Pastoral Poetry & Pastoral Drama Part 2

Vaghe le montanine e pastorelle, Donde venite s leggiadre e belle?--

Vegnam dall' alpe, presso ad un boschetto; Picciola capannella e il nostro sito; Col padre e colla madre in picciol tetto, Dove natura ci ha sempre nutrito, Torniam la sera dal prato fiorito Ch' abbiam pasciute nostre pecorelle.--

Ben si posson doler vostre bellezze, Poiche tra valli e monti le mostrate, Che non e terra di s grandi altezze Che voi non foste degne ed onorate.

Ora mi dite, se vi contentate Di star nell' alpe cos poverelle?--

Piu si contenta ciascuna di noi Gire alla mandria, dietro alla pastura, Piu che non fate ciascuna di voi Gire a danzare dentro a vostre mura; Ricchezza non cerchiam, ne piu ventura, Se non be' fiori, e facciam ghirlandelle[41].

Other writers besides Sacchetti produced songs of the sort, but in all alike the strictly pastoral element was accidental, and merged insensibly into the more delicately romantic of the _novelle_ themes. The following lines touch on a situation familiar in later pastoral and also found in English ballad poetry. They are by Alesso Donati, a contemporary of Sacchetti's. A nun sings:

La dura corda e 'l vel bruno e la tonica Gittar voglio e lo scapolo Che mi tien qui rinchiusa e fammi monica; Poi teco a guisa d'a.s.setato giovane, Non gia che si sobbarcoli, Venir me n' voglio ove fortuna piovane:

E son contenta star per serva e cuoca, Che men mi cocer ch' ora mi cuoca[42].

But if pastoralism made its appearance in the lyric, the lyric equally influenced pastoral, for it is in the songs of the fifteenth century that we first meet with that spirit of graceful melancholy sighing over the transitoriness of earthly things, the germ of the _volutta idillica_ of the _Aminta_ and the _Pastor fido._ This vein is strong in Lorenzo's charming carnival songs, which at once recall Villon's burden, 'Ou sont les neiges d'antan?' and antic.i.p.ate Ta.s.so's warning:

Cangia, cangia consiglio, Pazzerella che sei; Che il pentirsi da.s.sezzo nulla giova.

The 'triumph' of _Bacchus and Ariadne_, introduced with amorous nymphs and satyrs, has the refrain:

Quant' e bella giovinezza, Che si fugge tuttavia!

Chi vuol esser lieto, sia: Di doman non c' e certezza.

The flower of lyric melancholy is already full blown. So, too, in another carnival song of his:

Or che val nostra bellezza?

Se si perde, poco vale.

Viva amore e gentilezza!

_Gentilezza, morbidezza_--the yielding fancy in the disguise of pity, the nerveless languor that pa.s.ses for beauty--such is the dominant note of the song upon men's lips in the troublous times of the renaissance[43].

Another of the outlying realms of pastoral is the mythological tale, more or less directly imitated from Ovid. The first to introduce it in vernacular literature was Boccaccio, who in his _Ninfale fiesolano_ uses a pagan allegory to convey a favourite _novella_ theme. The shepherd Affrico loves a nymph of Diana, and the tale ends by the G.o.ddess changing her faithless votary into a fountain. It is written in somewhat c.u.mbrous _ottava rima_, and seldom shows any conspicuous power of narrative.

Belonging to the same cla.s.s of composition, though of a very different order of poetic merit, is Lorenzo's wonderfully graceful tale of _Ambra_.

The grace lies in the telling, for the plot was probably already stale when Phoebus and Daphne were protagonists. The poem recounts how the wood-nymph Ambra, beloved of Lauro, is pursued by the river-G.o.d Ombrone, one of Arno's tributary divinities, and praying to Diana in her hour of need, is by her transformed into a rock[44]. Lorenzo's _Selva d'amore_ and _Caccia col falcone_ might also be mentioned in the same connexion.

Less pastoral in motive and less connected in narrative, but of even greater importance in the formation of pastoral taste, is the famous _Giostra_ written in honour of the young Giuliano de' Medici. I have already more than once had occasion to mention its author, Angelo Ambrogini, better known from the place of his birth as Poliziano or Politian[45], the contemporary, dependent, and fellow-litterateur of Lorenzo il Magnifico, and the greatest scholar and learned writer of the Italian renaissance. As the author of the _Orfeo_ he will occupy our attention when we come to trace the evolution of the pastoral drama.

