INTRODUCTION TO THE MORGANTE MAGGIORE.

THE translation of the tedious Morgante of Pulci was chiefly executed at Ravenna in 1820, and was first published in "The Liberal." Such was the care bestowed by Lord Byron upon the task, that he only accomplished two stanzas a night, which was his principal time for composition, and such was his opinion of his success, that he always maintained that there was no such translation in the English language, and never would be such another. He appears to have thought that its merit consisted in the verbum pro verbo closeness of the version, rendered doubly difficult by the character of the poem, which, besides being humorous, is full of vulgar Florentine idioms, abrupt transitions, ungrammatical constructions, and sententious obscurity. Thus the translation was an exercise of skill in the art, and can only be estimated by continuous reference to the original Italian, where the exigencies, moreover, of rhyme, are far less felt than in English, and which Pulci often satisfied by yielding sense up to sound. The immense labour of mastering these accumulated obstacles explains Lord Byron's over-estimate of the piece. "Why," he says to Mr. Murray, in 1821, "don't you publish my Pulci,-the best thing I ever wrote ?" But, unless forced up from its natural level, it is impossible for a stream to rise higher than its source, and the translation, from its very fidelity, was as much below "Childe Harold and "Don Juan" as Pulci was an inferior poet to Lord Byron. The first edition of the original Morgante was published at Venice in 1481. The characters are derived from some chivalrous romances of the thirteenth century. A question much mooted is whether Pulci designed a burlesque, or a serious poem-Ugo Foscolo maintaining that the air of ridicule arose from the contrast between the absurdity of the materials and the effort of the author to render them sublime; while Sismondi contends that the belief in the marvellous being much diminished, the adventures which formerly were heard with gravity could not be reproduced without a mixture of mockery. Hallam agrees with the latter, and thinks that Pulci meant to scoff at the heroes whom duller poets held up to admiration. If he really intended to ennoble his subject he was at least unsuccessful, and had strange ideas of dignity. There has been equal difference of opinion upon the parts of the poem which touch on religion. Ugo Foscolo considers Pulci a devout Catholic who laughed at particular dogmas and divines; Sismondi doubts whether to charge him with gross bigotry or profane derision; and Hallam thinks that, under pretence of ridiculing the intermixture of theology with romance, he had an intention of exposing religion to contempt. Whatever might have been his theoretical creed, he shows by his mode of treating sacred topics that he was entirely destitute of reverence. Lord Byron was asked to allow some suppressions, to which he responded, that Pulci must answer for his own impiety.

IL MORGANTE MAGGIORE.

CANTO PRIMO.

I.

In principio era il Verbo appresso a Dio;
Ed era Iddio il Verbo, e 'l Verbo lui:
Questo era nel principio, al parer mio;
E nulla si può far sanza costui :
Però, giusto Signor benigno e pio,
Mandami solo un de gli angeli tui,
Che m'accompagni, e rechimi a memoria
Una famosa antica e degna storia.

II.

E tu Vergine, figlia, e madre, e sposa
Di quel Signor, che ti dette le chiave
Del cielo e dell' abisso, e d' ogni cosa,
Quel dì che Gabriel tuo ti disse Ave!
Perchè tu se' de' tuo' servi pietosa,
Con dolce rime, e stil grato e soave,
Ajuta i versi miei benignamente,
E'nfino al fine allumina la mente.

III.

Era nel tempo, quando Filomena
Con la sorella si lamenta e plora,
Che si ricorda di sua antica pena,
E pe' boschetti le ninfe innamora,
E Febo il carro temperato mena,
Che 'l suo Fetonte l'ammaestra ancora.
Ed appariva appunto all' orizzonte,
Tal che Titon si graffiava la fronte.

THE MORGANTE MAGGIORE.

CANTO THE FIRST.

I.

In the beginning was the Word next God;
God was the Word, the Word no less was he:
This was in the beginning, to my mode

Of thinking, and without him nought could be: Therefore, just Lord! from out thy high abode, Benign and pious, bid an angel flee,

One only, to be my companion, who

Shall help my famous, worthy, old song through.

II.

And thou, oh Virgin! daughter, mother, bride, Of the same Lord, who gave to you each key Of heaven, and hell, and every thing beside,

The day thy Gabriel said "All hail!" to thee, Since to thy servants pity's ne'er denied,

With flowing rhymes, a pleasant style and free, Be to my verses then benignly kind,

And to the end illuminate my mind.

III.

'Twas in the season when sad Philomel
Weeps with her sister, who remembers and
Deplores the ancient woes which both befel,
And makes the nymphs enamour'd, to the hand
Of Phaeton by Phoebus loved so well

His car (but temper'd by his sire's command) Was given, and on the horizon's verge just now Appear'd, so that Tithonus scratch'd his brow:

IV.

Quand'io varai la mia barchetta, prima
Per ubbidir chi sempre ubbidir debbe
La mente, e faticarsi in prosa e in rima,
E del mio Carlo Imperador m'increbbe ;
Che so quanti la penna ha posto in cima,
Che tutti la sua gloria prevarrebbe :
E stata quella istoria, a quel ch'i' veggio,
Di Carlo male intesa, e scritta peggio.

V.

Diceva già Lionardo Aretino,

Che s'egli avesse avuto scrittor degno,
Com' egli ebbe un Ormanno il suo Pipino
Ch' avesse diligenzia avuto e ingegno;
Sarebbe Carlo Magno un uom divino;
Però ch' egli ebbe gran vittorie e regno,
E fece per la chiesa e per la fede
Certo assai più, che non si dice o crede.

VI.

Guardisi ancora a san Liberatore
Quella badía là presso a Manoppello,
Giù ne gli Abbruzzi fatta per suo onore,
Dove fu la battaglia e'l gran flaggello
D'un re pagan, che Carlo imperadore
Uccise, e tanto del sua popol fello:
E vedesi tante ossa, e tanto il sanno,
Che tutte in Giusaffà poi si vedranno.

VII.

Ma il mondo cieco e ignorante non prezza
Le sue virtù, com'io vorrei vedere :
E tu, Fiorenza, de la sua grandezza
Possiedi, e sempre potrai possedere
Ogni costume ed ogni gentilezza
Che si potesse aquistare o avere
Col senno col tesoro o con la lancia
Dal nobil sangue e venuto di Francia.

IV.

When I prepared my bark first to obey,
As it should still obey, the helm, my mind,
And carry prose or rhyme, and this my lay
Of Charles the Emperor, whom you will find
By several pens already praised; but they
Who to diffuse his glory were inclined,
For all that I can see in prose or verse,
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
His virtues as I wish to see them: thou,
Florence, by his great bounty don't arise,
And hast, and may have, if thou wilt allow,
All proper customs and true courtesies:

Whate'er thou hast acquired from then till now,
With knightly courage, treasure, or the lance,
Is sprung from out the noble blood of France.