"I should like," said Ippolito, "to speak with that Jew before I leave you. He may help me to some curious manuscripts."
The Medici were very clever in hunting up curiosities of literature; for their encouragement of the arts sprang less from the love of that renown which rewards liberal patronage, than from real, genuine interest in arts and lettersfor their own sake. Hence the worship of their very names among poorliterati, to whom sympathy and appreciation are dearer than gold, though they like that too. Pity that they loved Plato better than Christ! The spirit of poetical and philosophical emulation which they kindled was accompanied by utter obtuseness to spiritual things. A keensense of purity of language fostered no love of purity of life; there was, in fact, complete antagonism between the elegant disciples of Lorenzo and the severe followers of Savonarola and Bernardino Ochino; and if the very light that was in them was darkness, how great was that darkness! The Medici retarded rather than advanced the spirituality of their age; and in like manner, though in different proportion, their elegant biographer has thrown a false shadow on good, and a false light on evil. Of course I shall be covered with obloquy for saying this.
Cardinal Ippolito received Bar Hhasdai in a cabinet adjoining thesala di compagnía, in which music and society-games were beguiling the tedium of the other guests. The Jew was a grand specimen of the Sephardim—he was a great deal older than he looked, his hair unbleached, and his head unbent by age.
"Your name is that of a great man," said the Cardinal to him.
"My descent is from him likewise," said the physician. "I am son, or, as your people would say, descendant of that Hhasdai ben Isaac who was Hagib to the second Abderrahman, and wrote the famous epistle—of which you doubtless have heard—to Joseph, King of Cozar."
"No, I never heard anything about it," said Ippolito with interest. "Who was the king of Cozar?"
"The Cozarim," replied Bar Hhasdai, "were Jews dwelling on the Caspian Sea. My ancestor had long heard of them without being able to communicate with them, till, from the Spanish embassy at Constantinople, he learned that some of them frequently brought furs for sale to the bazaars there. On this, he addressed an epistle to them, beginning: 'I, Bar Hhasdai ben Isaac, ben Ezra, one of thedispersed of Jerusalem, dwelling in Spain,' and so on—'Be it known to the king that the name of the land we inhabit is, in the holy language, Sepharad, but in that of the Ishmaelites, el Andalus,' &c. Bar Hhasdai despatched this epistle to the East by an envoy, who returned six months afterwards, saying he had hunted high and low for the Cozarim, without being able to find them. Their kingdom undoubtedly existed, but was quite inaccessible. Bar Hhasdai transmitted his letter afterwards, however, through two ambassadors of the Asiatic people called Gablim, who visited Cordova."
"And were these Cozarim the lost tribes?"
"I know not."
"Where are they now?"
"They are not found."
"How came you Jews to settle in Spain?"
"I believe in Abarbanel. He tells us that two families of the house of David settledin Spain during the first captivity. One of them settled at Lucena; the other, the Abarbanels, took root at Seville. Hence all their descendants were of the royal stock—of the tribe of Judah."
"You yourself, then, are of the royal stock?"
"I trace up to David."
Ippolito did not know whether to believe him; but he evidently believed in himself.
"I thought," said De' Medici, "your genealogies were lost?"
"Not when we came to Spain. But it is believed that many Jews were in Spain evenpriorto the first captivity—Jews who came over with the merchant ships of Hiram in the days of David and Solomon, and who remitted large sums of money towards the erection of the Temple. You may see a tombstone that confirms this, without the walls of Saguntum, to this day. It bears the following inscriptionin Hebrew—'The sepulchre of Adoniram, the servant of King Solomon, who came hither to collect tribute.' The tomb was opened about fifty years ago, and found to contain an embalmed corpse of unusual stature."
"This is curious," said the Cardinal, reflectively,—"and merely a matter of curiosity."
"It ought not to be so in your eyes—nor in the eyes of any thoughtful Christian," said Bar Hhasdai.
"Why not?"
"Because we Sephardim were not consenting unto the death of him whom you term the Christ."
"Ha!—But you would have done so, most probably, if you had been on the spot."