Though he left no poems belonging to the recognized forms of pastoral composition, his work constantly borders upon the kind, and evinces a genuine sympathy with rustic life which makes the ascription to him of the already quoted modernization of Sacchetti not inappropriate. He left several other pieces of a similar nature, some of which at least are known to be adaptations of popular songs[46]. Such, for instance, is the irregular _canzone_ beginning:

La pastorella si leva per tempo Menando le caprette a pascer fuora, Di fuora, fuora: la traditora Co' suoi begli occhi la m' innamora, E fa di mezza notte apparir giorno.

The _Giostra_ is composed, like its predecessors, in the octave stanza, and presents a series of pictures drawn from cla.s.sical mythology or from the poet's own imagination, adorned with all the physical beauty the study of antiquity could supply and a rich and refined taste crystallize into chastest jewellery of verse[47]. This blending of luxuriance and delicacy is the characteristic quality of Poliziano's and Lorenzo's poetry. It is admirably expressed in the phrase of a recent critic, 'the decorum of things exquisite.' After the lapse of another half-century, during which the renaissance advanced from its graceful youth to the full bloom of its maturity, appeared the _Ninfa tiberina_ of Francesco Maria Molza. 'The _volutta idillica_[48],' writes Symonds, 'which opened like a rosebud in the _Giostra_, expands full petals in the _Ninfa tiberina_; we dare not shake them, lest they fall.' Like the earlier poem it possesses little narrative unity--the taie of Eurydice introduced by way of ill.u.s.tration occupies more than a third of the whole--but every point is made the occasion of minute decoration of the richest beauty. It was written for Faustina Mancina, a celebrated courtesan, whose empire lay till the day of her death over the papal city. The wealth of sensuality and wit that made a fatal seduction of Rome for Molza, scholar and libertine, is reflected as it were in the rich cadences and overwrought adornment of his verse.

Such compositions as these had a powerful influence over the tone of idyllic poetry. I have mentioned only a few out of a considerable list.

The _Driadeo d'amore_ earlier--a mythological medley variously ascribed in different editions to Luca and to Luigi Pulci--and Marino's _Adone_ later, were likewise among the works that went to form the courtly taste to which the pastoral drama appealed. The detailed criticism, however, of such compositions lies beyond the scope of this work.

VI

We must now return to an earlier period in order to follow the development of the pastoral romance. When dealing with _Daphnis and Chloe_ I pointed out that the Greek work could claim no part in the formation of the later prose pastoral. Between it and the work of Boccaccio and Sannazzaro there exists no such continuity of tradition as between the bucolics of the cla.s.sical Mantuan and those of his renaissance follower. The Italian pastoral romance, in spite of its almost pedantic endeavour after cla.s.sical and mythological colouring, was as essentially a product of its age as the pastoral drama itself. So far as any influence on the evolution of the subsequent Arcadia was concerned, Longus might as well never have written of the pastures of Lesbos. Indeed, were we here concerned in a.s.signing to its historical source each particular trait in individual works, rather than in tracing the general development of an idea, it would be casier to distinguish a faint and slightly cynical reminiscence of _Daphnis and Chloe _ in the _Aminta_ and _Pastor fido_ than in the _Ameto_ or the _Arcadia_.

In his pastoral romance, 'Ameto, ovvero Commedia delie ninfe fiorentine,'

Boccaccio set a fas.h.i.+on in literature, namely the intermingling for purposes of narration of prose and verse[49], in which he was followed a century and a half later by Pietro Bembo, the Socrates of Castiglione's renaissance Symposium, in his dialogue on love ent.i.tled _Gli Asolani_, and by Jacopo Sannazzaro in his still more famous _Arcadia_. The _Ameto_ is one of Boccaccio's early compositions, written about 1341, after his return from Naples, but before he had gained his later mastery of language. It is not unfairly characterized by Symonds as 'a tissue of pastoral tales, descriptions, and versified interludes, prolix in style and affected with pedantic erudition.' It is, however, possible to underrate its merits, and it would be easy to overlook its historical importance. Ameto is a rude hunter of the neighbourhood of Florence. One day, while in the woods, he discovers a company of nymphs resting by a stream, and overhears the song of the beautiful Lia. His rough nature is touched by the sweetness of the music and he falls in love with the singer. Their meetings are interrupted by the advent of winter, but he finds her again at the feast of Venus, when shepherds, fauns, and nymphs forgather at the temple of the G.o.ddess. In this company Lia proposes that each of the nymphs present, seven in number, shall narrate the story of her love. This they in turn do, each ending with a song of praise to the G.o.ds; and Ameto feels his love burn for each in turn as he listens to their tales. When the last has ended a sudden brightness s.h.i.+nes around and 'there descended with wondrous noise a column of pure flame, even such as by night went before the Israelitish people in the desert places,' Out of the brightness cornes the voice of Venus:

Io son luce del cielo unica e trina, Principio e fine di ciascuna cosa, Del quai men fu, ne fia nulla vicina.

