The Romance of Biography Volume II Part 5

Vittoria, from her childish years, displayed the most extraordinary talents, combined with all the personal charms and sweet proprieties more characteristic of her s.e.x. When not more than fifteen or sixteen, she was already distinguished among her countrywomen, and sought even by sovereign princes. The Duke of Savoy and the Duke of Braganza made overtures to obtain her hand; the Pope himself interfered in behalf of one of these princes; but both were rejected. Vittoria, accustomed to consider herself as the destined bride of young d'Avalo, cultivated for him alone those talents and graces which others admired and coveted, and resolved to wait till her youthful lover was old enough to demand the ratification of their infant vows. She says of herself,

Appena avean gli spirti intera vita, Quando il mio cor proscrisse ogn' altro oggetto.

Pescara had not the studious habits or literary talents of his betrothed bride; but his beauty of person, his martial accomplishments, and his brave and n.o.ble nature, were precisely calculated to impress her poetical imagination, as contrasted with her own gentler and more contemplative character. He loved her too with the most enthusiastic adoration; he even prevailed on their mutual parents to antic.i.p.ate the period fixed for their nuptials; and at the age of seventeen they were solemnly united.

The first four years after their marriage were chiefly spent in a delightful retreat in the island of Ischia, where Pescara had a palace and domain. Here, far from the world, and devoted to each other, and to the most elegant pursuits, they seem to have revelled in such bliss as poets fancy and romancers feign. Hence the frequent allusions to the island of Ischia, in Vittoria's later poems, as a spot beloved by her husband, and the scene of their youthful happiness. One thing alone was wanting to complete this happiness: Heaven denied them children. She laments this disappointment in the 22d Sonnet, where she says, that "since she may not be the mother of sons, who shall inherit their father's glory, yet she will at least, by uniting her name with his in verse, become the mother of his ill.u.s.trious deeds and lofty fame."

Pescara, whose active and martial genius led him to take a conspicuous part in the wars which then agitated Italy, at length quitted his wife to join the army of the Emperor. Vittoria, with tears, resigned him to his duties. On his departure she presented him with many tokens of love, and among the rest, with a banner, and a dressing-gown richly embroidered; on the latter she had worked with her own hand, in silken characters, the motto, "Nunquam minus otiosus quam c.u.m otiosus erat."[29] She also presented him with some branches of palm, "In segno di felice augurio;" but her bright antic.i.p.ations were at first cruelly disappointed. Pescara, then in his twenty-second year, commanded as general of cavalry at the battle of Ravenna, where he was taken prisoner, and detained at Milan. While in confinement, he amused his solitude by showing his Vittoria that he had not forgotten their mutual studies and early happiness at Ischia. He composed an essay or dialogue on Love, which he addressed to her; and which, we are told, was remarkable for its eloquence and spirit as a composition, as well as for the most high-toned delicacy of sentiment. He was not liberated till the following year.

Vittoria had taken for her _devise_, such was the fashion of the day, a little Cupid within a circle formed by a serpent, with the motto, "Quem peperit virtus prudentia servet amorem,"--"The love which virtue inspired, discretion shall guard;" and during her husband's absence, she lived in retirement, princ.i.p.ally in her loved retreat in the island of Ischia, devoting her time to literature, and to the composition of those beautiful Sonnets in which she celebrated the exploits and virtues of her husband. He, whenever his military or political duties allowed of a short absence from the theatre of war, flew to rejoin her; and these short and delicious meetings, and the continual dangers to which he was exposed, seem to have kept alive, through many long years, all the romance and fervour of their early love. In the 79th Sonnet, Vittoria so beautifully alludes to one of these meetings, that I am tempted to extract it, in preference to others better known, and by many esteemed superior as compositions.

Qui fece il mio bel sol a noi ritorno, Di Regie spoglie carco, e ricche prede: Ahi! con quanto dolor, l'occhio rivede Quei lochi, ov' ei mi fea gi il giorno!

Di mille glorie allor cinto d' intorno, E d'onor vero, alla pi altiera sede Facean delle opre udite intera fede L'ardito volto, il parlar saggio adorno.

Vinto da prieghi miei, poi mi mostrava Le belle cicatrici, e 'l tempo, e 'l modo Delle vittorie sue tante, e si chiare.

Quanta pena or mi da, gioja mi dava; E in questo, e in quel pensier, piangendo G.o.de Tra poche dolci, e a.s.sai lagrime amare.

