole in the wall was found exactly on that spot, as if done on purpose. It was necessary to fill it that it might not extend further: not content, they ordered Sig. Marini to paint the eye on it, and he has daubed over the face in many parts, to the ruin of its expression and character. It is now 15 years older, a mean, pinched expression, and an effeminate character, compared to what it was. It is not quite so bad as the lithography I send you, but not far from it. When I saw what was done, I asked a young man, his assistant, if it was done with colours in tempera, and he assured me, with a boast, that it was in bon fresco. If so, Dante is gone for good. But I have still hopes that he spoke only of the eye, and many of my friends think it can only be accomplished on the old and hard painting by some distemper-colour of glue, size, or egg; and, if so, a damp cloth fixed on it for half-an-hour will bring it all away without injuring the original fresco. I mean to take my time, and perhaps some day I may restore Dante to himself a second time. I had the principal part in the late discovery. The lithography I send you is exceedingly unlike and incorrect, although a tracing. In shading and finishing he We are in daily expectation of the arrival of The Book of Mystery. The scientific meeting of Florence commences to-morrow, and ends on the 8th Oct. It opens with a grand Mass of Spontini, in the Church of S. Croce. Galileo’s shrine will be the favourite of the four great Tuscans—besides whom, there is a host of secondary stars: F. Barberini, C. Marsuppini, Leonardo Aretino, Lami, Mascagni, Alfieri, Rinuccini, Alberti, etc., etc., etc. Do you know the Improvisatore Regaldi? and his Carme a Firenze—written about three years ago. There are some lines on the subject of S. Croce. God bless you, my dear friend, and allow me once more to thank you for all your kindness, and to subscribe myself Most sincerely yours, Seymour Kirkup. Best remembrances to Sig. Carlo (Eastlake, his name in Rome). The name of the bearer of the portrait is Plowden. He is a banker of Florence, and may be heard of at Messrs Harris & Farquhar, Bankers, of London. He will send it you, I hope, or leave it himself. C.Florence, 5th February 1843. My dear Friend, Let me add my thanks to the rest of the world for the mental enjoyment afforded by your Beatrice. My share is the greater for the handsome and honourable mention you make of me. I am proud of your approbation and good opinion, and am doubly grateful for the rank in For my own part, I have found the Ragionamento in part a renewal and condensation of what I had already learned from your former works, divided and spread through them. In this first Ragionamento you have not given the demonstration (I suppose it will follow in a succeeding one) of Boccaccio’s fault respecting May-Day, which is so complete and curious in the Misteri Platonici.... The most important of your decisions is confirmed and strengthened in this volume: I mean your identification of Beatrice and Filosofia. Your three reasons at the top of p. 20 are new and unanswerable. How completely Dante blindfolds the superficial reader (which I was, till you taught me to fathom him) by making one believe that the lady at the window was mundane philosophy, and that Beatrice, or Divine Science, reproaches Dante in Purgatory for having yielded to her attractions for a short time.... I am so engrossed by your work that I am carried away and not answering your very kind and most friendly letter. A thousand thanks for it. I know how your time is filled, You desire all my “opposizioni.” Lord help me! Can I find an error or two of the press?... I am longing for the next Ragionamento; I don’t know if others want much more to convince them, but in general the first part seems to have had that effect. Mr Lyell judges me, as you do, too partially. All I have learned I owe to you; and I confess to you that I have often found it difficult, even with your powerful help, to remove the substantial screen which Dante has built up purposely to conceal and protect his secret. But, when I think of you, who have, alone and single-handed, knocked over so many formidable barriers, and shown us the gardens and roses, the groves, the apples, the laurels, the olives, the flowers, the stags, and all the magic machinery of secret romance, I am lost in thinking how you found your way in such a labyrinth, and what immense and curious courses of reading you must have gone through, turning all you obtained to the accomplishing your will and determination to penetrate an untrod region, without a track or vestige to guide you. I wish I had the ability to write a description I observe what you say on the