Ameto, though half blinded by the heavenly effulgence, sees a new joy and beauty s.h.i.+ne upon the faces of the nymphs, and understands that the flame-shrouded presence is that, not of the wanton _mater cupidinum_, but of the G.o.ddess of divine fire who comes to reveal to him the mysteries of love. Cleansed of his grosser nature by a baptismal rite, in which each of the nymphs performs some symbolic ceremonial, he feels heavenly love replacing human in his heart, and is able to bear undazzled the radiance of the divine purity. He salutes the G.o.ddess with a song:

O diva luce, quale in tre persone Ed una essenza il ciel governi e 'l mondo Con giusto amore ed eterna ragione, Dando legge alle stelle, ed al ritondo Moto del sole, principe di quelle, Siccome discerniamo in questo fondo[50].

Various interpretations have been suggested for this work, with its preposterous mixture of pagan and Christian motives. This peculiarity, which we have already met with in Boccaccio's eclogues, and in his _Ninfale fiesolano_, was indeed one of the most persistent as it was one of the least admirable characteristics of pastoral composition. Francesco Sansovino, who edited the _Ameto_ in 1545, discovered real personages underlying the characters of the romance. Fiammetta is introduced by name, and her lover Caleone can hardly be other than Boccaccio. More recent commentators are probably right in detecting an allegorical intention. The seven nymphs, according to them, represent the four cardinal and three theological virtues, and their stories are to be interpreted symbolically.

This view derives support from the baptismal ceremony, in which after the public l.u.s.tration one of the nymphs removes the scales from Ameto's eyes, while another, 'breathing between his lips, kindled within him a flame such as he had never felt before.' In these ministrants it is not difficult to recognize the virtues respectively of faith and love. Ameto may be taken as typical of humanity, tamed of its savage nature by love, and through the service of the virtues led to the knowledge of the divine essence. The conception of love as a civilizing and humanizing power already underlay the sensuous stanzas of the _Ninfale fiesolano_, while the later part of the romance was not uninfluenced by recollections of the _Divine Comedy_[51]. It is true that a modern mind will with difficulty be able to reconcile the amorous confessions of the nymphs with the characteristics of the virtues, but in Boccaccio's day the tradition of the _Gesta Romanorum_ was still strong, and the age that mysticized Vergil, and moralized Ovid, was capable of much in the way of allegorical interpretation[52].

The point to which this allegorical interpretation can legitimately be carried need not trouble us here. Having set himself to characterize the virtues, it is moreover likely enough that Boccaccio sought at the same time to connect his figures more or less definitely with actual persons.

It is sufficient for our present purpose if we recognize in the _Ameto_ something of the same triple intention which, not to put too fine a metaphysical point upon the parallel, we meet with in Dante and in the _Faery Queen_. Having fas.h.i.+oned in accordance with these motives the framework of his book, Boccaccio further concerned himself but little with this philosophical intention, and the allegorical setting having served its artistic purpose of linking them together into one connected whole, it was upon the detail of the narratives themselves that the author's attention was concentrated. It is, however, just in this artistic purpose of the setting that one of the chief interests of the _Ameto_ lies; for if in the mingling of verse and prose it is the forerunner of the _Arcadia_, in the linking together of a series of isolated stories it antic.i.p.ates Boccaccio's own _Decameron_.

While there is little that is distinctly bucolic about the _Ameto_, the atmosphere is eminently pastoral in the wider sense. Nymphs and shepherds, foresters and fauns meet at the temple of Venus; the limpid fountains and shady laurels belong essentially to the conventional landscape, whether of Sicily, of Arcadia, or of the hills overlooking the valley of the Arno.

The Italian imagination was not careful to differentiate between field and forest: _favola boschereccia_ was used synonymously with _commedia pastorale_; _drammi dei boschi_ is a term which covers the whole of the pastoral drama. But what really gives the _Ameto_ its importance in the history of pastoral literature is the manner in which, undisturbed by its religions and allegorical machinery, it introduces us to a purely sensual and pagan paradise, in which love with all its pains and raptures reigns supreme.

