[The text presented here is based on the printed version of folio D in the copy held by the Trivulziana Library in Milan (call number Triv. L594), commonly known as Dt to distinguish it from the so-called “vulgata,” commonly known as Dv, which is presented in this volume as the definitive text. An anastatic reprint of Dt is in Giordano Bruno, Opere italiane: ristampa anastatica delle cinquecentine, II, ed. Eugenio Canone (Florence: Olschki, 1999), 327–466. The same editorial criteria have been used here as in the main text based on the British Library copy of Bruno’s work. The few opening pages of Dialogue III which close folio D are not included, as the differences between the two versions are minimal.]
[non per suo difetto, ma per torto di fortuna] e’ gionto a’ termine tale. Non solo e’ degno di honore quell’uno che há meritato il palio: ma anchor quello, et quel altro, ch’há si ben corso, ch’e’ giudicato ancho degno, et sufficiente del’haver meritato, ben che non l’habbia vinto. et son vituperosi quelli ch’al mezzo de la carriera desperati si fermano, et non vanno (anchor che ultimi) a’ toccar il termine con quella lena, et vigor, che gl’e’ possibile.
Vidi ego lecta diu, et multo spectata labore
Degenerare tamen, ni vis. sic omnia fatis
In peius ruere, ac retrò sublata referri,
Non aliter quã qui adverso vix flumine lembũ
Remigiis subigit: si brachia forté remisit;
Atque illũ in preceps prono rapit alveus amne.
Venca dumque la perserveranza; per che se la fatica e’ tanta; il premio non sarà mediocre. Tutte cose pretiose son poste nel difficile: Stretta et spinosa e’ la via de la beatitudine; Gran cosa forse ne promette il cielo per il che dice il poeta.
Pater ipse colendi
Haud facilem esse viam voluit, primusque per artẽ
Movit agros: curis acuens mortalia corda,
Nec torpore gravi passus sua regna veterno.
PRUDENTIO. Questo e’ un molto emphatico progresso, che converrebe a’ una materia di piu grande importanza.
FRULLA. E’ lecito, et e’ in potestá di principi, de essaltar le cose basse: le quali se essi sarran degne, saran giudicate degne, et veramente saran degne, et in questo gl’atti loro son piu illustri et notabili : che si aggrandissero i’ grandi; i’ quali non e’ cosa che non credeno meritar per la sua grandezza, ò vero che si mãtenessero i’ superiori ne la sua superioritá, i’ quali diranno quello, cõvenirgli nõ per gratia, cortesia, et magnanimítá di principe: ma per giusticia et raggione: Hor applica á proposito del discorso del nostro Theophilo. Pure (Maestro Prudentio) se vi par anchor aspro; distaccalo da questa materia, et attacalo ad un altra.
PRUDENTIO. Io non dissi altro, eccetto che il progresso parea molto emphatico per questa materia, che s’offre al presente.
FRULLA. Volevo io anchor dire che Theophilo par ch’habbia un poco del Prudentio: ma perdonategli, per che (come mi pare) questa vostra infirmita é contagiosa. Et non dubitate, p che Theophilo sá far de necessitá vertu, et de infirmitá cautela, preservatione, et sanitá. Seguite Theophilo il vostro discorso.
PRUDENTIO. Ultra Domine.
SMITHO. Via sú affrettiamoci á fin ch’il tempo non ci vegna meno.
THEOPHILO. Hor alza i’ vanni Theophilo, et ponti in ordine, et sappi ch’al prensente non s’offre occasione di apportar de le piu alte cose del mondi. Nõ hai quá materia di parlar di quel nume de la terra, di quella singolare, et rarissima dama, che da questo freddo cielo, vicino á l’Arctico parallelo, á tutto il terrestre globo rende sí chiaro lume. Elizabetta dico, che per titolo, et dignitá Regia, non é inferiore á qualsivogla Re, che sii nel mõdo. Per il giodicio, saggezza, conseglo, et governo; non é seconda á nessun che porti scettro in terra. Ne la cognitione de le arti, notitia de le scienze, intelligenza et prattica de tutte lingue, che da persone popolari, et dotte possono in Europa udirse; senza contradittione alchuna e’ a’ tutti gl’altri prencipi superiore, et trionfatrice di tal sorte; che se l’imperio de la fortuna corrispondesse, et fusse agguagliato à l’imperio del generosissimo spirto et ingegno: sarebbe l’unica imperatrice di questa terrestre sphera; et con piu piena significatione quella sua divina mano sustentarebbe il globo di questa universale monarchia.