subject of necessary reserve on certain subjects. You are quite right. You cannot be too careful in your situation and with your family. From your letter I see that your opinions are nearer mine than I supposed. But, as I am living out of the world and am perfectly free from it, I can safely be as explicit as I please. I have no reserve, and, if ever the cause require a word beyond the customary and necessary limits, call upon me to say it, or say anything for me against priestcraft and kingcraft. That is my religion. I don’t wonder at Mr Lyell’s exultation at your Beatrice. There are some master-touches amongst the new proofs, both in matter and manner, both close reasoning and light.... The three pomegranates in Giotto’s fresco are so uncertain in their appearance, from injury and time, that I was doubtful about them, but a word from you decides the question in my mind. They are chipped and much obliterated; and, from their seeming a sort of double outline, and no shade or colour but the yellow drapery on which they are painted, I took them for an embroidery on the breast of the Barone. Some remains of fingers and stalk, however, had led the Your whole-length portrait of yourself is full of nature and character, and therefore it must be very like: I thank you for it. And here is mine:—a little thin old man, 54, formerly dark, now very grey. Fond of fun, but not often tempted to indulge in it, and seldom depressed. Living alone in an old tower with two dogs only—a servant coming daily for a few hours. Disliking much to go into company, and especially to dress in cold weather, being slovenly even in my younger days. I live very temperately and never take wine. I am very active, more from lightness than strength, for I feel the effects of years and illness. Just now I boast, for I have had extraordinary health this autumn and winter. I paint a little, and read a good deal. I ought to do more in both, with opportunities and perfect liberty, but I am slow and stupid. My memory, too, is weaker than it was. Lord Vernon has twice desired me to present his best compliments and remembrances to you. He hopes you have received his book (through Molini). There is an outline in it from my tracing of Dante’s head, and, though it is not very correct, it is the best yet done.... When will your new edition of Iddio e l’Uomo come out? I admired it much in its former state. Forgive the length of this letter, and remember me to Eastlake and Keightley. Believe me, with sincere affection, Your faithful friend, Seymour Kirkup. No. 4.—Letters (or Extracts from Letters) from Giuseppe Mazzini—Eleven to Rossetti, and one to another Correspondent The following are the only letters from Mazzini that remain among my father’s papers—except some other three or four, too trifling to be printed. The originals are naturally in Italian; the translation is mine. Letters A. and B. relate to a certain Galassi and Vantini, whom I do not remember, but the letters explain themselves well enough. Mention is also made of a “little book” by my father, which was Rome towards the Middle of the Nineteenth Century. Letters C, D, and E, refer to a school which was got up in London, by some leading resident Italians interested in the lot of their fellow-countrymen, for the instruction of the poorer and hitherto much neglected members of the colony—organ-grinders, plaster-cast vendors, models, waiters, journeymen, etc. The ice-cream purveyor did not exist at that remote date. This school, held in the Hatton Garden quarter, went on for some few years, dignified by the countenance of Mazzini, and greatly indebted to the practical work of (among others) Filippo Pistrucci, who was a painter, teacher, writer, and improvisatore, brother of the celebrated medallist. Rossetti of course concurred, but without taking any very active part. Letters F, G, and H, refer mainly to a MS. which my father wished to send to Paris—being, I take it, the selection of his poems, many of them youthful, which were published at Lausanne, under the title Versi. There is also some mention of the Conte Giuseppe Ricciardi, named on p. 91 of the present book. He belonged to the Mazzinian sect, but sometimes kicked against the traces, and one can see in the correspondence that the great chief found him on A few notes of my own on minor points are appended to the correspondence. Besides the eleven letters to my father, I give one letter, of far larger purport, which is quite unconnected with my family. It was lately purchased by a daughter of mine, simply as an autograph. On the purport of this document I need not enlarge, as it speaks for itself. It stands numbered at the close “15” in Mazzini’s handwriting, and would seem