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
L'erbosa val di Reno e il nobil varco,
Bene è colui d'ogni valore scarco
Qual tuo spirto gentil non innamora,
Che dolcemente mostrasi di fuora,
De' sui atti soavi giammai parco,

E i don', che son d'amor saette ed arco,
Là onde l'alta tu virtù s' infiora.
Quando tu vaga parli, o lieta canti,
Che mover possa duro alpestre legno,
Guardi ciascun agli occhi ed agli orecchi

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;
Grazia sola di sù gli vaglia, innanti
Che 'l disio amoroso al cuor s' invecchi.

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 little shepherd girl, as she is wont,
Goes watering some fair flower that moves
her wonder,

A stranger in that clime, ill flourishing
Far from the comfort of its native spring-
time, -

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
M'accostandosi attorno, e "Perchè scrivi,
Perchè tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana
Verseggiando d' amor, e come t'osi?
Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana,
E de' pensieri lo miglior t' arrivi!"
Così mi van burlando: "Altri rivi,
Altri lidi t'aspettan, ed altre onde,
Nelle cui verdi sponde

Spuntati ad or ad or alla tua chioma
L'immortal guiderdon d' eterne frondi.
Perchè alle spalle tue soverchia soma?"

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,
And of thy thoughts the best betide thee!
So they go mocking at me: "Other rivers,
Other shores await thee, other waters,
On whose green banks

Now, even now, grows for thy hair
The immortal guerdon of unfading fronds.
Why on thy shoulders the superfluous
load?"

Canzone, I will tell thee, and do thoa

DIODATI (I tell it thee with wonder)
That stubborn I, who did disparage love,
And often mocked his wiles, have fallen al-
ready

Where worthiest men sometimes ensnare themselves.

Nor golden tresses nor a vermeil cheek
Undo me thus, but under novel guise
A type of foreign beauty steeps my heart,
A high and modest port, and in the eye-
brows

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,
Esser non può che non sian lo mio sole;
Si mi percuoton forte, come ei suole,
Per l'arene di Libia chi s' invia,
Mentre un caldo vapor (nè senti pria)
Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole,
Che forse amanti nelle lor parole
Chiaman sospir; io non so che si sia.
Parte rinchiusa e turbida si cela

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,
Cannot be other than my sun;
So sore they smite me, as he smiteth

The traveller in the sands of Libia;
From that side where I feel my pain, out-
gushes

A burning vapor, never felt before,
Which mayhap lovers in their language
Call sighs; for me, I know not what it
be.

A part within lurks pent and turbid,
Shaking my breast; a part forth-issuing
Congeals and freezes in the air about;
But whatso findeth passage to my eyes
Is wont to darken all my nights with rain,
Till Thou return, my day-spring crowned
with roses.

SONNET

GIOVANE, piano, e semplicetto amante,
Poichè fuggir me stesso in dubbio sono,
Madonna, a voi del mio cuor l' umil dono
Farò divoto. Io certo a prove tante
L' ebbi fedele, intrepido, costante,
Di pensieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono.
Quando rugge il gran mondo, e scocca il
tuono,

S'arma di se, d' intero diamante;
Tanto del forze e d' invidia sicuro,
Di timori e speranze al popol use,
Quanto d' ingegno e d' alto valor vago,
E di cetra sonora, e delle Muse.
Sol troverete in tal parte men duro
Ove Amor mise l' insanabil ago.

TRANSLATION

A YOUNG, and meek, and simple lover, Perplexed how I shall flee from my own self,

Lady, the humble offering of my heart
To you I dedicate: be sure, in many trials
I found it faithful, constant, valorous,
Gracious of thought, discreet, and good.
When the great sky roars, or bursts the
thunder,

With itself it arms itself, with entire adamant,

As heedless of all violence or spite,
Of vulgar hopes and fears,

As 't is in love with noble gifts and worth,
With the sonorous lyre, and with the

Muses.