Non hai materia di parlar di quell’animo tanto heroico, che giá vinticinque anni, et piu, col cenno de gl’occhi sui, nel centro dele borasche d’un mare d’adversitá; há fatto trionfar la pace, et la quiete; mantenutasi salda in mezzo di tanto gaglardi flutti, et tumide onde di si varie tempeste; co le quali, á tutta possa gl’há fatto empito questo orgogloso, et pazzo Oceano, che da tutti contorni la circonda.
Non hai quá materia di far discorso di colei, la quale se volessi assomiglar á Regina di memoria di passati tempi: profanareste la dignitá del suo essere singolare et sola; perche di gran lungha avanza tutte: Altre in grandezza de l’authoritá, Altre ne la perseverãza del lungho, intiero, et non anchora abbreviato governo, Tutte poi ne la sobrietá, pudicitia, ingegno, et cognitione. Tutte ne l’hospitalità et cortesia, co la quale accogle ogni sorte di forastiero, che non si rende al tutto incapace di gratia et favore.
Nõ te si offre occasione, di parlar de la gẽerosissima humanitá de l’illustrissimo Monsig. Conte Roberto Dudleo, Conte di Licestra &c. tanto conosciuta dal mondo, nominata insieme con la fama del Regno, et la Regina d’Inghilterra, ne circostãti regni; tanto predicata da í cuori di generosi spirti Italiani quali specialmente da lui con particolar favore (accompagnando quello de la sua signora) son stati, et son sempre accarezzati. Questo insieme co l’eccellentissimo sig. Francesco Walsingame, gran Secretario del Regio conseglo (come quelli che siedono vicini al sole del Regio splendore) con la luce de la lor gran nobiltade son sufficienti a’ spengere, et annullar l’oscurità: et con il caldo de l’amorevol cortisiá disrozzar et purgare qualsivogla rudezza, et rusticitá, che ritrovar si possa non solo trá Brittanni: ma ancho trá Scythi, Arabi, Tartari, Canibali, et Antropòphagi. Non ti viene a’ proposito di referire l’honesta conversatione, civiltá, et buona creanza di molti cavallieri, et molto nobili personaggi Inghilesi, trá quali e’ tanto conosciuto, et a’ noi particolarissimamente, per fama prima, quando eravamo in Milano, et in Francia; et poi per esperienza, hor che siamo ne la sua patria, manifesto, il mólto illustre, et eccellente cavalliero, Sig. Phillippo Sidneo, di cui il tersissimo ingegno (oltre í lodatissimi costumi) e’ si raro, et singolare: che difficilmente trá singolarissimi et rarissimi, tanto fuori quanto dentro Italia ne trovarete un simile.
Tolto ne e’ a’ fatto materia di lode: ma importunissimamente, a’ dispetto del mondo ne viene a’ proposito una plebe, la quale in esser plebe, non e’ inferiore a’ plebe alchuna, che pasca nel suo seno la pur troppo prodiga terra: perche questa veramente dá saggio di plebe de tutte le plebe che io possa haver fin hora conosciute irreverente, irrespettevole, di nulla civiltá, male allevate. Quando vede un forastiero, sembra (per dio) tanti lupi tanti orsi: et con il suo torvo aspetto gli fanno quel viso; che saprebbe far un porco ad un che venesse a’ torgli il tino d’avanti. Questa ignobilissima plebe, per quanto appartiene al proposito, e’ divisa in due parti.
PRUDENTIO. Omnis divisio debet esse bimembris, vel reducibilis ad bimembrem.