This description of her husband returning, loaded with spoils and honours;--of her fond admiration, mingled with a feminine awe, of his warlike demeanor;--of his yielding, half reluctant, to her tender entreaties, and showing her the wounds he had received in battle;--then the bitter thoughts of his danger and absence, mingling with, and interrupting these delicious recollections of happiness,--are all as true to feeling as they are beautiful in poetry.

After a short career of glory, Pescara was at length appointed commander-in-chief of the Imperial armies, and gained the memorable battle of Pavia. Feared by his enemies, and adored by his soldiers, his power was at this time so great, that many attempts were made to shake his fidelity to the Emperor. Even the kingdom of Naples was offered to him if he would detach himself from the party of Charles the Fifth.

Pescara was not without ambition, though without "the ill that should attend it." He wavered--he consulted his wife;--he expressed his wish to place her on a throne she was so fitted to adorn. That admirable and high-minded woman wrote to confirm him in the path of honour, and besought him not to sell his faith and truth, and his loyalty to the cause in which he had embarked, for a kingdom. "For me," she said, "believe that I do not desire to be the wife of a King; I am more proud to be the wife of that great captain, who in war, by his valour, and in peace, by his magnanimity, has vanquished the greatest monarchs."[30]

On receiving this letter, Pescara hastened to shake off the subtle tempters round him; but he had previously become so far entangled, that he did not escape without some impeachment of his before stainless honour. The bitter consciousness of this, and the effects of some desperate wounds he had received at the battle of Pavia, which broke out afresh, put a period to his life at Milan, in his thirty-fifth year.[31]

The Marchesana was at Naples when the news of his danger arrived. She immediately set out to join him; but was met at Viterbo by a courier, bearing the tidings of his death. On hearing this intelligence, she fainted away; and being brought a little to herself, sank into a stupor of grief, which alarmed her attendants for her reason or her life.

Seasonable tears at length came to her relief; but her sorrow, for a long, long time, admitted no alleviation. She retired, after her first overwhelming anguish had subsided, to her favourite residence in the isle of Ischia, where she spent, almost uninterruptedly, the first seven years of her widowhood.

Being only in her thirty-fifth year, in the prime of her life and beauty, and splendidly dowered, it was supposed that she would marry again, and many of the Princes of Italy sought her hand; her brothers urged it; but she replied to their entreaties and remonstrances, with a mixture of dignity and tenderness, that "Though her n.o.ble husband might be by others reputed dead, he still lived to her, and to her heart."[32]

And in one of her poems, she alludes to these attempts to shake her constancy. "I will preserve," she says, "the t.i.tle of a faithful wife to my beloved,--a t.i.tle dear to me beyond every other: and on this island-rock,[33] once so dear to _him_, will I wait patiently, till time brings the end of all my griefs, as once of all my joys."

D'arder sempre piangendo non mi doglio!

Forse avr di fedele il t.i.tol vero, Caro a me sopra ogn' altro eterno onore.

Non cambier la f,--ne questo scoglio Ch' al _mio_ sol piacque, ove finire spero Come le dolci gi, quest' amare ore![34]

This Sonnet was written in the seventh year of her widowhood. She says elsewhere, that her heart having once been so n.o.bly bestowed, disdains a meaner chain; and that her love had not ceased with the death of its object.--

Di cosi n.o.bil fiamma amore mi cinse, Ch' essendo spenta, in me viva l' ardore.

There is another, addressed to the poet Molza, in which she alludes to the fate of his parents, who, by a singular providence, both expired in the same day and hour: such a fate appeared to her worthy of envy; and she laments very tenderly that Heaven had doomed her to survive him with whom her heart lay buried. There are others addressed to Cardinal Bembo, in which she thus excuses herself for making Pescara the subject of her verse.

Scrivo sol per sfogar l' interna doglia; La pura fe, l' ardor, l' intensa pena Mi scusa appo ciascun; che 'l grave pianto E tal, che tempo, ne raggion l' affrena.

There is also a Canzone by Vittoria, full of poetry and feeling, in which she alludes to the loss of that beauty which once she was proud to possess, because it was dear in her husband's sight. "Look down upon me," she exclaims, "from thy seat of glory! look down upon me with those eyes that ever turned with tenderness on mine! Behold, how misery has changed me; how all that once was beauty is fled!--and yet I am--I am the same!"--(Io son--io son ben dessa!)--But no translation--none at least that I could execute--would do justice to the deep pathos, the feminine feeling, and the eloquent simplicity of this beautiful and celebrated poem. The reader will find it in Mathias's collection.[35]

After the lapse of several years, her mind, elevated by the very nature of her grief, took a strong devotional turn: and from this time, we find her poetry entirely consecrated to sacred subjects.

