gentlest creature, the Sovereign Lord, I mean, of Righteousness, summoned that noble being to serve him in glory, under the banner of the blessed Queen, the Virgin Mary, whose name had been ever held in highest reverence on the lips of the sainted Beatrice."* And here we cannot refrain from laying before the reader the just indignation with which the biographer Balbo visits the allegorical interpreters of the reality of the narrative. "Barbarous," says he, "are those writers who, in the abruptness of this passage, in the citation from the Holy Scriptures, in the very resignation yet agony implied in the exclamation, the Sovereign Lord of Righteousness!' in the delicate and affectionate remembrance of the name familiarly appealed to by his lady when living,-a trait which it is impossible for him to have imagined, cannot discern indubitable proofs of a real passion."t "It is," says Foscolo, "a fatal consequence of a deserved celebrity in one department of literature, that the author is regarded as incapable of attaining excellence in any other." Boccaccio's fame as a novelist injured his credit as a biographer; and although his near proximity to the time of Dante entitled his testimony to superior weight, the reality of Dante's attachment to Beatrice, based upon the general tradition, the indirect testimony of collateral circumstances, and the plain confession of the Poet himself, was fancifully explained away by the historian Leonardo Aretino; and his interpretation came finally to be believed by no inconsiderable number of his subsequent commentators. It has been revived, and constitutes, in our opinion, the most specious of the hardy theories propounded by Rossetti; but who can read the concluding cantos of the "Purgatorio," which, in one continuous flow of melody, and in verses of incomparable beauty, describe the interview of Dante and Beatrice in the other world, and not recognize, in the latter, the glorified object of an earthly affection, the beatified spirit which controlled "Le belle membra che son terra sparte." Dante affirms in his "Vita Nuova," that he composed a Serventese, that is to say, a Poem in the Terza Rima, in praise of sixty beautiful ladies of Florence; of these the ninth, he tells us, was Beatrice, the thirtieth the wife of Lapo Gianni. "Who," says Dionisi,§"can credit that of this number Beatrice alone represented * Vita Nuova, p. 53. † Balbo, Vita di Dante, p. 139. La Commedia illustrata da Ugo Foscolo. London, 1842, vol. I. p. 46. We cannot but regret the terms in which this distinguished writer occasionally expresses himself when speaking of some of the most deserving names in the literature of his country; for instance, Tiraboschi and Metastasio. § Anedd. II. p. 43. an art, science, or metaphysical abstraction?" Eclecticism is often as profitable in criticism as in philosophy. With respect to the real existence of Beatrice, the difficulty ceases, if we assent to the conclusion that the affection felt during his youth by a poet of ardent imagination, and a highly religious temperament, for a maiden of extraordinary beauty and surpassing purity of character, settled at her death into an enthusiastic veneration of her virtues; in the language of the father, St. Augustin, through whom the scholars of that age imbibed the philosophy of Plato, Dante learnt amare in creatura creatorem et in factura factorem."* With respect to Dante's subsequent relations with the Portinari, it is worthy notice that the "descendentes de domo de Eliseis et de domo de Portinariis" and Dante Alighieri are named together in the list of exiles excepted out of the amnesty, Sept. 6, 1311. Several individuals bearing the name Folcho Portinari appear on the roll of the Cavalieri of the order of St. Stephen of Tuscany. Two years and a half after this important era in the life of Dante, an event, recorded in the "Vita Nuova," occurred. He was in the 27th year of his age, his lineaments and demeanour those which have been restored to us in the fresco of Giotto, recently brought to light. At this period he presents himself as a young man highly distinguished by all the current accomplishments and erudition of the age, (he had passed through the two courses, the Trivium and the Quadrivium,) the friend of the best poets of the day, of Guido Cavalcanti and Cino da Pistoja, of the painter Giotto, of the musician Casella, the intimate associate of men of elegant and refined taste: he had deserved the gratitude of his country for his services rendered as a Guelf in the bloody field of Campaldino, had acquired a reputation as the author of the most graceful poems then known in the popular language, and was recommended to the gentler sex by the story of his ardent though unfortunate attachment. Speaking of Dante at this early period, Beatrice says, * Consult the dissertation of Fraticelli prefixed to his edition of the “ Vita Nuova," Opere Minori. Firenze, 1839-40. "Virgile figure la raison non éclairée par la révélation, mais c'est aussi le poète Latin que le moyen age a révéré comme un grand sage. Beatrix représente la science des choses divines, mais c'est Beatrix Portinari dont la chaste beauté avoit fait sur Dante dès sa première jeunesse une impression profonde. Q'y a-t-il de si inconcévable dans cette combinaison ?" These are the words of M. A. W. Schlegel, Révue des Deux Mondes, 1836, p. 400, tom. VII. quatrième série. + Delizie degl' eruditi Toscani, tom. V. p. 74; Giano della Bella is also named. See also tom. IV. p. 129, where mention is made of Ricoverus fil. quond. Folchi Portinari Camerarius Cameræ Florentiæ, 1299. He must have been the brother of Beatrice. "Questi fu tal nella sua vita novella Purg. XXX. 115. One day an event occurs like that which gave rise to the fatal feud between the Buondelmonti and the Uberti, so familiar to the reader of Florentine history. In passing through the streets of Florence, Dante beholds at a window a young gentlewoman of great beauty, who appears to regard him with an expression of pity, conduct which she repeats upon subsequent occasions. Her countenance, pale, it might be with love, "quasi d'amore," reminds him of the habitual look of his Beatrice. The reminiscence which she suggests begets interest, interest inspires sympathy, and sympathy affection. At last he can hardly tear himself from her side. It is evident that again he has become attached: its object is styled in the " Vita