THEOPHILO. De quali l’una e’ de arteggiani, et bottegari, i’ quali conoscendoti in qualche foggia forastiero: ti torceno il musso, ti ridono, ti ghignano, ti petteggiano co la bocca, ti chiamano in suo lenguaggio cane, traditore, strangiero, et questo appresso loro e’ un titolo ingiuriosissimo, et che rende il supposito capace ad ricevere tutti í torti del mondo, sii pur quanto sivogla huomo giovane, o’ vecchio, togato, o’ armato, nobile, o’ gentil huomo, al che son mossi dal desio di havaver occasione di far a’ questione con un forastiero, et in questo le assicura che non come in Italia s’avviene ch’un rompa il capo ad un de simil canagla, si staranno tutti ad vedere se per sorte viene qualche zaffo ufficiale ch’il prenda: et se pur e’ alchuno che si muova; lo fa per dividere et appacare, aggiutare, l’impotente, et prendere specialmente la causa d’un forastiero, et niscuno che non e’ ufficial di corte, o’ ministro de la giustitia idest birro, have ardire ne authoritá di por mano sopra il delinquente: et se pur quello non sará potente a’ prenderlo: si vergognará ogn’uno di aggiutarlo in simile ufficio, et cossi il birro, et tal volta i’ birri perdeno la caccia. Ma quá se per mala sorte ti viẽ fatto, che prendi occasione di toccarne uno, o’ porre mano a’ l’armi: ecco in un punto ti vedrai, quanto e’ lunga la strada, in mezzo d’uno esercito di coteconi i’ quali piú di repente che (come fingono i’ poeti) da denti del drago seminati da Iasone risorsero tanti huomini armati: par che sbuchino da la terra: ma certissimamente sorteno da le botteghe, et facendo una honoratissima et gentilissima prospettiva de una selva de bastoni, di pertiche lunghe, alebarde, partesane, et forche rugginenti, le quali per queste et simile occasioni han sẽpere apparecchiate et pronte, bẽche à meglor uso gli siino state concesse dal prẽcipe. Cossí con una rustica furia te le vedrai avventar sopra, senza guardare a’ chi, perche, dove, et come, senza ch’un se ne referisca a’ l’altro, ogn’uno sfogando quel sdegno naturale ch’ha contra il forastiero: ti verrà di sua propriá mano (se non sará impedito da la calca de gl’altri che poneno in effetto simil pensiero) et con la sua propria vergha á prendere la misura del sayo, et se non sarai cauto á saldarti anchora il cappello in testa.
Et se per caso vi fusse presente qualch’huomo da bene, o’ gentil’huomo al quale simil villania dispiaccia: quello anchor che fusse il Conte o’ il Duca, dubitando con suo danno senza tuo profitto d’esserti compagno (per che questi non hanno rispetto á persona, quando si veggono in questa foggia armati) sará forzato à rodersi dentro, et aspettar, stando discosto al fine. Hor al tandem quando pensi che ti sii lecito d’andar á trovar il barbiero, et riposar il stancho, et mal trattato busto: ecco che troverai quelli medesmi esser tanti birri et zaffi, i’ quali se potran fengere che tu habbi tocco alchuno (potreste haver la schena et gambe quantosivogla rotte) come havessi gli talari di Mercurio, o’ fussi montato sopra il cavallo Pegaseo, o’ premessi la schena al destrier di Perseo, o’ cavalcassi l’Ipogriffo d’Astolfo, o’ ti menasse il dromedario de Madian, o’ ti trottasse sotto una de le ciraffe de gli tre Magi: á forza di bussate ti faran correre, aggiutandoti ad andar avanti con que fieri pugni: che meglo sarrebe per te fussero tanti calci di bue, d’asino, o’ di mulo: non ti lasciaranno mai, sin tanto che non t’habbiano ficcato dentro una priggione, et quá me tibi comendo.
PRUDENTIO. A fulgure et tempestate, ab ira, et indignatione, malitia, tentatione, et furia rusticorũ.
FRULLA. Libera nos domine.
THEOPHILO. Oltre á questi s’aggionge l’ordine di servitori: non parlo de quelli de la prima cotta i’ quali son gentil’huomini de baroni, et per ordinario non portano impresa o’ marca se non o’ per troppo ambitione de gl’uni, o’ per soverchia adulation de gl’altri, trá questi se ritrova civiltá.
PRUDENTIO. Omnis regula exceptionem patitur.
THEOPHILO. Ma parlo de le altre specie di servitori, de quali Altri sono de la seconda cotta: et questi tutti portano la marca affibbiata á dosso. Altri sono de la terza cotta, li padroni de quali non son tanto grandi che li convengna dar marca à servitori: o’ pur essi son stimati indegni, et incapaci di portarla. Altri sono de la quarta cotta, et questi siegueno gli marcati, et non marcati; et son servi de servi.
PRUDENTIO. Servus servorum, non est malus titulus usquequaque.