"That is a gratuitous supposition. On the contrary, we wrote an epistle to Caiaphas the High Priest, pleading for the life of Jesus, whose good report had been brought us."
"Can this be so?"
"Prince Cardinal! when I and my brethren were banished from Spain forty years ago, we appealed to an ancient monument in the open square of Toledo, bearing the inscription of some very early bishop, to the effect that we Sephardim had not quitted Spain during the whole time of the second Temple; and, therefore, could not have shared in the guilt of crucifying Jesus!"
"Singular!"
"When Taric the Moor took Toledo, in the year 710 of your era, he found, at Segoncia, among other treasures, the actual table of shew-bread which had belonged to Solomon's Temple! and which our nation had secretly brought to Spain. It was composed of one huge emerald, surrounded by three rows of the choicest pearls, and it stood upon three hundred and sixty feet of pure gold."
"Are you fabling?" exclaimed the Cardinal, whom this tradition interested more than all the rest.
"Nay," said Bar Hhasdai, "the fable is not mine, at any rate. That such a relic was really found there, is proved by their changing the name of the place from Segoncia to Medinat al Meida,the place of the table."
"Why, man, such a relic as that would redeem your whole race! Hist, the Duchess is singing——"
A lute, rarely touched, preluded a sweet, plaintive air, sung by a balmy voice in the saloon. The Cardinal listened with pleasure and a little provocation; for the Duchess had twice refused to sing to him, and it was very bad of her to do so at the request of some one else. The little snatch of song ended abruptly in the minor.
"Could not you enter into that?" said Ippolito, noticing a strange mixture of sadnessand sarcasm on the physician's face. He replied with a distich—
"What saith the art of music among the Christians?—'I was assuredly stolen from the land of the Hebrews!'"
"What saith the art of music among the Christians?—'I was assuredly stolen from the land of the Hebrews!'"
"What saith the art of music among the Christians?—'I was assuredly stolen from the land of the Hebrews!'"
"What saith the art of music among the Christians?—
'I was assuredly stolen from the land of the Hebrews!'"
"Do you mean that that is a Hebrew melody?"
"O, yes!"
"Jew!whywill you not convert, and be healed?"
"It cannot be. I have seen whole families of slain Jews with gaping gashes in their bodies, heaped at their own thresholds—and those gashes were made by the swords of Christians!"
"But that was in Spain."
"Bear with me, Cardinal, while I repeat a parable to you. Pedro the Great of Arragon inquired of a learned Jew which was the best religion. He replied: 'Ours is best for us, and yours for you,' The king was not satisfied with this answer, and the Jew, afterthree days, returned to him seemingly in great perturbation, and said: 'A neighbour of mine journeyed to a far country lately, and gave each of his two sons a rich jewel to console them for his absence. The young men came to me to inquire which jewel was the most valuable. I assured them I was unable to decide, and said their father must be the best judge, on which they overwhelmed me with reproaches.' 'That was ill done of them,' said the king. 'O, king!' rejoined the Jew, 'beware how thou condemnest thyself. A jewel has been given unto the Hebrew and likewise to the Christian, and thou hast demanded that I should decide which is the most precious. I refer thee to our great Father, the Giver of all good gifts, who alone can exactly determine their comparative and absolute values.'"
This apologue pleased the Cardinal, though, in fact, it was very superficial. He inquiredwhether Bar Hhasdai could help him to any rare manuscripts.
"The few which I possess," said the physician, after a pause, "are not such as would be of any value in your eyes: being either on our own law, or on the science of medicine—"
"Nay, but," said the Cardinal, "the latter are such as I should greatly prize."
"They are altogether obsolete and unworthy of your notice," said Bar Hhasdai, "but I have a little treatise on Chess, which really is a curiosity in its way; and also a treatise on Aristotle's Ethics, by Rabbi Joseph ben Caspi, of Barcelona, which is at your service."
"Let me have them both," said the Cardinal, "and in return I beg you to accept this ruby of small value."
"This is a rare gem!" said the physician, with delight, "and cut with Hebrew characters. May I really have it?"
"Certainly. And pray tell me before yougo, do you think the Moorish girl will recover?"