Nuova," the "donna consolatrice,' whom with Balbo we would willingly believe to be no other person than Gemma de' Donati, subsequently his wife. But not to enter upon this debateable ground of controversy, suffice it to remark, that if this conjecture is well founded, his wife could have been no way deceived by him, but must have been aware that she had wedded one whose heart was devoted to the memory of the buried Beatrice. Their youngest child and only daughter was also named Beatrice, a striking proof that the purity of Dante's first attachment was admitted and appreciated by his wife. The disposition to sympathise with and exaggerate the misfortunes of men of lofty genius, has, it is probable, invested many circumstances in the life of Dante with a false and deceptive character; there is not one where the conclusions drawn appear less based upon facts than those which refer to his wedded life. In the year 1293, or thereabouts, according to the general opinion, Alighieri, then in the 28th year of his age, was induced by his friends to enter the married state. A suitable, perhaps an ambitious match, presented itself in the person of a lady of one of the principal families, inferior to his only in the single circumstance of antiquity, but superior in all those other particulars which usually recommend a marriage of prudence. Of Gemma de' Donati little is known, but the fact of her marriage with Dante; her having, previously to his banishment, borne to him seven children; and her stay in Florence, after his departure, with her young family; which, according to the narrative of Boccaccio, she brought up with great prudence and good management upon the slender means claimed as her dower out of her husband's possessions, and on that ground rescued from the general confiscation which swept away his property. There is no evidence of their having lived together, or even met, after his exile; nor is it known when she died, although undoubtedly she survived her husband. It has been frequently noted, that in no part of the works of Dante is any express mention made of his wife; and as there is no doubt that she did not share his banishment, these two circumstances have led many to affirm that Dante was unfortunate in his marriage, and that his wife entertained little or no affection for him,-inferences which recent writers have resisted with great force of reasoning, and critical acumen. Boccaccio, after alluding to the inconveniences of the married state, proceeds thus:"Certainly I do not mean to assert that Dante had to encounter them, for I have no means of knowing that such was the case; but true it is, whatever the cause, that after he had once separated from her who had been given to him as a consolation in affliction, neither would he go where he was likely to encounter her, nor would he ever permit her to come to him,—and this, notwithstanding she had borne to him many children. Let not any one therefore conclude, from what I have here said, that a man ought not to marry: on the contrary, I regard it as a highly laudable act, although not for every one. Wise men should leave wedlock to the rich, to princes, and to labourers, and should devote themselves to the best spouse of all, philosophy." In commenting on this passage, Foscolo cites Montaigne, who affirmed that he would not marry" sagesse elle-même." "J'eusse fuy de l'espouser si elle m'eust voulu:" "Est mihi dulce magis resoluto vivere collo."* With respect to the assertion of Boccaccio, that Dante would never allow his wife to share his exile, the fact may be undeniable, and yet rather a proof of disinterested affection than of any want of it on his part. At first he might fail to summon her to him, buoyed up by the hope of speedily rejoining her in his native city; he might, taught by the vicissitudes of the factions, cherish the expectation that something might occur to turn the tide of popular sentiment in his favour, or even to occasion his restoration by force. What had he to offer her?—the lot of a proud and banished noble, of fortunes always precarious, and at last despeIf the bitterness of his destinies once wrung from his haughty feelings the admission implied in the rate. "Thou shalt by trial know what bitter fare WRIGHT. what an aggravation of his misery, had his wife and children been the companions of his sad wanderings, the associates in his humiliating visits! Conceive the exiled noble attended on these occasions by his wife and seven children, the youngest, the latest daughter of his affections, the infant Beatrice, a child yet in arms! The frequency of his changes of domicile, in Romagna, Lombardy, and the Lunigiana, as well as in Tuscany, have been well ascertained; it is credibly asserted that he visited Paris, as, according to some, he did even London and Oxford. Had Gemma Donati absented herself from Florence, where she was, according to the account of Boccaccio, providing for the necessities of her young family with toil to which she had not been bred, "con disusata industria," in all probability even the slender stock which she had contrived with difficulty to save from the wreck of her husband's fortune would have been lost; her own family, his personal enemies, incensed; and the wretchedness of her husband's situation aggravated. Perhaps, in a city torn by contending factions and harassed by hourly broils, her woman's heart was sorely tried between rival parties and houses, influenced on the one hand by her sisterly and filial affections, by the strength of the prejudices in which she was born-and on the other, by the tender emotions of the mother and the wife.* And Dante, in his appreciation of the struggle which was taking place, may have himself confirmed her in the resolution of abiding in the midst of her relatives, and near those branches of his own family who were not involved in his sentence. Why may not the full consciousness of her excellences have suggested the words which he places in the mouth of Cacciaguida, who foretels his exile, and proceeds thus ? "Tu lascierai ogni cosa diletta Più caramente, e questo è quello strale Parad. XVII. 55. "Thou shalt depart, and from each pleasant thing WRIGHT. * "Il est difficile," says M. Artaud, (Hist. de Dante, p. 3,) "de chercher les querelles d'un mauvais ménage-là, ou en moins de huit ans une femme a donné sept enfans à son epoux." Foscolo had made the same remark. VOL. III.-NO. I. C |