|Fed, paid, and pamper'd by the very mer By whom his muse and morals had been maul'd He had written much blank verse, and blanker prose And more of both than any body knows. XCIX. He had written Wesley's life :-here, turning round With notes and preface, all that most allures C. Satan bow'd, and was silent. "Well, if yon, My offer, what says Michael? There are few As it was once, but I would make you shine Like your own trumpet. By the way, my own Has more of brass in it, and is as well blown. CI. "But talking about trumpets, here's my Vision Now you shall judge, all people; yes, you sha Judge with my judgment, and by my decision Be guided who shall enter heaven or fall. I settle all these things by intuition, Times present, past, to come, heaven, hell, and all Like King Alfonso. When I thus see double, I save the Deity some worlds of trouble." CII. He ceased, and drew forth an MS.; and DO Those grand heroics acted as a spell : The angels stopp'd their ears and plied their pinion, The devils ran howling, deafen'd, down to hell; The ghosts fled, gibbering, for their own dominion, (For 'tis not yet decided where they dwell, And I leave every man to his own opinion ;) CV. He first sank to the bottom-like his works, It may be, still, like dull books on a shelf, In his own den, to scrawl some "Life," or " Vision," • A drowned body lies at the bottom till rotten; it then floats, as most peopio know. CVI. As for the rest, to come to the conclusion Was, that King George slipp'd into heaven for MORGANTE MAGGIORE, DI MESSER LUIGI PULCI. ADVERTISEMENT. (the Ordinary in Jonathan Wild-or Scott, for the exquisite use of his Covenanters in the "Tales of THE Morgante Maggiore, of the first canto of my Landlord." which this translation is offered, divides with the In the following translation I have used the Orlando Innamorato the honor of having formed liberty of the original with the proper names; and suggested the style and story of Ariosto. The as Pulci uses Gan, Ganellon, or Ganellone; Carlo, great defects of Boiardo, were his treating too seri-Carlomagno, or Carlomano; Rondel, or Rondello, ously the narratives of chivalry, and his harsh style. &c., as it suits his convenience; so has the transAriosto, in his continuation, by a judicious mixture lator. In other respects the version is faithful to of the gayety of Pulci, has avoided the one; and the best of the translator's ability in combining his Berni, in his reformation of Boiardo's poem, has interpretation of the one language with the not corrected the other. Pulci may considered as the very easy task of reducing it to the same versificaprecursor and model of Berni altogether, as he has tion in the other. The reader, on comparing it partly been to Ariosto, however inferior to both his with the original, is requested to remember that copyists. He is no less the founder of a new style the antiquated language of Pulci, however pure, of poetry very lately sprung up in England. I is not easy to the generality of Italians themselves, allude to that of the ingenious Whistlecraft. The from its great mixture of Tuscan proverbs; and serious poems on Roncesvalles in the same lan- he may therefore be more indulgent to the present guage, and more particularly the excellent one attempt. How far the translator has succeeded, of Mr. Merivale, are to be traced to the same and whether or no he shall continue the work, are questions which the public will decide. He was It has never yet been decided entirely whether induced to make the experiment partly by his love Pulci's intention was or was not to deride the for, and partial intercourse with, the Italian lanreligion which is one of his favorite topics. It guage, of which it is so easy to acquire a slight appears to me, that such an intention would have knowledge, and with which it is so nearly imposbeen no less hazardous to the poet than to the sible for a foreigner to become accurately conversant. priest, particulary in that age and country; The Italian language is like a capricious beauty, and the permission to publish the poem, and its who accords her smiles to all, her favors to few; reception among the classes of Italy, prove that it and sometimes least to those who have courted her neither was nor is so interpreted. That he intended longest. The translator wished also to present in to ridicule the monastic life, and suffered his imagi- an English dress a part at least of a poem