"I have some hope of it."
"Could not you, as you have a key to her confidence, which we have not, ascertain whether she is really faithful to the Duchess?"
"There can be no question of her fidelity. She has spoken of her mistress with gratitude."
"That is well. Farewell, then."
When Cardinal Ippolito had taken leave, and the last glimpse of his scarlet tippet had been seen as his little cavalcade wound out of sight, Giulia found her remaining guests very stale, flat, and unprofitable; and when they too had departed, she became exceedingly listless and peevish; very much in the mood of little children in the nursery, when they weary their nurses with "I don't know what to do!"
To do Giulia justice, it must be admitted that this mood was not habitual to her. Naturally sweet-tempered, and highly cultivated, she had too many resources within herself to be accustomed to find her time hang heavy on her hands. She could sing, play, and paint;she was skilful at her needle; she wrote very tolerable sonnets, and corresponded with many of the most celebrated people of the day. She was praised without insincerity by men whose names are still honoured among us. And yet she was just now in that vapid frame when one exclaims—"Man delighteth me not, nor woman either;" in that longing for some unknown, unattainable good which made St. Anselm say—"Libera me, Domine, a isto misero hominemeipso!"
So she leant her head on her hand and shed a few tears: then, fancying she must be sickening of marsh miasma, she sent for Bar Hhasdai.
The physician, perceiving that there was nothing the matter with her, began to tell her, incidentally as it were, while he felt her pulse, of the grief of the Adimari family, whose son had been carried off by Barbarossa. The Duchess became interested in their sorrows,and forgot her imaginary ailments. She consulted with him how she might console them and relieve other bereaved persons.
"Surely," said she, looking at his hand, "I have seen that ruby worn by Cardinal Ippolito?"
"He gave it me but yesterday," said Bar Hhasdai, "in return for two manuscripts of not half the value; whereon I sent him another really rare, and worthy of a place in the Vatican library."
"You were determined not to be outdone by him in generosity, it seems," said Giulia. "He told me he had held a very interesting conversation with you about your own people. Tell me, Bar Hhasdai, is it really true that you Jews mingle the blood of a Christian child with your unleavened bread at Passover time?"
"It is false, most scandalously false," replied Bar Hhasdai, "and only invented by the Christians to colour their own outrages uponus. You might as well ask, if there were any truth in the old story of there being a magical brazen head in the castle of Tavora, which, on the approach of any one of our race, would exclaim, 'A Jew is in Tavora!' and, on his departure, 'The Jew is now out of Tavora!' O lady! revolting are the accusations that have been raised against us!—of our crucifying children, drinking their blood, and burning their hearts to ashes. Sometimes our people have been tortured till their agonies have wrung from them false confessions, which afterwards have been disproved; as in the case of the brothers Onkoa, who, in the reign of one of the Alonsos, were accused of stealing two of the king's golden vessels, and by torture were induced to confess it, in consequence of which they were hanged. Yet, three days after, the vessels were found in the possession of one of the king's own servants."
"I have always held torture," said Giulia,"to be a very uncertain as well as cruel test."
"Alonso quoted what I have related, as a case in point," said Bar Hhasdai, "when certain Jews were accused of secreting the dead body of a Christian, which, after all, turned out to have been cast into the house of one of them by his Christian debtor, who owed him a sum of money he had no mind to repay. Thus have obloquy and contumely been heaped upon us, without our having the power to avenge ourselves; for the Lord hath forgotten His footstool in the day of His wrath."
"Who or what do you call His footstool?"
"In a general sense, the whole earth; but in a more particular one, Jerusalem."
"Since you admit that God has forgotten you, you must submit to your judicial punishment."
"Lady, it is hard! Easy to say, but hard to do. The only consolation is in knowing that agood time is coming, when we shall—when the Gentiles themselves shall speed us to our city, even carrying us on their shoulders."
"Do you really believe that?"
"Literally!" said Bar Hhasdai. "But I do not expect to live to see it."
"You are yet young——"
"Ah, no! I am very old, and worn out with a life of trouble."
