Stories from the Italian Poets: with Lives of the Writers Volume I Part 26

Per piu fiate gli occhi ci sospinse Quella lettura, e scolorocci 'l viso Ma solo un punto fu quel che ci vinse.

Quando leggemmo il disiato riso Esser baciato da cotanto amante, Questi che mai da me non sia diviso,

La bocca mi baci tutto tremante: Galeotto fu il libro, e chi to scrisse: Quel giorno piu non vi leggemmo avante.

Mentre the l'uno spirto questo disse, L'altro piangeva si, che di pietade I' venni men cosi com' io morisse,

E caddi come corpo morto cade.

_Translation in the terza rima of the original._

Scarce had I learnt the names of all that press Of knights and dames, than I beheld a sight Nigh reft my wits for very tenderness.

"O guide!" I said, "fain would I, if I might, Have speech with yonder pair, that hand in hand Seem borne before the dreadful wind so light."

"Wait," said my guide, "until then seest their band Sweep round. Then beg them, by that lose, to stay; And they will come, and hover where we stand."

Anon the whirlwind flung them round that way; And then I cried, "Oh, if I ask nought ill, Poor weary souls, have speech with me, I pray."

As doves, that leave some bevy circling still, Set firm their open wings, and through the air Sweep homewards, wafted by their pure good will;

So broke from Dido's flock that gentle pair, Cleaving, to where we stood, the air malign; Such strength to bring them had a loving prayer.

The female spoke. "O living soul benign!"

She said, "thus, in this lost air, visiting Us who with blood stain'd the sweet earth divine;

Had we a friend in heaven's eternal King, We would beseech him keep thy conscience clear, Since to our anguish thou dost pity bring.

Of what it pleaseth thee to speak and hear, To that we also, till this lull be o'er That falleth now, will speak and will give ear.

The place where I was born is on the sh.o.r.e, Where Po brings all his rivers to depart In peace, and fuse them with the ocean floor.

Love, that soon kindleth in a gentle heart, Seized him thou look'st on for the form and face, Whose end still haunts me like a rankling dart.

Love, which by love will be denied no grace, Gave me a transport in my turn so true, That to! 'tis with me, even in this place.

Love brought us to one grave. The hand that slew Is doom'd to mourn us in the pit of Cain."

Such were the words that told me of those two.

Downcast I stood, looking so full of pain To think how hard and sad a case it was, That my guide ask'd what held me in that vein.

His voiced aroused me; and I said, "Alas All their sweet thoughts then, all the steps that led To love, but brought them to this dolorous pa.s.s."

Then turning my sad eyes to theirs, I said, "Francesca, see--these human cheeks are wet-- Truer and sadder tears were never shed.

But tell me. At the time when sighs were sweet, What made thee strive no longer?--hurried thee To the last step where bliss and sorrow meet?"

"There is no greater sorrow," answered she, "And this thy teacher here knoweth full well, Than calling to mind joy in misery.

But since thy wish be great to hear us tell How we lost all but love, tell it I will, As well as tears will let me. It befel,

One day, we read how Lancelot gazed his fill At her he loved, and what his lady said.

We were alone, thinking of nothing ill.

Oft were our eyes suspended as we read, And in our cheeks the colour went and came; Yet one sole pa.s.sage struck resistance dead.

'Twas where the lover, moth-like in his flame, Drawn by her sweet smile, kiss'd it. O then, he Whose lot and mine are now for aye the same,

All in a tremble, on the mouth kiss'd _me_.

The book did all. Our hearts within us burn'd Through that alone. That day no more read we."

While thus one spoke, the other spirit mourn'd With wail so woful, that at his remorse I felt as though I should have died. I turned

Stone-stiff; and to the ground fell like a corse.]

No. II.

ACCOUNTS GIVEN BY DIFFERENT WRITERS OF THE CIRc.u.mSTANCES RELATING TO PAULO AND FRANCESCA; CONCLUDING WITH THE ONLY FACTS ASCERTAINED.

BOCCACCIO'S ACCOUNT

Translated from his Commentary on the Pa.s.sage.

"You must know, that this lady, Madonna Francesca, was daughter of Messer Guido the Elder, lord of Ravenna and of Cervia, and that a long and grievous war having been waged between him and the lords Malatesta of Rimini, a treaty of peace by certain mediators was at length concluded between them; the which, to the end that it might be the more firmly established, it pleased both parties to desire to fortify by relations.h.i.+p; and the matter of this relations.h.i.+p was so discoursed, that the said Messer Guido agreed to give his young and fair daughter in marriage to Gianciotto, the son of Messer Malatesta. Now, this being made known to certain of the friends of Messer Guido, one of them said to him, 'Take care what you do; for if you contrive not matters discreetly, such relations.h.i.+p will beget scandal. You know what manner of person your daughter is, and of how lofty a spirit; and if she see Gianciotto before the bond is tied, neither you nor any one else will have power to persuade her to marry him; therefore, if it so please you, it seems to me that it would be good to conduct the matter thus: namely, that Gianciotto should not come hither himself to marry her, but that a brother of his should come and espouse her in his name.'

