Transfused, transfigurated: and the line With thought and beings of our thought reflected, Art shall resume and equal even the sway Ye shall be taught by Ruin to revive The Grecian forms at least from their decay, In Roman works wrought by Italian hands, Such as all flesh shall flock to kneel in ne'er And lay their sins at this huge gate of heaven. The genius of my country shall arise, Fragrant as fair, and recognised afar, Who toils for nations may be poor indeed, But free; who sweats for monarchs is no more Oh, Power that rulest and inspirest! how From lowliness, or tempted thence in vain, The inner war of passions deep and fierce? [roof, Thy pride, thy wealth, thy freedom, and even that, The most infernal of all evils here, The ashes thou shalt ne'er obtain-Alas! Stands sleek and slavish, bowing at his door. [fee'd, And make them own the Prophet in his tomb. THE MORGANTE MAGGIORE OF FULCI. ADVERTISEMENT. THE Morgante Maggiore, of the first canto of which this translation is offered, divides with the Orlando Innamorato the honour of having formed and suggested the style and story of Ariosto. The great defects of Boiardo were his treating too seriously the narratives of chivalry, and his harsh style. Ariosto, in his continuation, by a judicious mixture of the gaiety of Pulci, has avoided the one; and Berni, in his reformation of Boiardo's poem, has corrected the other. Pulci may be considered as the precursor and model of Berni altogether, as he has partly been to Ariosto, however inferior to both his copyists. He is no less the founder of a new style of poetry very lately sprung up in England. I allude to that of the ingenious Whistlecraft. The serious poems on Roncesvalles in the same language, and more particularly the excellent one of Mr. Merivale, are to be traced to the same source. It has never yet been decided entirely whether Pulci's intention was or was not to deride the religion which is one of his favourite topics. It appears to me, that such an intention would have been no less hazardous to the poet than to the priest, particularly in that age and country; and the permission to publish the poem, and its reception among the classics of Italy, prove that it neither was nor is so interpreted. That he intended to ridicule the monastic life, and suffered his imagination to play with the simple dulness of his converted giant, seems evident enough; but surely it were as unjust to accuse him of irreligion on this account, as to denounce Fielding for his Parson Adams, Barnabas, Thwackum, Supple, and the Ordinary in Jonathan Wild,-or Scott, for the exquisite use of his Covenanters in the "Tales of my Landlord." In the following translation I have used the liberty of the original with the proper names: as Pulci uses Gan, Ganellon, or Ganellone; Carlo, Carlomagno, or Carlomano; Rondel, or Rondello, &c., as it suits his convenience; so has the translator. In other respects the version is faithful to the best of the translator's ability in combining his interpretation of the one language with the not very easy task of reducing it to the same versification in the other. The reader, on comparing it with the original, is requested to remember that the antiquated language of Pulci, however pure, is not easy to the generality of Italians themselves, from its great mixture of Tuscan proverbs; and he may therefore be more indulgent to the present attempt. How far the translator has succeeded, and whether or no he shall continue the work, are questions which the public will decide. He was induced to make the experiment partly by his love for, and partial intercourse with, the Italian language, of which it is so easy to acquire a slight knowledge, and with which it is so nearly impossible for a foreigner to become accurately conversant. The Italian language is like a capricious beauty, who accords her smiles to all, her favours to few, and sometimes least to those who have courted her longest. The translator wished also to present in an English dress a part at least of a poem never yet rendered into a northern language; at the same time that it has been the original of some of the most celebrated productions on this side of the Alps, as well as of those recent experiments in poetry in England which have been already mentioned. IV. When I prepared my bark first to obey, Of Charles the Emperor, whom you will find Have understood Charles badly, and wrote worse. V. Leonardo Aretino said already, That if, like Pepin, Charles had had a writer Of genius quick, and diligently steady, No hero would in history look brighter; He in the cabinet being always ready, And in the field a most victorious fighter, Who for the church and Christian faith had wrought, Certes, far more than yet is said or thought. VI. You still may see at St. Liberatore, The abbey, no great way from Manopell, Erected in the Abruzzi to his glory, Because of the great battle in which fell A pagan king, according to the story, And felon people whom Charles sent to hell: And there are bones so many, and so many, Near them Giusaffa's would seem few, if any. VII. But the world, blind and ignorant, don't prize Whate'er thou hast acquired from then till now, VIII. Twelve paladins had Charles in court, of whom In Roncesvalles, as the villain plann'd too, IX. 'T was Christmas-day; in Paris all his court The much renown'd St. Dennis being the cause; X. Avolio, and Arino, and Othone Of Normandy, and Richard Paladin, Wise Hamo, and the ancient Salamone, Walter of Lion's Mount and Baldovin, Who was the son of the sad Ganellone, Were there, exciting too much gladness in The son of Pepin:-when his knights came hither, He groan'd with joy to see them all together. XI. But watchful Fortune, lurking, takes good heed Ever some bar 'gainst our intents to bring, While Charles reposed him thus, in word and deed, Orlando ruled court, Charles, and everything; Curst Gan, with envy bursting, had such need To vent his spite, that thus with Charles the king One day he openly began to say, "Orlando must we always then obey? XII. "6 A thousand times I 've been about to say, Orlando too presumptuously goes on; Here are we, counts, kings, dukes, to own thy sway, Hamo, and Otho, Ogier, Solomon, Each have to honour thee and to obey; But he has too much credit near the throne, Which we won't suffer, but are quite decided By such a boy to be no longer guided. XIII. "And even at Aspramont thou didst begin The victory was Almonte's else; his sight He kept upon the standard, and the laurels In fact and fairness are his earning, Charles. XIV. "If thou rememberest being in Gascony, When there advanced the nations out of Spain, ""Tis fit thy grandeur should dispense relief, XVI. And with the sword he would have murder'd Gan, Wanted but little to have slain him there; Then forth alone from Paris went the chief, And burst and madden'd with disdain and grief. XVII. From Ermellina, consort of the Dane, He took Cortana, and then took Rondell, And on towards Brara prick'd him o'er the plain; And when she saw him coming, Aldabelle Stretch'd forth her arms to clasp her lord again : Orlando, in whose brain all was not well, As "Welcome, my Orlando, home," she said, Raised up his sword to smite her on the head. XXV. Our ancient fathers living the desert in, For just and holy works were duly fed; Think not they lived on locusts sole, 't is certain That manna was rain'd down from heaven instead; But here 't is fit we keep on the alert in [for bread, Our bounds, or taste the stones shower'd down From off yon mountain daily raining faster, And flung by Passamont and Alabaster. XXVI. "The third, Morgante, 's savagest by far; he 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, Who flung at my good horse yon corner-stone." Said the abbot, "Let not my advice seem shallow; As to a brother dear I speak alone; 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 And promised him an office of great ease. I come to kill you, if it shall so please XXXII. And being return'd to where Orlando stood, [ing 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?" 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, Yet harsh and haughty, as he lay he bann'd, And most devoutly Macon still blasphemed; But while his crude, rude blasphemies he heard, Orlando thank'd the Father and the Word,XXXVI. Saying, "What grace to me thou 'st this day given! I know my life was saved by thee from heaven, I At least return once more to Carloman." XXXVII. [found. Morgante said, "Oh, gentle cavalier! Now by thy God say me no villany; The Saracen rejoin'd in humble tone, And Macon would not pity my condition; Hence to thy God, who for ye did atone Upon the cross, preferr'd I my petition; His timely succour set me safe and free, And I a Christian am disposed to be." XLIV. Orlando answer'd, "Baron just and pious, "The Lord descended to the virgin breast Your renegado god, and worship mine, |