"Tell me the story of your life," said the Duchess, with interest. "Tell me how you came to leave Spain."
"Will you listen to me?" said Bar Hhasdai. "Then you shall hear. In the month Abib, or, as you would say, in March, in the year 5052, or according to your reckoning 1492, a decree was passed that every Jew should quit Arragon, Castile, and Granada, on pain of death and confiscation. By a refinement in injustice, we were forbidden to take out of the country plate, jewels, or coin: we must convert all ourpossessions into bills of exchange. As our enemies would not buy of us till the last moment, and then at a prodigious discount, you may conceive the way in which we were pillaged, often reduced to exchange a good house for an ass, or a field or vineyard for a few yards of cloth.
"When the royal proclamation was announced, Abarbanel the Jew happened to be at court. He entered the king's presence, and cast himself before him on his face, exclaiming, 'Regard us, O king! Use not thy faithful servants with so much cruelty! Exact from us everything we possess, rather than banish us from what has now become our country!' But it was all in vain. At the king's right hand sat the queen, who was the Jews' enemy, and who urged him with an angry voice to carry through what he had so happily commenced. We left no effort untried to obtain a reversal of the king's sentence; but withouteffect. Baptism was the only alternative. I am sorry to say, there were some who submitted to it, rather than forsake their homes. Home is dear; but it may be purchased too dearly. More noble were thoseeight hundred thousandSephardim who forsook house and hearth, garden, field, and vineyard, the synagogues and the burial-places of their fathers, and, on foot and unarmed, collected together from every province, young and old, infants and women, noble examples of passive endurance, to go whither the Lord should lead them! Of that number was I; and with God for our guide we set out——
"Do I tire you?"
"O no!——Go on."
"About twenty thousand of us took refuge in Portugal, where they were admitted,pro tempore, on payment of eight golden ducats per head: but, if they remained beyond a certain day, they were sentenced to slavery.The frontiers were lined with tax-gatherers, to exact the poll-tax.
"The majority of us embarked at the different ports, where brutal ship-masters exacted enormous sums for their passage, and, in many cases, burned or wrecked their vessels when at sea, escaping themselves in their boats, and leaving the unhappy Jews to perish.
"The crew of the ship in which I, a young child, was, rose to murder us, for the sake, as they averred, of avenging the death of Christ; but a Christian merchant on board told them that Christ died to save men, not to destroy them. So they altered their purpose, stripped us, and set us on a barren coast, under a blazing sun, where they left us to perish. We found a spring of fresh water, at which we slaked our thirst; but food we had none. At night, some of our party were devoured by lions. Five days we remained in this wretched state: we were then picked up by the crew ofa passing ship, who tore up old sails to clothe us, gave us food, and carried us to a port. The people of that place inquired whether they had brought us for sale. The ship-master nobly answered 'No!' and delivered us to our brethren in the city, who gladly reimbursed him for our expenses, and united with us in praying that he might live to a good old age."
"You see there are some good Christians among us," interrupted the Duchess.
"Certainly," said the Jew. "But the majority of them were against us: nor did we experience any better treatment from the Moors. At Fez the gates were closed against the Jews, who, beneath a burning sun, could find nothing but grass to eat, and miserably perished. Many hundred children were sold into slavery. One mother was known to strike her expiring child on the head with a stone, and then breathe her last on his dead body. Two hundred widows dwelt together in Barbary,labouring diligently with their hands, and sharing all things in common. Many of these women had been separated from their husbands by cruel circumstances, but knew not whether they were dead or alive. A pestilence broke out among the Jews, who filled nine caravels bound for Naples. On landing there the disease communicated itself to the inhabitants, and swept off twenty thousand of them. At Genoa, the citizens met our people with bread in one hand and the crucifix in the other. Their choice lay between baptism and starvation."
"I cannot wonder," said the Duchess, after a pause, "that you are prejudiced against our religion, for you have seen it under false colours, but I hope the time will come when those prejudices may wear off."
"I hope it may," said the physician, equivocally; and he changed the subject.
