DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.42863#0046
24
AN EPISTLE OF ALDO
the two Petrarchs which were bound in Flanders.
They might, it seems to me, have been better finished,
but, to say the truth, I am in the habit of thinking
that a thing for you is never so perfect but that it
might be still more so.” But, whatever Isabella
thought of the binding, she was charmed with the
books themselves. These exquisite editions, printed
in handy little volumes on the finest of paper, exactly
suited her fine taste. In November 1502, she ordered
another Petrarch and Dante, and by degrees the
whole series issued by the Aldine press found their
way into her library. A beautiful little copy of the
Virgil printed in July 1501, bound in dark green and
gold morocco, with illuminated capitals and margins,
is still preserved in the British Museum. It belonged
to Isabella’s second son, Cardinal Ercole Gonzaga,
and bears the date 1527, in his own handwriting.
In 1503, the great printer himself wrote straight
to Isabella, begging her to intercede with her husband
for a certain Federico Ceresara, a Mantuan by birth,
who had killed his own brother in a fit of rage, and
had been in prison for this crime during two years, to
the great distress of the unhappy mother, who was
thus deprived of both her sons. The request was
granted, and, partly out of gratitude to the Marchesa,
but still more in token of his admiration for her love
of letters, Aldo sent her a new volume which he
published in July 1504, with the following epistle in
elegant Latin:—
“Aldus to Isabella, Princess of Mantua, sends
greeting. During these last days I received a visit
from Battista Scalona [the Marquis’s secretary, whom
Isabella had sent to Venice, and charged to bring back
Bellini’s Presepio with him]—a youth distinguished
AN EPISTLE OF ALDO
the two Petrarchs which were bound in Flanders.
They might, it seems to me, have been better finished,
but, to say the truth, I am in the habit of thinking
that a thing for you is never so perfect but that it
might be still more so.” But, whatever Isabella
thought of the binding, she was charmed with the
books themselves. These exquisite editions, printed
in handy little volumes on the finest of paper, exactly
suited her fine taste. In November 1502, she ordered
another Petrarch and Dante, and by degrees the
whole series issued by the Aldine press found their
way into her library. A beautiful little copy of the
Virgil printed in July 1501, bound in dark green and
gold morocco, with illuminated capitals and margins,
is still preserved in the British Museum. It belonged
to Isabella’s second son, Cardinal Ercole Gonzaga,
and bears the date 1527, in his own handwriting.
In 1503, the great printer himself wrote straight
to Isabella, begging her to intercede with her husband
for a certain Federico Ceresara, a Mantuan by birth,
who had killed his own brother in a fit of rage, and
had been in prison for this crime during two years, to
the great distress of the unhappy mother, who was
thus deprived of both her sons. The request was
granted, and, partly out of gratitude to the Marchesa,
but still more in token of his admiration for her love
of letters, Aldo sent her a new volume which he
published in July 1504, with the following epistle in
elegant Latin:—
“Aldus to Isabella, Princess of Mantua, sends
greeting. During these last days I received a visit
from Battista Scalona [the Marquis’s secretary, whom
Isabella had sent to Venice, and charged to bring back
Bellini’s Presepio with him]—a youth distinguished