The narratives of the nymphs, and indeed the whole of the prose portions of the work, are composed in a style of surcharged and voluptuous beauty, congested with lengthy periods, and acc.u.mulated superlatives and relative clauses, which, in its endeavour to maintain itself and its subject at the highest possible pitch, only succeeds in being intensely and almost uniformly monotonous and dull. It is perfectly true that the work possesses some at least of the qualities of its defects. There are pa.s.sages which argue a feeling for beauty, none the less real for being of a somewhat conventional order, while we not seldom detect a certain rich luxuriance about the descriptions; but it must be admitted that on the whole the style exhibits most of Boccaccio's faults and few of his merits.

The verse interspersed throughout is in _terza rima_, and offers small attraction to the ordinary reader: 'meschinissima cosa' is a verdict which, if somewhat severe, will probably find few to contradict it.

In a certain pa.s.sage, speaking of Poliziano's _Orfeo_, Symonds remarks that 'while Arcady became the local dreamland of the new ideal, Orpheus took the place of its hero.' Without inquiring too closely how far the writers of the renaissance actually connected the hero of music, as a power of civilization, with their newly discovered country, it is interesting to note that the earliest work in the Italian language containing in however amoebean a state the pastoral ideal opens with an allusion to Orpheus.

Quella vertu, che gia l'ardito Orfeo Mosse a cercar le case di Plutone, Allor che forse lieta gli rendeo La cercata Euridice a condizione, E dal suon vinto dell' arguto legno, E dalla nota della sua canzone, Per forza tira il mio debile ingegno A cantar le tue Iode, o Citerea, Insieme con le forze del tuo regno[53].

Orpheus, however, does not stand alone. Venus, Phoebus, Mars, Cupid, and finally Jove, are each in turn invoked, to say nothing of the incidental mention of Aeneas, Mirra, and Europa. This love of mythology in and out of season is one of the most prominent features of the work. One of the nymphs describes her youth in the following words:

il padre mio .... visse eccellentissimo ne' beni pubblici tra' reggenti, e de' beni degli iddii copioso: me a lui donata da loro, nomin Mopsa, e vedentemi nella giovanetta eta mostrante gia bella forma, ai servigi dispose di Pallade, la quale me benivola ricevente nelle sante grotte del cavallo Gorgoneo, tra le sapientissime Muse commise, la dov' io gustai l'acque Castalie, e l'altezza di Cirra tentante, le stelle cercai con ferma mano; e i pallidi visi, quelli luoghi colenti, sempre con riverenza seguii; e molte volte sonando Apollo la cetera sua, lui nel mezzo delle nove Muse ascoltai[54].

She continues for pages in the same strain with ill.u.s.trative allusions to Caius Julius, Claudius, and Britannicus.

At the risk of devoting to the _Ameto_ an altogether disproportionate amount of the s.p.a.ce at my disposai I must before pa.s.sing on attempt to give some notion of the kind of narrative contained in the romance, all the more so as it is little known except to students. With this object I have translated a characteristic pa.s.sage from the tale of Agape[55].