The little Vespasiano Gonzaga, who, on thedeath of the Duke of Sabbionetta, came into Giulia's guardianship at eight years old, in after times was very liberal to the Jews. He granted them a licence to establish a Hebrew press at Sabbionetta, from which issued several editions of the Pentateuch, Psalter, and Hebrew commentaries.[7]
[7]Benj. Wiffen,Introduction to Alfabeto Christiano.
[7]Benj. Wiffen,Introduction to Alfabeto Christiano.
Giulia remembered, the next morning, as her cameriera was warping some pearls into her hair, that she had meant and half engaged to try a course of mortification on the Cardinal's departure. She therefore put on an old green gown, with bouffonnée sleeves, which was almost too worn for a duchess; and, in a very easy pair of slippers, sat down to her morning refection. Some sweetmeats allured her, but she took a piece of plain bread and a glass of lemonade; after which, she thought "Well done, resolution!" and tasted the sweetmeats after all. Moderately, however.
After this, she sat for a good while in a waking dream; and then, rousing herself, determined to go to church, but found it wastoo late. She thought she would send for the poor widow of whom Bar Hhasdai had spoken to her; but just then, Caterina came to tell her that her lapdog had run a thorn into its foot; and as one act of mercy would do for another, she superintended the dressing of the little animal's paw, and did not send for the widow. After this, she inspected the embroidery of her maids of honour, and thought of fourteen rhymes as the skeleton of a sonnet.
She had advanced thus far in this well-spent day, when the sound of horses' feet made her suddenly aware of the approach of a visitor. Now, our Duchess did not like being caught; it was very seldom, indeed, that shecouldbe caught in déshabille; for she enjoyed the consciousness of being at all times a perfectly well-dressed woman. It was hard, therefore, to be found in half-toilette the only time in all the season that such a misfortune could have occurred; especially as it would not be knownto partake of the meritorious nature of a penance. However, the mortification would be all the more complete. Who could the visitor be? The Bishop of Fondi?
She looked into the court-yard, and saw a grave, elderly person in ecclesiastical habit, with four mounted attendants, descending somewhat stiffly from his horse. His face was rather plain; his figure tall and imposing. He had a snub nose, high, broad forehead, small, penetrating eyes, and auburn hair and beard a little silvered.
In a few minutes the maggior-domo announced "Messer Sebastiano Veneziano."
The Duchess uttered an exclamation of joy, and advanced, beaming with smiles, to meet him. Never had she looked more lovely: the painter started, and paused for a moment, as she approached. The next instant, her white hand was in his.
"Welcome, Messer Sebastiano, welcome!How good of you to grace my poor house!"
"Illustrious Lady, his Holiness the Pope desired me to give you his paternal greeting."
"I gratefully thank his Holiness."
"—And his Eminence, Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici kisses your hands, and supplicates of your condescension that you will remember your promise to let my poor pencil limn your features."
"I have not forgotten it. I shall esteem it an honour to sit to so great a master. How would you have me dressed, Messer Sebastian? What pose shall you choose?"
"Vossignoria will allow me to study you a little before I decide?"
"Certainly, certainly. Rather formidable, though, to think I am always being studied!"
"I should recommend Vossignoria not to think at all about it."
"Well, I will try. You are fatigued with your journey, Messer Sebastian."
"It will soon pass off. My hand is not steady enough to paint to-day. The journey has interested me. I have made acquaintance with the promontory of Circe, the shining rock of Anxur, and the towering Volscian mountains—all renowned in song, as I need not tell you, Signora! I observed Cora and Sezza shining like aërial palaces against the brown rugged rock that supports them. I viewed with interest the woods and thickets that once sheltered Camilla. Piperno is, you know, theantiqua urbsof Virgil. I am speaking to a princess who is a classical scholar——"
"Little enough of one," replied the Duchess. "Cardinal Ippolito took compassion on my ignorance, and translated the second book of the Eneid for me. But how go things at Rome?"
And the great painter found that the greatlady was more interested in the chit-chat of the capital, than in classical allusion and learned quotation.
