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d'Este for a residente E

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costume is that of one in attendance or cu but smooth features, cares and sorrows E maladies, have not yet left those furrowe seen nesses of him, and especially upon the postinus served in the monastery of S. Onofrio, from whICE: 106E have been incorrectly modified. But there is a gre in that eye, fixed on vacancy, and unconscious of passing oxy which speaks of cares already cankering at the hear

*At p. 145, 146. above.

VOL. III.

X

07

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scenery around Castel Durante, are generally numbered those of the gardens of Armida. Whatever may have been the true footing on which the poet's devotion was received by the Princess, and whatever the secret cause of her domestic misunderstandings, her husband never showed, on this or any future occasion, jealousy of his early playmate; and in 1574 Tasso returned to Ferrara, laden with compliments and presents from the august circle at Pesaro, including a jewel of price from the Princess, which his necessities afterwards obliged him to dispose of.

Lucrezia had become Duchess of Urbino in 1574, and her separation from the Duke took place three years later, in circumstances of which we have elsewhere spoken.* Released from ties in which affection had never any part, she sought in her brother's palace distractions more suited to her lively temperament, and renewed her intimacy with its silver-tongued laureat. Among the reasons which incline us to believe that this connection was chiefly sought upon her side, is the desire which Tasso about this time manifested of exchanging the protection of the d'Este for a residence at Rome. His intention was not realised, for his visit to the Eternal City did not extend beyond a month, and before the close of 1575 he was at Florence. It was then, in all probability, that he sat for the portrait here engraved, a masterly production of Alessandro Allori, which I had the good fortune to acquire in that city in 1845. His costume is that of one in attendance on courts. On his sharp but smooth features, cares and sorrows, mental and bodily maladies, have not yet left those furrows seen in many likenesses of him, and especially upon the posthumous mask preserved in the monastery of S. Onofrio, from which most of them have been incorrectly modified. But there is a gentle sadness in that eye, fixed on vacancy, and unconscious of passing objects, which speaks of cares already cankering at the heart, and seems

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to dwell upon the darkening shadows of coming misfortune. His age is manhood's prime, yet his pensive expression is tinged by the constitutional melancholy which Dr. Verga has so skilfully analysed, and which was then on the point of powerfully developing itself. From an accident to the drawing, our engraving scarcely does justice to the features, which agree better in this than in his other portraits with the minute description given by his friend Manzo at a more advanced age and with the posthumous mask. Indeed, it is the only likeness I have met with which bears the appearance of having been taken from the life.

On returning to Ferrara in January, 1576, a new tie was created to the reigning family, by his appointment as its historiographer, on the death of Pigna. This was the turning point of his existence, whence the symptoms of mental disease gradually and fatally advanced until June, 1577, when, after that outbreak of insanity in presence of the Duchess of Urbino, to which we have already alluded, he was interdicted by Alfonso from corresponding with her. This command she observed, but Leonora occasionally consoled him by letters during his flight to Naples, of which we have spoken in tracing the progress of his lipemania. It was in the autumn of 1578 that he arrived at Pesaro, after his second flight; and, in this melodious but unfinished canzone, bespoke shelter under the mighty oak [della Rovere] watered by the Metauro:

"TO THE RIVER METAURO.

"O thou illustrious child

* Black, ii. 342. him:

Of mighty Apennine, humble though you lie,

In story brighter than thy silver tide;

O stranger fleet and wild,

To this thy friendly and protecting side,

Well pleased, for safety and repose I fly.

Giovanni Imperiale, in his Museum Historicum, thus describes -"Perpetuo moerentis et altius cogitantis gessit aspectum, gracili menti, facie decolori, conniventibus cavisque oculis ;"- all symptoms already traceable in Allori's picture.

The lofty OAK, with mantling branches wide,
Bathed by thy stream, and from thy cisterns fed,
Shadowing the mountains and the seas between,—
Embower me with its screen!

Inviolate screen, and hospitably spread,
Thy cool recesses undisturbed and sweet
Shroud me in deepest covert, thick entwined,
So hid from blind and cruel fortune; blind,
But not for me, whom still she sees to meet,
Though far by hill or valley I should stray,
Or in the lonely way

Have passed at midnight, and with noiseless feet;
And by this bleeding side well understood,

Her aim unerring, as her shaft is good.

"Since first I breathed this air,

Ah me! since first I met the glorious light,
Which never to these eyes unclouded shone,
I was her fatal care,

Chosen to be her mark and her despite ;
Nor yet those early hurts by time outgrown.
Well to that spirit pure my words are known,
Beside whose sainted tomb my cradle stood.
Might they have laid me in the peaceful ground
When I received the wound!

Me from my mother's bosom fortune rude
Tore while a child: O yet I feel those last
Kisses and burning tears upon my cheek,
With sighs remembered; still I hear that weak
And ardent prayer, caught by the rising blast,
Then parted ever; no more face to face

Folded in strict embrace

And held by close and loving arms so fast,

Ah! but like Ilus or Camilla hied,

With steps unequal, by my father's side.

"In banishment I grew

And rigid want, instructed by our strange
Disastrous flight to shed untimely tears,
Nor childhood's pleasure knew;

But bitterness to me of chance and change
Brought immature the bitterness of years.
Despoiled and bare, his feeble age appears
Before me still. Alas! and is my store
Of griefs become so scanty, that my own
Are not enough to moan?

That others than myself I must deplore?
But seldom, though I bid, will come the sigh,

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