I came from my home nigh unto the temple, before whose altars, with due devotion, I began thus to pray: 'O Venus, full of pity, sacred G.o.ddess whose altars I am joyful to approach, lend thou thy merciful ears unto my prayer; for I come to thee a young girl, though fairly fas.h.i.+oned yet ill-starred in love, fearful lest my empty years lead comfortless to a chill old age; therefore, if my beauty merit that I be counted among thy followers, enter thou into my breast who so desire thee, and grant that in the love of a youth not unworthy of my beauty, and through whom my wasted hours may be with delight made good, I may feel those fires of thine which many times and endlessly I have heard praised.' I know not whether while I was thus engrossed in prayer I fell on sleep, and sleeping saw those things whereof I am about to tell, or whether, indeed, I was rapt thence in bodily form to see them; all I can tell is that suddenly I found myself borne through the heavens in a gleaming chariot drawn by white doves, and that inclining my eyes to things below I beheld the fruitful earth shrunk to a narrow room, and the rivers thereof after the fas.h.i.+on of serpents; and after that I had left behind the pleasant lands of Italy and the rugged mountains of Emathia, I beheld the waters of the Dircean fount and the ancient walls raised by the sound of Amphion's lyre, and soon there appeared to me the pleasant Cytherean mount, and on it resting the holy chariots drawn by the spotless birds. Whereon having alighted I went straying, alike uncertain of the way and of the fortune that might await me, when, as to Aeneas upon the Afric sh.o.r.e, so to me there amid the myrtles there appeared the G.o.ddess I had invoked, and I was filled with wonder such as I had never known before. She was disrobed except for the thinnest purple veil, which hid but little of her form, falling in double curve with many artful foldings over her left side; her face shone even as the sun, and her head was adorned with great length of golden hair rippling down over white shoulders; her eyes flashed with light never seen till then. Why should I labour to tell the loveliness of her mouth and of her snowy neck, of her marble breast and of her every part, since to do so lies so far beyond my powers, and even where I able, hardly should my words gain credence? But whereas she was now at hand I bowed my knees before her G.o.dhead, and with such voice as I could command, repeated my pet.i.tion in her presence. She listened thereto, and approaching bade me rise, saying, 'Follow me; thy prayer is heard, thy desire granted,' and thereupon withdrew me to a somewhat loftier spot. There hidden amidst the dense foliage she discovered to me her only son, upon whom gazing in admiration, I found his beauty such that in all things did he appear fas.h.i.+oned like unto her, except in so far as being he a G.o.d and she a G.o.ddess. O how oft, remembering Psyche, I counted her happy and unhappy; happy in the possession of such a husband, unhappy in his loss, most happy in receiving him again from Jove. But even as I gazed, he, beating the air with his sacred wings that gleamed with clearest gold, departed with his load of newly fas.h.i.+oned arrows from those parts, and at the bidding of the G.o.ddess I turned to the spring wherein he used to temper his golden darts fresh forged with fiercest fire. Its silver waters, gus.h.i.+ng of themselves from the earth and shaded along the margin by a growth of myrtle and dogwood, were neither violated in their purity by the approach of bird or beast, nor suffered aught from the sun's distemperature, and as I leaned forward to catch the reflection of my own figure I could discern the clear bottom free from every trace of mud[56]. The G.o.ddess, for that the hour was already hot, had doffed her transparent veil and plunged her into the cool water, and now commanded me that having stripped I too should enter the spring. We were yet disporting ourselves in the lovely fountain, when, raising my head and gazing with longing eyes around, I saw amid the leaves a youth, pale and shy of appearance, who with slow steps was advancing towards the sacred water. As I looked on him he was pleasant in my eyes, but that he should behold me naked filled me with shame, and I turned away to hide my unwonted blushes. And in like manner at the sight of me he too changed colour and was troubled; he stayed his steps and advanced no further.

Then at the pleasure of the G.o.ddess leaving the water we resumed our apparel, and crowned with myrtle sought a neighbouring glade, full of finest gra.s.s and diapered with many flowers, where in the freshness we stretched our limbs to rest. Thereupon the G.o.ddess, having called the youth to us, began to speak in these words: 'Agape, most dear to me, this youth, Apyros by name, whom thou seest thus shy amid our glades, shall satisfy thy longing; but see that with care thou preserve inviolate our fires, which in thy heart thou shalt bear with thee hence.' I was about to make answer when my tender breast was of a sudden pierced by the flying arrow loosed by the strong hand of the son of her who added these unto her former words: 'We give him thee as thy first and only servant; he lacks nought but our fires, which, kindled even now by thee in him, be it thy care to nourish, that the frost that bound him like to Aglauros being driven from his heart, he may burn with the divine fire no less than father Jove himself.' She ceased; and I, trembling yet with fear, no sooner opened my lips to a.s.sent to her command, than I found myself once more in prayer before her altars; whereat marvelling not a little, and casting my eyes around in search of Apyros, I became aware of the golden arrow in my breast, and near me the pale youth, his intent gaze fixed upon me, and like me wounded by the G.o.d; and so seeing him inflamed with a pa.s.sion no other than that which burned in me, I laughed, and filled with contentment and desire, made sign to him to be of hopeful cheer.

The advance in style that marks the transition from the _Ameto_ to the _Arcadia_ must be largely accredited to Boccaccio himself. The language of the _Decameron_ became the model of _cinquecento_ prose. Sannazzaro, however, wrote in evident imitation not of the structural method only, but of the actual style of the _Ameto_. Something, it is true, he added beyond the greater mastery of literary form due to training. Even in his most luxuriant descriptions and most sensuous images we find that grace and clearness of vision which characterize the early poetry of the Renaissance proper, and combine in literature the luminous purity of Botticelli and the gem-like detail of Pinturicchio. The mythological affectation of the elder work appears in the younger modified, refined, subordinated; there is the same delight in detailed description, but relieved by greater variety of imagination; while, even in the most laboured pa.s.sages, there is a poetical feeling as well as a more subjective manner, which, combined with a remarkable power of visualization, saves them from the danger of the catalogue. Again, there is everywhere visible the same artificiality of style which characterizes the _Ameto_, but purged of its more extravagant elements and less affected and conceited than it became in the works of Lyly and Sidney. Like the _Ameto_, lastly, but unlike its Spanish and English successors, the _Arcadia_ is purely pastoral, free from any chivalric admixture.