The Duchess could always summon at short notice a little circle of deferential friends to her evening meal. She appeared in velvet and jewels. The next morning she wore white. This was not out of coquetry, but as a simple matter of business, that the famous master might make up his mind what suited her best, as a sitter, and proceed to work.
"Lady," said he, "I prefer the dress in which I saw you first."
"Oh, but that is so old! so shabby!——"
"Non importa—it harmonises with your complexion——"
"Two shades of olive," said she, laughing a little; and she went to change her dress.
When she returned, Sebastian had concentrated the light by excluding it altogether from one window, and placing a screen beforethe lower half of the other. His easel and panel had been brought in by his attendant, who was now busy laying his palette, and the artist was selecting chalks and cartridge paper for a preparatory sketch.
"You look charming," said he, as Giulia entered and seated herself in a raised chair. She was in the olive-green dress, cut square on the bust, with velvet bars on the corsage; and full, puffed, long sleeves, a white lace neckerchief, and long transparent veil, added to the modest and noble simplicity of her dress; while her rich auburn hair, dark in the shade and golden in the sun,[8]was braided behind with a few pearls, and gathered into rich coils.
[8]"As through the meadow-lands clear rivers run,Blue in the shadow, silver in the sun."Hon. Mrs. Norton.Lady of La Garaye.
[8]
"As through the meadow-lands clear rivers run,
Blue in the shadow, silver in the sun."
Hon. Mrs. Norton.Lady of La Garaye.
Poor Cynthia, with her throat swathed up, stood behind with her feather-fan; but the painter looked distastefully at her, and did not repeat his glance: he had no mind to introduce her, even as a foil.
"I must make a saint or an angel of you, since you are for a Cardinal," said he, with a grave smile; "and it will not be difficult."
"Surely, this old gown is not very angelical?" said the Duchess.
"No matter. A nimbus and pincers will identify you with St. Agatha or St. Apollonia, quite sufficiently for the purpose."
He began to draw with great diligence, and was terribly silent. The Duchess felt inclined to yawn.
"More to the right," he said, abruptly, as she inclined her head a little to the left. "Perdona, illustrissima."
"Pray do not stand on ceremony," said she. Her countenance had become vacant, and he felt he must call up its expression.
"Do you take any interest in art, Signora?"
"O yes, a great deal. I only wish I knew more about it."
"Do you know what is its great object?"
"To address the eye?"
"To address the mind."
"Certainly. Of course. I ought to have said so."
"The painter who only aims to deceive the eye is ignorant of the true dignity of art."
"To deceive the eye, and to please it, however, are different things."
"I grant it; but the eye of an intelligent, a refined person, is not pleased by that which offends the mind."
"I thought you Venetians cared more for colour than for drawing or expression."
"I did so as long as I was a pupil of Giorgione's. But when I came to Rome, Michael Angelo showed me where I was wrong. He said, 'It is a pity you Venetians do not learn to draw better in your youth, andadopt a better manner of study.' I took the hint, and drew diligently from the living model. But even this did not content him. 'You neglect the ideal beauty of form,' said he, 'and propriety of expression,' I treasured this hint, too. I said to him, 'If you would condescend to unite our colouring to your drawing, you would be—what, after all, you are already—such a master as the world ne'er saw,' 'That may not be,' said he, half-smiling; 'you might as well try to graft a rose on an oak: but ifyou, my son, would unite good drawing to your colouring, you might distance Raffaelle.' And, taking up a piece of pipeclay, he sketched out a Lazarus, and splashed in the colour. I do not altogether like it, the action is too violent, and he has made him as black as your Moorish girl; but still it is a grand thing—a very grand thing—the action of the toe, trying to disentangle the bandage of the left leg, is wonderfully original. I have tried topaint all the rest of my picture up to it. A little more to the right, Signora!"
"Cardinal Ippolito told me that picture of yours was very grand," said the Duchess. "He especially admired the different expressions of the two sisters. But he thought the figure of the Saviour too small."
"——Well," said Sebastian, after drawing for a few minutes in silence, "perfect proportion always gives the idea of smallness. The figure was on the same scale with the rest, till Michael Angelo put in his great Lazarus: and you know I could not re-touch the master's work."