therefore to be one missive in a sustained correspondence. The recipient (or some one) has written upon it in Italian, “Letter from Giuseppe Mazzini”; moreover, the peculiar handwriting is quite unmistakable. It bears no date, and, for reasons readily surmisable, no postmark. In the course of the letter the addressee is spoken of as “My Corso”: I presume, therefore, that his surname may have been Corso, but this might also be a Christian name, or might merely The letter shows that the addressee had some relations with Vincenzo Gioberti, the celebrated Churchman and Minister of State, whose leading work, Il Primato d’Italia, was published in 1845. Perhaps 1846 or thereabouts may be the date of the letter. It mentions Tommaseo, a multifarious man of letters, whom English people may remember as having written the inscription on Casa Guidi, Florence, for Mrs Browning; Buonarroti, a member of the house of the great Michelangelo; and Bozzelli, the Liberal politician in Naples, who came to precarious power in 1848. My father has mentioned him on p. 98. Libri appears to be the Librarian of that name, settled in Paris, who succumbed under a charge of serious frauds. The names of Malmusi and Bianco are not recognized by me. A.4 York Buildings, King’s Road, Chelsea. 28th March 1841. My dear Signore Rossetti, You warmly recommended to Vantini one of our brother exiles, Galassi. You recommended him for some employment, and that is well. But to discover an employment is a lengthy affair, and Galassi has not a halfpenny in the world, and I, for the last month and a half, have been assisting him so far as my means allow—or indeed don’t allow. However, an expedient has offered, equally acceptable to Galassi and to us—that of sending him to Meanwhile I am greatly obliged to you for the little book you sent me; good and useful. We perhaps do not wholly agree as to the remedies to be applied to our Italy; but certainly we do agree as to her wounds, and you do a beneficial work in laying bare unremittingly one of the most pernicious. For the rest, I trust in God that one day we shall understand each other, and that you will be unwilling Believe meantime in the affectionate esteem of your Giuseppe Mazzini. B.4 York Buildings, King’s Road, Chelsea. ? 1841. My dear Signore Rossetti, I have managed with Vantini through a different method; anyhow, I thank you for the intention, and for what you did for my client. If you will send an order to Rolandi to deliver, to some one on my behalf, a certain number of copies of your booklet, I will send them, four days hence, by an opportunity to Spain. At present I have no opportunity as to Switzerland, but I have correspondents there; and, were the chance to present itself to you sooner than to me, address to Signor Fanciola, Postmaster at Locarno (Ticino) for “Signor Pietro Ol——”; and the copies will be distributed in accordance with your intentions. I have promised to send to a friend in New York the copy of the Papal Excommunication of Carbonarism—launched, I think, in 1820. Do you happen to know where I could find it? I am aware of your circumstances; Meanwhile good-bye, and believe me Yours, Giuseppe Mazzini. If you like, you should place at my disposal a certain number of copies for Marseilles, and for Italy in that direction; I will provide for their reaching. C.London. ? November 1844. My dear Signor Rossetti, I transcribe verbatim a letter that I have received. “To Signori Rossetti, Pepoli, I don’t know anything about the object of the meeting. I know the four signatories, and they are good worthy Italians. In the impossibility, for lack of time, of corresponding as to hour and place, I take the liberty of fixing for the meeting my house, between 1 and 2 P.M. I am notifying to Pepoli and to them. Try and come if you can; or, if perchance you cannot, write so as to relieve me of responsibility. Believe me always Yours, Giuseppe Mazzini. D.4 York Buildings, Chelsea. ? May 1845. My dear Signor Rossetti, We have decided to have on an early day in June a concert for the benefit of the school; Pistrucci, I suppose, will give you all the particulars of the project, or I will give them myself. You will then see how Whatever you decide, please oblige me with a couple of words in reply, and with the lady’s present address, Wish me well, and believe me Your very affectionate Giuseppe Mazzini. E.108 High Holborn. 