Quante Dirne Si De’ Non Si Può Dire

His praise remains unuttered, for his fire Of glory burneth with o’ervivid flame; The home that wronged him easier to blame, Than toward his humblest merit to aspire. This man for us descended, where God’s ire Subdueth sin, once more toward heaven rose; The gates that his Creator did not close, A cruel city barred to his desire. Ah ruthless mother, nurse of her own woe, In measure as her sons are excellent, Their sorrow making bitterly to flow! Of thousand instances one argument; No man hath lived more shamefully exiled, No age hath known a like, a greater child.

2 [XIV] The sketch, characterized by rude vigor, lacks the truth and harmony essential to a beautiful work; these qualities are to be attained by the final touches of the hammer, or, as we should now say, of the chisel. So it is only the influence of the beloved person which can perfect the incomplete design of Nature, and bestow on the character its final excellence. Of all the sonnets, this is the most celebrated.

Respecting an inferior variant, the younger Buonarroti, in an obscure mention, appears to say that it was contained in a letter of the sculptor written in 1550, which letter made mention of the marchioness of Pescara; and this assertion has led Guasti to refer the sonnet to that date. It is quite clear, however, that the treatment does not belong to the later period, after the death of Vittoria Colonna, in which the productions of Michelangelo had assumed the monotone of a colorless piety. It seems to me more likely that the time of composition is to be set earlier than 1534, and that the conception, ideal in character, had no relation to Vittoria, with whom the sculptor had perhaps not yet become acquainted.

3 [XV] The sculptor, who is designated as the best of artists, on beholding the block of marble at his disposal, obtains the suggestion of a statue; this possible work appears to him as a figure concealed beneath the veil of superincumbent matter, which he proceeds to remove. His success will depend on the clearness of internal vision; if he lack the vivid conception, the result will be an abortive product, which metaphorically may be called a likeness of Death. So if the lover, in place of the “mercy” which he desires to awaken, can create in the heart of his lady only a feeling inconsistent with his wishes, the blame should be laid solely to his own insufficiency. The idea is poetic, not philosophic, and the sonnet a poem of love, belonging to what I have called the earlier manner of the poet. The sonnet has been paraphrased by Emerson:--

Never did sculptor’s dream unfold A form which marble doth not hold In its white block; yet it therein shall find Only the hand secure and bold Which still obeys the mind. So hide in thee, thou heavenly dame, The ill I shun, the good I claim; I, alas! not well alive, Miss the aim whereto I strive. Not love, nor beauty’s pride, Nor fortune, nor thy coldness can I chide, If whilst within thy heart abide Both death and pity, my unequal skill Fails of the life, but draws the death and ill.

In this rendering the fourth line is open to criticism; it is not want of manual skill that is the cause of failure, but the inability to form an adequate idea. Harford modernizes the introductory lines:--

Whate’er conception a great artist fires, Its answering semblance latent lies within A block of marble.

The metaphor is thus reduced to the scholastic platitude, that in all matter lies the potentiality of form. So Varchi understood the lines, and cites Aristotle as authority that the action of an agent is nothing but the extraction of a thing from potency to act; with changes on such intolerable jargon he occupies two pages. The lecture, intended to be flattering, only serves to show with what contemporary crassness the delicate conceptions of Michelangelo were obliged to struggle.

4 [XVII] The contrast between the permanence of the artistic product and the transitoriness of the mortal subject suggests reflections which may take different turns. (See madrigal No. 9 [XIII].) One is reminded of certain sonnets of Shakespeare.

5 [XIX] The lover feels himself enriched by the impression of the beloved, which, like the divine name on the seal of Solomon, confers the power of working miracles. The pretty composition is among the few which may be said to be inspired by a really cheerful and joyous sentiment, and, like the preceding, may be held to belong to the earlier manner of the poet.

6 [XX] This most beautiful sonnet, somewhat immature in its music, is a precious relic of Michelangelo’s early love verse. The poem was written below a letter from his father, received in Bologna, and dated 24 December, 1507. Subscribed is the line: La m’arde e lega et emmi e parmi un zucchero. “She burns me and binds me and eats me, and I think her a sugarplum.” The lines, therefore, have a biographic inspiration, and may be presumed to have been in honor of some young beauty of Bologna. A fragment of a madrigal seems akin.