"Michael Angelo writes to me sometimes," observed the Duchess, "but he is a better correspondent of my cousin, Vittoria Colonna."
Sebastian worked a little while in silence, and then said:
"Is not the Marchioness somewhat tinctured with the new opinions?"
"Yes," said Giulia, "I am afraid she is. That's the worst of being too clever."
"Is it a proof of being so?"
"Well, clever people are apt to run after new things."
"Perhaps they see more in them than the less clever do."
"They think they do, at any rate."
"Has your ladyship looked yet into the works of the Prince of Carpi?"
"Do you mean the great heavy books you brought me from the Cardinal? No."
"They contain a masterly refutation of the heresies of Erasmus. The Cardinal thought they might confirm you in the faith."
"I am happy to say my faith wants no confirming. I would rather have had some novels. You may tell him so, if he says anything to you about it.... Have you read the books yourself?"
"I have looked into them."
"Have you read Erasmus's books?"
"No."
"Well, when I attack controversy, I will read both sides."
"That will be rather dangerous."
"How can that be? Only one side can be right."
"Your excellency is of course above danger," said Sebastian, with a little cough, "but, for common minds, there is the danger of not distinguishing whichisthe right. For myself, being but a moderate logician, and still slighter theologian, I prefer taking my religion as I have been taught it, to meddling with edged tools. The Church is irrefutable: the Church has foundations that will never be shaken. And I am content to abide by its decisions.—A little more to the right."
After the steed is stolen, we shut the stable-door; and the Duchess, who now felt very cowardly after dark, set a regular watch on the battlements, whose orders were that he should wind his horn every hour, as he paced his rounds, that she might be certified he was on the alert. The prolonged, wailing note of this horn, piercing the solemn stillness of night, had something infinitely melancholy in it, and often woke her with a start; but then she had the satisfaction of thinking all was safe, and soon yielded herself again to soft repose. Her maids, of whom she had as many as the Duchess in Don Quixote, were much more timorous than she was, and yielded a good deal to their fears, thinking it rather pretty andinteresting to start and shriek on the smallest alarm, till they were scolded out of it by the Mother of the maids. This important functionary, whose name, like that of Giulia's nurse, was Caterina, but who bore the dignified prefix of Donna, was of Spanish birth, starched and stiff as Leslie's duenna. In the feudal times, when the sons of knights and nobles took service in the household of some brother noble or knight, and performed the various duties of page and squire, their sisters in like manner attended on the said noble's lady, somewhat in the capacity of maids of honour, under the strict surveillance of the Mother of the maids, who initiated them into all feminine crafts and handiworks, as well as into the decorums and duties of life. That the Duchess's household comprised many of these girls, we know from her will, leaving them marriage portions, generally with the addition of a bed and bedding. Doubtlessthere was some Altesidora among them, accustomed to wear the old Duenna's heart out with her mischief and fun; but, on the whole, Donna Caterina's rule was popular. Obedience, the grand principle of peace and order, once enforced, she exercised no vexatious petty tyrannies.
On the first rumour of Barbarossa's invasion, Donna Caterina had swept off all these young people into the cellar, and there locked them and herself in, while Caterina, the nurse, devoted herself to securing the jewels and plate, which she did with complete success.
Sebastian del Piombo made many studies of the Duchess before he could please himself; and the irresolution with which captious cavillers have chosen to charge him was indicated in the deliberation with which he poised and valued the merits of each before his final decision was made. But deliberationis a very different thing from vacillation; and even irresolution is as often an evidence of a great mind before the ultimate choice, as it is of a little one after it. Plenty of illustrations will occur to you, without any impertinent suggestions.
After sketching her, then, as a nymph, an angel, a goddess, he chose the simplest of his studies: one that represented her as
"A creature not too bright or goodFor human nature's daily food;But yet an angel, too, and brightWith something of celestial light:"
"A creature not too bright or goodFor human nature's daily food;But yet an angel, too, and brightWith something of celestial light:"
"A creature not too bright or goodFor human nature's daily food;But yet an angel, too, and brightWith something of celestial light:"
"A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
But yet an angel, too, and bright
With something of celestial light:"
and then, to it he setcon furore, grasping palette and brushes as Jove might his thunder-bolts, and painting up his study with consummate art and science, often in dead silence only broken by "A little more to the right."