never yet nation to play with the simple dulness of his rendered into a northern language; at the same converted giant, seems evident enough; but surely time that it has been the original of some of the it were as unjust to accuse him of irreligion most celebrated productions on this side of the on this account, as to denounce Fielding for his Alps, as well of those recent experiments in poetry Parson Adams, Barnabas, Thwackum, Supple, and in England which have been already mentioned. source. XXI. The monks could pass the convent gate no more, Nor leave their cells for water or for wood; Orlando knock'd, but none would ope, before Unto the prior it at length seem'd good; Enter'd, he said that he was taught to adore Him who was born of Mary's holiest blood, And was baptized a Christian; and then show'd How to the abbey he had found his road. XXII. Said the abbot, "You are welcome; what is mine To be rusticity, you shall receive "When hither to inhabit first we came These mountains, albeit that they are obscure, As you perceive, yet without fear or blame They seem'd to promise an asylum sure: From savage brutes alone, too fierce to tame, 'Twas fit our quiet dwelling to secure; But now, if here we'd stay, we needs must guard Against domestic beasts with watch and ward. XXIV. "These make us stand, in fact, upon the watch; "Our ancient fathers living the desert in, Our bounds, or taste the stones shower'd down for XXVI. "The third, Morgante, 's savagest by far; he Plucks up pines, beeches, poplar-trees, and oaks, And flings them, our community to bury; And all that I can do but more provokes." While thus they parley in the cemetery, A stone from one of their gigantic strokes, Which nearly crush'd Rondell, came tumbling over, So that he took a long leap under cover. XXVII. "For God sake, cavalier, come in with speed; The manna's falling now," the abbot cried. "This fellow does not wish my horse should feed, Dear abbot," Roland unto him replied. "Of restiveness he'd cure him had he need; That stone seems with good will and aim applied." The holy father said, "I don't deceive: They'll one day fling the mountain, I believe " XXVIII Orlando bade them take care of Rondello, I would dissuade you, baron, from this strife, XXIX. 'That Passamont has in his hand three dartsSuch slings, clubs, ballast-stones, that yield you must; You know that giants have much stouter hearts The abbot sign'd the great cross on his front, As the abbot had directed, kept the line Right to the usual haunt of Passamont; Who, seeing him alone in this design, Survey'd him fore and aft with eyes observant, Then ask'd him, "If he wish'd to stay as servant?" XXXI. And promised him an office of great ease. But, said Orlando, "Saracen insane! I come to kill you, if it shall so please God, not to serve as footboy in your train; You with his monks so oft have broke the peaceVile dog! 'tis past his patience to sustain." The giant ran to fetch his arms, quite furious, When he received an answer so injurious. XXXII. [ing And being returned to where Orlando stood, And head, and set both head and helmet ringing, Then Passamont, who thought him slain outright, As to desert would almost be a wrong. XXXIV. And loud he shouted, "Giant, where dost go? XXXV. Orlando had Cortana bare in hand, To split the head in twain was what he schemed:Cortana clave the skull like a true brand, And pagan Passamont died unredeem'd. XXXVI. Saying, "What grace to me thou'st given' I know my life was saved by thee from heaven XXXVII. And having said thus much, he went his way; To root from out a bank a rock or two. "How think'st thou, glutton, such a stone to throw?" When Alabaster heard his deep voice ring, He suddenly betook him to his sling, XXXVIII. And hurl'd a fragment of a size so large, That if it had in fact fulfill'd its mission, And Roland not avail'd him of his targe, There would have been no need of a physician. Orlando set himself in turn to charge, And in his bulky bosom made incision With all his sword. The lout fell, but, o'erthrown, he However by no means forgot Macone. XXXIX. Morgante had a palace in his mode, Composed of branches, logs of wood, and earth, And stretch'd himself at ease on this abode, And shut himself at night within his berth. Orlando knock'd, and knock'd again, to goad The giant from his sleep; and he came forth, The door to open, like a crazy thing, For a rough dream had shook him slumbering. |