The narrative interest in the _Arcadia_ is of the slightest. It opens with a description of the 'dilettevole piano, di ampiezza non molto spazioso,'

lying at the summit of Parthenium, 'non umile monte della pastorale Arcadia,' which was henceforth to be the abode sacred to the shepherd-folk. There, as in Vergil's Italy and in Browne's Devon, in Chaucer's dreamland, and in the realm of the Faery Queen, 'son forse dodici o quindici alberi di tanto strana ed eccessiva bellezza, che chiunque li vedesse, giudicherebbe che la maestra natura vi si fosse con sommo diletto studiata in formarli.'[57] The shepherds, who are a.s.sembled with their flocks, are about to seek their homes at the approach of night, when they meet Montano playing upon his pipe, and a musical contest ensues between him and Uranio. Next day is celebrated the feast of Pales, an account of which is given at length, and is followed by a song in which Galicio sings the praises of his mistress Amaranta, of whom the narrator proceeds to give a minute description. After another singing-match between Logisto and Elpino the company betake themselves to the tomb of Androgeo, whose praises are set forth in prose and rime. There follows a song by the old shepherd Opico, on the superiority of the 'former age'; after which Carino asks the narrator, Sincero--the pseudonym under which Sannazzaro travelled in the realm of shepherds--to recount his history, which he does at length, ending with a lament in _sestina_ form. By way of consoling him in his exile Carino, in return, tells the tale of his own amorous adventures. Next the reverend Opico is induced to discourse of the powers of magic as the shepherds proceed to the sacred grove of Pan, who shares with Pales the honours of Arcadian wors.h.i.+p, and to the games held at the tomb of sibyllic Ma.s.silia--a name under which Sannazzaro is said to have commemorated his own mother. At this point the narrator is troubled by a dream portending death to the lady of his love. As, tormented by this thought, he wanders lonely in the chill dawn he meets a nymph, who leads him through a marvellous cavern into the depths of the earth, where he beholds the springs of many famous rivers, and finally, following the course of the Sabeto, arrives at his native city of Naples, where he learns the truth of his sorrowful forebodings.

The form has been systematized since Boccaccio wrote, the whole being divided into twelve _Prose_, alternating with as many _Ecloghe_, preceded by a _Proemio_ and followed by an address _Alla sampogna_, both in prose.

The verse is mediocre, and several of the eclogues are composed in the unattractive _sestina_ form, while others affect the wearisome _rime sdrucciole_.[58] The most pleasing is Ergasto's lament at Androgeo's tomb, beginning:

Alma beata e bella, Che da' legami sciolta Nuda salisti ne' superni chiostri, Ove con la tua stella Ti G.o.di insieme accolta; E lieta ivi schernendo i pensier' nostri, Quasi un bel sol ti mostri Tra li piu chiari spirti; E coi vestigi santi Calchi le stelle erranti; E tra pure fontane e sacri mirti Pasci celesti greggi; E i tuoi cari pastori indi correggi. (_Ecloga_ V.)

One would hardly turn to the artificiality of the _Arcadia_ for representations of nature, and yet there is in the romance a genuine love of the woods and the fields, and of the rustic sports of the season.

'Sogliono il piu delle volte gli alti e spaziosi alberi negli orridi monti dalla natura prodotti, piu che le coltivate piante, da dotte mani espurgate negli adorni giardini, a' riguardanti aggradare,' remarks Sannazzaro at the outset. Elsewhere he furnishes us with an entertaining description of the various ways in which birds may be trapped, introduced possibly in pursuance of a hint from Longus.[59] Yet, in spite of his professed love of savage scenery and his knowledge of pastoral sports, it is after all in a very artificial and straitened form that nature filters to us through Sannazzaro's pages. Rather do we turn to them for the sake of the paintings on the temple walls, of Amaranta's lips, 'fresh as the morning rose,' of her wild lapful of flowers, and of a hundred other incidental pictures, one of the most charming of which, interesting on another score also, I make no apology for here transcribing.