"Gianciotto was a man of great spirit, and hoped, after his father's death, to become lord of Rimini; in the contemplation of which event, albeit he was rude in appearance and a cripple, Messer Guido desired him for a son-in-law above any one of his brothers. Discerning, therefore, the reasonableness of what his friend counselled, he secretly disposed matters according to his device; and a day being appointed, Polo, a brother of Gianciotto, came to Ravenna with full authority to espouse Madonna Francesca. Polo was a handsome man, very pleasant, and of a courteous breeding; and pa.s.sing with other gentlemen over the court-yard of the palace of Messer Guido, a damsel who knew him pointed him out to Madonna Francesca through an opening in the cas.e.m.e.nt, saying, 'That is he that is to be your husband;' and so indeed the poor lady believed, and incontinently placed in him her whole affection; and the ceremony of the marriage having been thus brought about, and the lady conveyed to Rimini, she became not aware of the deceit till the morning ensuing the marriage, when she beheld Gianciotto rise from her side; the which discovery moved her to such disdain, that she became not a whit the less rooted in her love for Polo. Nevertheless, that it grew to be unlawful I never heard, except in what is written by this author (Dante), and possibly it might so have become; albeit I take what he says to have been an invention framed on the possibility, rather than any thing which he knew of his own knowledge. Be this as it may, Polo and Madonna Francesca living in the same house, and Gianciotto being gone into a certain neighbouring district as governor, they fell into great companions.h.i.+p with one another, suspecting nothing; but a servant of Gianciotto's noting it, went to his master and told him how matters looked; with the which Gianciotto being fiercely moved, secretly returned to Rimini; and seeing Polo enter the room of Madonna Francesca the while he himself was arriving, went straight to the door, and finding it locked inside, called to his lady to come out; for, Madonna Francesca and Polo having descried him, Polo thought to escape suddenly through an opening in the wall, by means of which there was a descent into another room; and therefore, thinking to conceal his fault either wholly or in part, he threw himself into the opening, telling the lady to go and open the door. But his hope did not turn out as he expected; for the hem of a mantle which he had on caught upon a nail, and the lady opening the door meantime, in the belief that all would be well by reason of Polo's not being there, Gianciotto caught sight of Polo as he was detained by the hem of the mantle, and straightway ran with his dagger in his hand to kill him; whereupon the lady, to prevent it, ran between them; but Gianciotto having lifted the dagger, and put the whole force of his arm into the blow, there came to pa.s.s what he had not desired--namely, that he struck the dagger into the bosom of the lady before it could reach Polo; by which accident, being as one who had loved the lady better than himself, he withdrew the dagger, and again struck at Polo, and slew him; and so leaving them both dead, he hastily went his way and betook him to his wonted affairs; and the next morning the two lovers, with many tears, were buried together in the same grave."

The reader of this account will have observed, that while Dante a.s.sumes the guilt of all parties, and puts them into the infernal regions, the good-natured Boccaccio is for doubting it, and consequently for sending them all to heaven. He will ignore as much of the business as a gentleman can; boldly doubts any guilt in the case; says nothing of the circ.u.mstance of the book; and affirms that the husband loved his wife, and was miserable at having slain her. There is, however, one negative point in common between the two narrators; they both say nothing of certain particulars connected with the date of Francesca's marriage, and not a little qualifying the first romantic look of the story.

Now, it is the absence of these particulars, combined with the tradition of the father's artifice (omitted perhaps by Dante out of personal favour), and with that of the husband's ferocity of character (the belief in which Boccaccio did not succeed in displacing), that has left the prevailing impression on the minds of posterity, which is this:--that Francesca was beguiled by her father into the marriage with the deformed and unamiable Giovanni, and that the unconscious medium of the artifice was the amiable and handsome Paulo; that one or both of the victims of the artifice fell in love with the other; that their intercourse, whatever it was, took place not long after the marriage; and that when Paulo and Francesca were slain in consequence, they were young lovers, with no other ties to the world.

It is not pleasant in general to dispel the illusions of romance, though Dante's will bear the operation with less hurt to a reader's feelings than most; and I suspect, that if nine out of ten of all the implied conclusions of other narratives in his poem could be compared with the facts, he would be found to be one of the greatest of romancers in a new and not very desirable sense, however excusable he may have been in his party-prejudice. But a romance may be displaced, only to subst.i.tute perhaps matters of fact more really touching, by reason of their greater probability. The following is the whole of what modern inquirers have ascertained respecting Paulo and Francesca. Future enlargers on the story may suppress what they please, as Dante did; but if any one of them, like the writer of the present remarks, is anxious to speak nothing but the truth, I advise him (especially if he is for troubling himself with making changes in his story) not to think that he has seen all the authorities on the subject, or even remembered all he has seen, until he has searched every corner of his library and his memory. All the poems. .h.i.therto written upon this popular subject are indeed only to be regarded as so many probable pieces of fancy, that of Dante himself included.

THE ONLY PARTICULARs. .h.i.tHERTO REALLY ASCERTAINED RESPECTING THE HISTORY OF PAULO AND FRANCESCA.

Francesca was daughter of Guido Novello da Polenta, lord of Ravenna.

She was married to Giovanni, surnamed the Lame, one of the sons of Malatesta da Verrucchio, lord of Rimini.

Giovanni the Lame had a brother named Paulo the Handsome, who was a widower, and left a son.

Twelve years after Francesca's marriage, by which time she had become mother of a son who died, and of a daughter who survived her, she and her brother-in-law Paulo were slain together by the husband, and buried in one grave.