DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.61902#0047
THE MAKERS OF FLORENCE.
25
my good desires. But since it pleases her to deny me this greeting,
my lord Love, in his mercy,has placed all my happiness in that which
cannot be taken from me.’ Then these ladies began to talk together
among themselves; and as one sees rain falling mingled with beauti-
ful snow, thus I seem to see their words mingled with sighs. And
when they had thus talked among themselves, the lady who first
spoke to me said these words: ‘We pray thee tell us in what thy
happiness now stands ? ’ And I replied, ‘ In the words that praise my
lady;’ to which she replied, ‘If thou sayest what is true, thou
shouldst have acted differently.’ And 1, musing on these words,
abashed went away from them, saying to myself, ‘ Since there is so
much blessedness in the words which celebrate my lady, why should
other talk be mine ?’ And thus I made up my mind to take for the
subject of my words always that which should be to the praise of
this very gentle one.”
The image of the “ rain mingled with beautiful snow,”
which he compares to the words and sighs of these gentili
donne, is thoroughly Dantesque, and will remind the
reader of many a similar similitude. He went away with
his heart full, and breathed forth his address to the
“Donne ch’ civet e intelletto d’ amove ”—after his fashion.
He has always a cluster of these gentle ladies (a phrase
which, however, does not express all the sweetness of the
gentil donna} about him in the soft radiance of this strange
love-tale.
We may pause here, however, and turn a little to the
ruder life outside of the “ Vita Nuova,” yet going on all
the same, without interruption, though without any such
mystic record. Young Dante, though he would fain make
us believe it, did not spend all his days singing nothing
but the praises of Beatrice, speaking to none but those
who had understanding in love, breaking his heart over
the thought that his lady no longer recognized him when
they met. Other incidents were in his life, rapt as it
would seem, in that sad ecstatic vision. While Beatrice
was still living, at the very time perhaps when his heart
was wrung to see her pass without sign or word, there
25
my good desires. But since it pleases her to deny me this greeting,
my lord Love, in his mercy,has placed all my happiness in that which
cannot be taken from me.’ Then these ladies began to talk together
among themselves; and as one sees rain falling mingled with beauti-
ful snow, thus I seem to see their words mingled with sighs. And
when they had thus talked among themselves, the lady who first
spoke to me said these words: ‘We pray thee tell us in what thy
happiness now stands ? ’ And I replied, ‘ In the words that praise my
lady;’ to which she replied, ‘If thou sayest what is true, thou
shouldst have acted differently.’ And 1, musing on these words,
abashed went away from them, saying to myself, ‘ Since there is so
much blessedness in the words which celebrate my lady, why should
other talk be mine ?’ And thus I made up my mind to take for the
subject of my words always that which should be to the praise of
this very gentle one.”
The image of the “ rain mingled with beautiful snow,”
which he compares to the words and sighs of these gentili
donne, is thoroughly Dantesque, and will remind the
reader of many a similar similitude. He went away with
his heart full, and breathed forth his address to the
“Donne ch’ civet e intelletto d’ amove ”—after his fashion.
He has always a cluster of these gentle ladies (a phrase
which, however, does not express all the sweetness of the
gentil donna} about him in the soft radiance of this strange
love-tale.
We may pause here, however, and turn a little to the
ruder life outside of the “ Vita Nuova,” yet going on all
the same, without interruption, though without any such
mystic record. Young Dante, though he would fain make
us believe it, did not spend all his days singing nothing
but the praises of Beatrice, speaking to none but those
who had understanding in love, breaking his heart over
the thought that his lady no longer recognized him when
they met. Other incidents were in his life, rapt as it
would seem, in that sad ecstatic vision. While Beatrice
was still living, at the very time perhaps when his heart
was wrung to see her pass without sign or word, there