In the absence of evidence to the contrary, we must assume that Milton wrote his six Italian poems in 1638-39, during his stay in Italy. Whether the lady whom they celebrate was a creature of flesh and blood or merely an abstraction of the southern type of beauty (sotta nova idea pellegrina bellezza) has been a matter of dispute, though, it would seem, somewhat unnecessarily. The first sonnet gives her dwellingplace as the " grassy vale of Reno;" and as the Reno flows near Bologna, that city is presumably meant. If Milton had been addressing an abstraction he would hardly have given it so definite a local habitation, or, even if he had done so, he would hardly have selected Bologna for the purpose. It was not until late in his Italian sojourn, after he had seen Florence, Rome, and Naples, and after the first keenness of impression had worn off, that he saw Bologna and its women. The conclusion seems in SONNET DONNA leggiadra, il cui bel nome onora E i don', che son d'amor saette ed arco, escapable that the "donna leggiadra" of the sonnets was a Bolognese beauty, whom he encountered perhaps at Florence or Rome, and whose novel charms subdued his susceptible heart. The matter is after all of slight importance; for the poems show that the passion was a manageable one, of the right sort to be played with prettily in a foreign tongue, where necessarily the author's chief concern was to avoid the pitfalls of solecism. He did not succeed altogether in avoiding them; but he did succeed in catching tolerably well the lighter amatory manner of the Italian sonnetteers and canzonists. These poems have been several times translated, notably by Cowper, Langthorne, Masson, and Pattison. The present translator follows Pattison's plan of rendering line for line, in an irregular metre, without rhyme. L'entrata, chi di te si truova indegno; TRANSLATION LADY gay and gracious, whose fair name honors The grassy vale of Reno, and the noble pass, Surely that man is empty of all worth' Whom thy gentle spirit doth not enamour,Thy spirit, that sweetly manifests itself, Never niggard of delightful actions, QUAL in colle aspro, all' imbrunir di sera, L'avezza giovinetta pastorella Va bagnando l' erbetta strana e bella Che mal si spande a disusata spera Fuor di sua natia alma primavera, Così Amor meco insù la lingua snella Desta il fior novo di strania favella, Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera, Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteso, E'l bel Tamigi cangio col bell' Arno. Amor lo volse, ed io all' altrui peso Seppi ch' Amor cosa mai volse indarno. Deh! foss' il mio cuor lento e 'l duro seno A chi pianta dal ciel si buon terreno. TRANSLATION As on a rough hillside, at dusk of evening, A stranger in that clime, ill flourishing Even so doth Love upon my eager tongue Rear the new flower of a foreign speech, While I of thee, haughty and gracious one, Sing, of my own good folk not comprehended, And change fair Thames for the fair Arno. Love willed it, and at others' cost I learned that Love wills nought in vain. Ah, that my slow heart and rude breast might be As kind a soil to Him who plants from Heaven! CANZONE RIDONSI donne e giovani amorosi Spuntati ad or ad or alla tua chioma Canzon, dirotti, e tu per me rispondi: "Dice mia Donna, e 'l suo dir è il mio THE ladies and young lovers laugh at me, Standing in circle round me, and "Why write, Why write thus in a language strange, unmastered, Versifying of love? How dost thou dare it? Speak, as thou wilt have thy hope not vain, Now, even now, grows for thy hair Canzone, I will tell thee, and do thoa DIODATI (I tell it thee with wonder) Where worthiest men sometimes ensnare themselves. Nor golden tresses nor a vermeil cheek The quiet splendor of a lovely darkness, Rich words, and more than from a single language, And song that from her middle hemisphere Might draw the moon o'er-toiled; And from her eyes proceeds so strong a fire, To stop my ears with wax would help me little. SONNET PER certo i bei vostr' occhi, Donna mia, Scossomi il petto, e poi n' uscendo poco Quivi d' attorno o s' agghiaccia o s' ingiela; Ma quanto agli occhi giunge a trovar loco Tutte le notti a me suol far piovose, Finchè mia alba rivien colma di rose. TRANSLATION IN sooth, your beauteous eyes, my Lady, The traveller in the sands of Libia; A burning vapor, never felt before, A part within lurks pent and turbid, SONNET GIOVANE, piano, e semplicetto amante, S'arma di se, d' intero diamante; TRANSLATION A YOUNG, and meek, and simple lover, Perplexed how I shall flee from my own self, Lady, the humble offering of my heart With itself it arms itself, with entire adamant, As heedless of all violence or spite, As 't is in love with noble gifts and worth, Muses. |