31st October 1845. My dear Signor Rossetti, Pistrucci told me that he would undertake to beg you to allow your voice to be heard, in one way or other, at the Anniversary of our School, 10th November. Confiding in your willingness to hearken to our request, believe, dear Signor Rossetti, in the full friendly esteem of Yours, Giuseppe Mazzini. F.19 Cropley Street, New North Road. [? January 1847]. Very dear Signor Rossetti, An opportunity has arisen. Will you give the MS. to the bearer? He will be leaving to-morrow, or at latest on Tuesday. I thank you for your good wishes for the year now commenced; but I have no hope of joy, save one alone—that of bearing witness in death, as I have endeavoured to do in life, to my Italian faith. Pray that this may occur within this year, and believe me always Your much attached Giuseppe Mazzini. G.19 Cropley Street, New North Road. [? January 1847]. My dear Signor Rossetti, The Manuscript has gone off—not anything else. Ricciardi, Janer, Pistrucci, will have patience, and await other opportunities which I shall have towards I was unable to charge my traveller—an Englishman, young, and an officer—with the eight shillings, for he would probably have forgotten them. But I have written that you had given them to me, to be paid to Ricciardi—and probably they will be paid one of these days. Believe me, with all esteem, Your much attached Giuseppe Mazzini. H.17 Cropley Street, New North Road. 8th February [1847]. My dear Signor Rossetti, To your MS. has happened what often happens to our Italian affairs: in trying to do good, one does harm. If we had waited patiently for that Italian traveller of mine of the 24th January, the MS. would at this date be in Paris. But, urged on by my own wishes, and also by the strong pressure, I seized the opportunity of an Englishman, Captain Boulton, and consigned the volume to him. He, as he said, was to leave on the following day. You should, therefore, be under no alarm for the MS. Like yourself, I regret the delay, but it is not my fault. If, earlier than the seven days, I get an opportunity, I will see that the MS. goes off before the officer; if not, not. I felt anxious to reply to you about the MS., as the matter of most importance. As to Ricciardi’s eight copies, please inform Ricciardi that one can’t tell a tourist, “Take with you a boxful of things”; that it is a miracle if I found some one to convey the eight; that, sooner or later, I shall find some one to convey the others; and that moreover I would not have undertaken, except for wishing to do a service to you whom I greatly esteem, to send off either the eight or the sixteen. Neither would I set going from Paris to London, and then from London to Paris, copies of my own performances, but would order them to be burned or given away. And believe me ever Your much attached and affectionate Giuseppe Mazzini. I.19 Cropley Street, New North Road. ? May 1847. Dear Signor Rossetti, I cannot succeed in the endeavour. Among the leading newspapers, I had no hope save in the Morning For myself, I, as you know, do not believe in King nor in Pope: I believe in God and in ourselves. They may do what they choose, and try to compromise Charles Albert I keep the letter for another two days, for a final endeavour; afterwards, I shall return it to you. Meanwhile believe me always Your much attached and affectionate Giuseppe Mazzini. J.[The reference to Ricciardi’s book follows on more or less from what appears in two previous letters. The book may possibly have been a predictive History of Italy from 1850 to 1900, which was published in 1842. This letter, written in the great year of European revolutions, 1848, belongs, I suppose, to a very early date in that year; perhaps prior to the insurrection in Paris, which began on 23rd February. There had been some disturbances in Milan on 3rd January, and a rising in Messina from 6th January. On 22nd February martial law was proclaimed in Lombardy by the Austrians.] 19 Cropley Street, New North Road. ? February 1848. My dear Signor Rossetti, I send you by Parcels Delivery Company ten copies of Ricciardi’s book, admiring our friend’s tenacity of memory, especially in this time of events. These are the only copies that I find in my possession. If I had a larger number, the Italian friends who during the long interval have been frequenting my house must have appropriated them with no great ceremony, much as they appropriate my own books. None the less, if ever Ricciardi were to complain, I declare myself ready to pay the expense of the The affairs of Italy are going and will go on their right course—that is, to the expulsion of the Austrians from the Lombardo-Venetian territory. The Sicilian insurrection has done more for the Italian cause, in a few days of popular action, than two years of petitioning. Believe me always Your much attached Giuseppe Mazzini. K.19 Cropley Street, New North Road. ? November 1848. My dear Signor Rossetti, Here is the Address which we sent to the Swiss Diet. I will add that a discussion