The first of these _Rime spirituali_ is exquisitely beautiful. She allows that the anguish she had felt on the death of her n.o.ble husband, was not alleviated, but rather nourished and kept alive in all its first poignancy, by constantly dwelling on the theme of his virtues and her own regrets; that the thirst of fame, and the possession of glory, could not cure the pining sickness of her heart; and that she now turned to Heaven as a last and best resource against sorrow.[36]

Poich 'l mio casto amor, gran tempo tenne L' alma di fama accesa, ed ella un angue In sen nudrio, per cui dolente or langue,-- Volta al Signor, onde il remedio venne.

Chiamar qui non convien Parna.s.so o Delo; Ch' ad altra acqua s' aspira, ad altro monte Si poggia, u' piede uman per se non sale.

Not the least of Vittoria's t.i.tles to fame, was the intense adoration with which she inspired Michel Angelo. Condivi says he was enamoured of her divine talents. "In particolare egli am grandemente la Marchesana di Pescara, del cui divino spirito era inamorato:" and he makes use of a strong expression to describe the admiration and friendship she felt for him in return. She was fifteen years younger than Michel Angelo, who not only employed his pencil and his chisel for her pleasure, or at her suggestion, but has left among his poems several which are addressed to her, and which breathe that deep and fervent, yet pure and reverential love she was as worthy to inspire as he was to feel.

I cannot refuse myself the pleasure of adding here one of the Sonnets, addressed by Michel Angelo to the Marchesana of Pescara, as translated by Wordsworth, in a peal of grand harmony, almost as _literally_ faithful to the expression as to the spirit of the original.

SONNET.

Yes! hope may with my strong desire keep pace, And I be undeluded, unbetrayed; For if of our affections none find grace In sight of Heaven, then, wherefore had G.o.d made The world which we inhabit? Better plea Love cannot have, than that in loving thee Glory to that eternal peace is paid, Who such divinity to thee imparts As hallows and makes pure all gentle hearts.

His hope is treacherous only whose love dies With beauty, which is varying every hour: But, in chaste hearts, uninfluenced by the power Of outward change, there blooms a deathless flower, That breathes on earth the air of Paradise.

He stood by her in her last moments; and when her lofty and gentle spirit had forsaken its fair tenement, he raised her hand and kissed it with a sacred respect. He afterwards expressed to an intimate friend his regret, that being oppressed by the awful feelings of that moment, he had not, for the first and last time, pressed his lips to hers.

Vittoria had another pa.s.sionate admirer in Galeazzo di Tarsia, Count of Belmonte in Calabria, and an excellent poet of that time.[37] His attachment was as poetical, but apparently not quite so Platonic, as that of Michel Angelo. His beautiful Canzone beginning,

A qual pietra sommiglia La mia bella Colonna,

contains lines rather more impa.s.sioned than the modest and grave Vittoria could have approved: for example--

Con lei foss' io da che si parte il sole, E non ci vedesse altri che le stelle, --Solo una notte--e mai non fosse l' Alba!

Marini and Bernardo Ta.s.so were also numbered among her poets and admirers.

Vittoria Colonna died at Rome, in 1547. She was suspected of favouring in secret the reformed doctrines; but I do not know on what authority Roscoe mentions this. Her n.o.ble birth, her admirable beauty, her ill.u.s.trious marriage, her splendid genius, (which made her the worship of genius--and the theme of poets,) have rendered her one of the most remarkable of women;--as her sorrows, her conjugal virtues, her innocence of heart, and elegance of mind, have rendered her one of the most interesting.

Where could she fix on mortal ground Those tender thoughts and high?

Now peace, the woman's heart hath found, And joy, the poet's eye![38]

Antiquity may boast its heroines; but it required virtues of a higher order to be a Vittoria Colonna, or a Lady Russel, than to be a Portia or an Arria. How much more graceful, and even more sublime, is the moral strength, the silent enduring heroism of the Christian, than the stern, impatient defiance of destiny, which showed so imposing in the heathen!

How much more difficult is it sometimes to live than to die!

Pi val d' ogni vittoria un bel soffirire.

Or as Campbell has expressed nearly the same sentiment,

To bear, is to conquer our fate!

FOOTNOTES:

[28] Orlando Furioso, canto 37.

[29] "Never less idle than when idle."