As for the Duchess, when she was off duty, that is, when Sebastian was getting his picturetogether, and bringing the separate parts well up at the same time—as nature creates her works—she would dabble a little in the arts herself, and pore over a few inches of paper, working as if for her bread; with now and then a modest appeal,—"Is this altogether ill-done? Is this a trifle better? Just put in a touch or two."
O, delightful art of painting! Who can pursue you and not be happy? Those artists who have known envy, jealousy, and malice, have not loved you for yourself, but for ends far below you; for you are infinitely calming! The true painter knows no rivalry but with nature, no master but truth, no mistress but purity, no reward but success. As Garibaldi, king of men, said last year, "When God puts you in the way of doing a good thing,do it, and hold your tongue."
"Do you think," said Giulia, one day, "Imight become a good painter, if I gave my mind to it?"
"Certainly, if you gave your mind to it. But you never will! You are too rich to be a good painter. A certain degree of excellence you may attain, that will embellish your life and charm your leisure; but, to become reallygreat, one must attack painting like any mechanical trade, and apply to it like an apprentice, not merely when the fancy inclines, but at all times, willing or unwilling."
"Ah, that would never suit me," said the Duchess. "But, supposing I could leap over the apprenticeship, and become at once a great artist like Michael Angelo, I might have underlings to do all the rough work for me, and only do what was pleasant."
"That is not Michael Angelo's way at all," said Sebastian. "He grinds his own colours,I promise you, and lays his own palette, as I myself do when at leisure. One thinks out many profitable thoughts at such times. And no one can prepare our colours to please us as we can ourselves. Though many of the early stages of sculpture are executed from the clay model by rule and plummet, yet I assure you Michael Angelo trusts it to no inferior workman, but does it himself. He is a great man! a truly great man! And one of his great achievements has been to sweep away the gold and purple backgrounds and other puerilities of the dark ages."
Sebastian little thought art would ever make aretrograde progressto pre-Raffaelitism.Dowe then, after all, move in a circle?
In a month, the picture was finished. It was curious that Giulia should have sat for it, at Ippolito's request, and for Ippolito; but weknow that she did. Affo supposes that she could not in courtesy refuse him, after his coming so chivalrously to her succour. You may see the picture now, at the National Gallery. The Duchess and the painter had quite a friendly parting; and she engaged him, at his earliest leisure, to paint her a portrait of himself.
When the Cardinal saw the picture, it gave him a strange mixture of pleasure and pain.
"You have doubtless had a pleasant month," said he, moodily. "I wish you had been Ippolito and I Sebastian."
And when he found that Sebastian had promised Giulia his own picture, he begged him to introducehisportrait into it—which he did.
"Ippolito had, at all events," says one of his chroniclers, "some loveable and estimable qualities, and most of the historians have agood word for him."[9]Doubtless this was owing to the genuine love of letters which made the Medici the idols of the literati. Endowed by Clement the Seventh with immense wealth, he was, says Roscoe, "the patron, the companion, and the rival of all the poets, musicians, and wits of his time. Without territories and without subjects, Ippolito maintained at Bologna a court far more splendid than that of any Italian potentate. His associates and attendants, all of whom could boast of some peculiar merit or distinction which had entitled them to his notice, generally formed a body of about three hundred persons. Shocked at his profusion, which only the revenues of the church were competent to supply, Clement the Seventh is said to have engaged themaestro di casaof Ippolito to remonstrate with him on his conduct, and to request that he would dismiss some of his attendants as unnecessary tohim. 'No,' replied Ippolito, 'I do not retain them at my court because I have occasion for their services, but because they have occasion for mine.'" An answer worthy of a Medici, "His translation of the Eneid into Italian blank verse is considered one of the happiest efforts of the language, and has been frequently reprinted. Amongst the collections of Italian poetry, also, may be found some pieces of his composition, which do credit to his talents."[10]