on military capitulations was in consequence started in the Diet by the Ticino and the Bas-Valais; a discussion which, as befalls everything important in that Central (not Government but) mis-Government, was not settled, but held over (as they say) ad referendum. Make any use of me that I can manage, and believe me always Your much attached Giuseppe Mazzini. L.To “Corso” Brother, I have received yours of the 8th. That I should write to you at much length on the subject of your Only, you know what I have always said: like advanced You and I, I perceive, regard the Reformation, and all things, from different points of view. And now see what is the outcome of the idea, “Christianity is an eternal religion, an unique religious synthesis.” And what of mankind prior to Christianity? Oh in what sense do you understand God, if you admit that He gave the unique eternal synthesis some thousands of years after the race had been created? And the unity of the mind of God? A Tell me, my Corso, with your hand on your heart. To the arguments which I scatter in my letters, hurried, unconnected, and almost sportive, the true fruit of profound convictions, and which you (permit me to say) shirk a little in your replies, have you anything to oppose? Do not some of the things which I say, if you think them over seriously, cast some doubts on your mind? As to what you cite to me, regarding miracles, and the resurrection of Christ, etc., I will not discuss to-day; but I confess to you, it seems to me strange that you should regard those as being irrevocably proved in history. I say it seriously, some one will come to furbish up my ideas, without knowing that I advocated them. I am more than likely to die without doing this, because I am conscious As you see, I am writing to Gioberti. Writing thus to all and sundry begins to weigh upon me. I have moments of spleen, of individualism which rebels; and at those moments I seem to myself to be playing the prostitute, and making Italian liberty play the like part. For if you but knew how many letters, and these to intellects so-called, and all useless! But these are moments of irritation, arising out of what I have myself been suffering these three years, and this is more than you suppose, and you know it not, and never will know it. Then I return to myself; and, where I can see any little advantage, any symptom of duty, I submit and write. Hand also the enclosed lines to Tommaseo, who, like others, does not understand me, and does not understand the situation in which we are. Have you seen Libri? You will tell me that I am pertinacious; this is true. But all those who desert me, without any fault of mine against them, and without my being even able to guess the reason, cause me real pain. If you know Malmusi, or can get at any one who knows him, don’t forget to tell him that for the love of God he should reassure me concerning the arrival of certain letters of mine: his silence troubles me. Of politics I say nothing, as I do not mean to speak about them until the first half of the month of October; then I shall have data from which to speak. Meanwhile I repeat to you what I told you. Did you ever see Buonarroti? Do you know where Bianco is? Of him I know nothing of late, and I am anxious to write to him. Do they ever write to you from Turin? What Italians are you acquainted with? Bozzelli? Wish well to your Strozzi. Put an envelope on the letter to Gioberti. Write to me what reception he gives it. Pray excuse. No. 5.—Six Poems by Gabriele Rossetti [I give here six specimens of my father’s powers as a poet. Setting aside San Paolo in Malta, which is only an improvise, it may be said that in all these instances the verses rank among his choice things; though many others could be quoted not inferior. The dates which I give may be regarded as correct, unless as to the final sonnet, regarding which I am uncertain. The lyric, Aurora del 21 Luglio del 1820, was, as I have before said, extremely celebrated in its time; and the Addio I leave these poems to the perusal of such readers as are acquainted with Italian. To try to translate them would be little else than to scheme deliberately to spoil them.] A.Ad Amore Alato bambino, Tiranno de’ cuori, Pur troppo gemei, Fanciullo inumano! A credulo cuore Tu scaltro dispensi NÈ l’alma si avvede Del passo imprudente Quel dÌ che sul mondo Vagisti bambino, Le penne son queste, O nume fallace, Tu godi, o tiranno, Di sparger la terra L’affanno rimane, La gioia sen va. Chi crede a’ tuoi detti Ne attenda la fine; Tal prova costÒ. La via del dolore Quel giorno che il velo Mi cadde dal ciglio, Ah libero omai 1813. B.Versi d’Amore Dal tuo leggiadro viso Il mio destin dipende: Il tuo desio. Dal labbro tuo soltanto Ha questo labbro il riso: Ha dal tuo ciglio il pianto Il ciglio mio. 1814. C.Aurora del 21 Luglio del 1820 Sei pur bella cogli astri sul crine Che scintillan quai vivi zaffiri, Porporina foriera del dÌ. Col sorriso del pago desio Il rampollo d’Enrico e di Carlo, Ei ch’ad ambo cotanto somiglia, Volontario distese la mano Sul volume de’ patti segnati; Una selva di lance si scosse All’invito del bellico squillo, E fratelli si strinser le mani, Dauno, Irpino, Lucano, Sannita; Ma qual suono di trombe festive! Chi s’avanza fra cento coorti? Oh qual pompa! Le armate falangi Sembran fiumi che inondin le strade! Lieta scena! Chi plaude, chi piange, Chi diffonde vÏole e giacinti, Dalla reggia passando al tugurio Non piÙ finta la gioia festeggia; Genitrici de’ forti campioni Convocati dal sacro stendardo, Non ritornan da terra nemica, Istrumenti di regio misfatto, O beata fra tante donzelle, O beata la ninfa che vede Il segreto dell’alma pudica Le si affaccia sul volto rosato, Cittadini, posiamo sicuri Sotto l’ombra de’ lauri mietuti, Nella pace prepara la guerra Chi da saggio previene lo stolto: Che guardate, gelosi stranieri? Non uscite dai vostri burroni, Adorate le vostre catene; Chi v’invidia cotanto tesoro? Se verrete, le vostre consorti, Imprecando ai vessilli funesti, Sazierete la fame de’ corvi, Mercenarie falangi di schiavi; Una spada di libera mano È saetta di Giove tonante, Fia trionfo la morte per noi, Fia ruggito l’estremo sospiro; E restaron coi brandi ne’ pugni Sopra mucchi di corpi svenati, Quello sdegno passava nel figlio Cui fÙ culla lo scudo del padre, O tutrice dei dritti dell’uomo, Che sorridi sul giogo spezzato, Tu sul Tebro fumante di sangue Passeggiavi qual nembo fremente, Una larva col santo tuo nome QuÌ sen venne con alta promessa; Ma, nel mentre fra gl’inni usurpati Sfavillava di luce fallace, Alla fine tu stessa venisti Non ombrata da minimo velo, Coronata di gigli perenni, Alla terra servendo d’esempio, 1820. D.Addio alla Patria Nella notte piÙ serena Quando il profugo cantore, O Partenope, egli dice, RÈ fellon che ci tradisti, Ti sien contro in ogni loco Traditor, da quel momento Che pel fulmine di Dio Mesta Italia, io ti saluto: Deh perchÈ non farla, o Sorte, Ah crudel, se a questa terra Surse quÌ la face aurata LibertÀ, tu fuggi? Ed io... SÌ dicea; ma l’igneo monte Addio, terra sventurata!... 24 Giugno 1821. E.San Paolo in Malta—Canto Improvvisato PoichÈ l’onda varcai non mai tranquilla Scilla e Cariddi che le intere navi Oltre l’etnee voragini fumose, In porpora augural sorgea l’aurora, Isola che in offrir facile accesso Isola che bilingue e tripartita GiÀ vi scendea del mio desir sull’ale, Levai sorpreso il pallido sembiante, E dopo un giro vorticoso e lento Gran parte delle sfere onde scendea Un pallio sinuoso e venerando All’inspirato suo decor natio Colui che or con ragioni, or con portenti, E poichÈ offrÌ la venerata imago Ed in Damasco dalla grazia vinto, Nel ravvisarlo al vivido riflesso, L’accerchiata di rai fronte serena Sorgi e respira. Io so quanto soffrisse Quell’isola gentil che lÀ si vede Al tuo vagar fia di ricetto amico. ChÈ poichÈ Saulo caddi e Paolo sorsi, E quella FÈ ch’anche gli stolti assenna, E ovunque alzando l’inspirata voce, Or mentre trascorrea l’equorea via, Lo spirto delle tenebre sdegnato E dal nembo mugghiante in cui fremea Ma quel che impera ai venti alto Signore E i varj ne fugai sogni profani, E la potenza eterea, equorea, e stigia, NÈ sol Giove, Nettun, Pluto, in esiglio E fin d’Ercole Tirio al suol depressa Quivi rettile reo mi morse invano, E mentre a gonfio collo raddoppiava Ciascun credea che di pallor dipinto, Ma sopra i giorni miei vegliava quello Ei volle questo suolo asil di pace, Del portento insperato ognun sorpreso E bene al guardo altrui tal mi mostrai, Di Publio udii le filÏali brame, Tolsi a Morte l’acciar di sangue lordo, Corser d’allor ben cento lustri e cento E vigilando ognor sui lor destini Farne una rocca contro agli Ottomanni Ei che a vittoria del divin vangelo Per rinnovarne il pristino splendore E Carlo allor dal riverito trono Ed essi intenti a glorÏoso acquisto Tal che in fronte alle turbe infide e stolte, E sÌ troncata fu l’iniqua trama Io resi degni di perpetui carmi E a render piÙ sicuri i patrii dritti Io resi industre il popolo imperito, E sÌ lo prosperai di mia presenza Io fei cenno da lungi all’Inghilterra, Ed or che il vizio infetta ogni terreno Tu vi discendi: io ti farÒ la traccia: NÈ l’aspe infausto e il velenoso verme Disse, e su me vibrÒ piÙ lampi accesi E sull’ospite sponda un bacio impressi. 12 Agosto 1821. F.Napoleone a Sant’Elena Mira, Ocean, quel principe son io 1835? |
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