THEOPHILO. Quelli de la prima cotta son i’ poveri et bisognosi gentil’huomini: li quali per dissegno di robba, o’ di favore, se riducono sotto l’ali di maggiori; et questi per il piu non son tolti da sua casa et senza indignitá seguitano i’ sui Milordi, son stimati et favriti da quelli. Quelli de la seconda cotta sono de mercantuzzi falliti, o’ arteggiani, o’ quelli che senza profitto han studiato a’ leggere o’ qualch’arte et questi son tolti, o’ fuggitie da qualche schuola, fundaco o’ bottega. Quelli de la terza cotta son que poltroni che per fuggir maggior fatica, han lasciato piú libero mestiero; et questi o’ son poltroni acquatici, tolti da battelli; o’ son poltroni terrestri, tolti da gl’aratri. Gl’ultimi de la quarta cotta sono una mescugla e di desperati, di disgratiati da lor padroni, de fuor usciti da tempeste, de pelegrini, de disutili et inerti, di que che non han piú comoditá di rubbare, di qué che frescamente son scampati di priggione, di quelli che han disegno d’ingannar qualchuno che le viene a’ torre da lá. Et questi son tolti da le colonne de la borsa, et da la porta di san Paolo. De simili se ne vuoi a’ Parigi ne trovarai quanti ne vuoi a la porta del palazzo. In Napoli a’ le grade di san Paolo, in Venetia, a’ Rialto.
De le tre ultime specie, sono quei che per mostrar quanto siino potenti in casa sua, et che sono persone di buon stomacho, son buoni soldati, et hãno a’ dispreggio il mondo tutto: ad uno che non fá mina di volergli dar la piazza largha: gli donaranno co la spalla, come con un sprone di galera una spinta, che lo faran voltar tutto ritondo, facendogli veder quanto sijno forti robusti et possenti, et ad un bisogno buoni per rompere un’armata. Et se costui che se fará incontro, sarà un forastiero; donigli pur quanto si vogla di piazza, che vuole per ogni modo che sappia, quanto san far il Cæsare, l’Anniballe, l’Hettorre, et un bue che urta anchora. Non fanno solamente come l’asino il quale (massimamente quando e’ carco) si contenta del suo diritto camino per il filo, d’onde se tu non ti muovi non si muoverá ancho lui, et converrá che o’ tu a’ esso, o’ esso a’ te doni la scossa: ma fanno cossí questi che portan l’acqua, che se tu non stai in cervello, ti farran sentir la punta di quel naso di ferro che stá a la boccá de la giarra. Cossi fanno anchora color che portan birra et hala, i’ quali facendo il corso suo, se per tua inavertẽza te si avventaranno sopra, te faran sentir l’empito de la carca che portan sopra; et che non solamente son possent a’ portar su le spalli; ma anchora a’ buttar una cosa innante, et tirar se fusse un carro anchora. Questi particolari per l’authoritá che tegnono in quel caso che portano la soma, son degni d’escusatione, per che hanno piu del cavallo, mulo, et asino, che de l’huomo: ma accuso tutti gl’altri li quali hanno un pochettino del rationale, et sono piu che questi altri ad imagine et similitudine de l’huomo; et in luoco di donarte il buon giorno, o’ buona sera (dopo haverti fatto un gratioso volto, come ti conoscessero, et ti volessero salutare) ti verranno a’ donar una scossa bestiale. Accuso (dico) quell’altri i’ quali tal volta fingendo di fuggire, o’ voler perseguitare alchuno, o’ correre a’ qualche negocio necessario; se spiccano da dentro una bottega, et con quella furia ti verranno da dietro o’ da costa, à donar quella spinta che puó donar un toro quando e’ stizzato, come (pochi mesi fa) accade ad un povero gentil’huomo Italiano, al quale in cotal modo, con riso et piacer di tutta la piazza, fú rotta, et fracassata una gamba, al che volendo poi provedere il magistrato: non si trovò manco che tal cosa havesse possuto accadere in quella piazza. Si che quando ti piace uscir di casa: guarda prima di farlo senza urgente occasione, che non pensassi come di voler andar per la citta á spasso, poi segnati col segno de la santa croce, armati di una corrazza di patienza che possa star á prova di archibugio, et disponeti sempre á comportar il manco male liberamente; se non vuoi comportar il peggio per forza.
Portati prudentemente, et pensa che nõ hai à far mai con un solo, ne con doi o’ cinquanta; ma cõ tutta la republica, et la patria plebesca, per la quale ó á dritto ò à torto ogn’uno e’ ubligato di ponere fin á la vita. Peró fratello quando ti sentirai toccare in questo modo; poni mano al tuo cappello, saluta il tuo antagonista, et fà conto che quello habbia fatto come si suol fare trá compagni, et amici. ó pure se la ti parrá troppo dura: dimãdagli perdono a fin che non ritorni à farti peggio: con provocarti, figendo che tu l’hai spẽto, o’ l’hai voluto spẽgere.
Hor ecco quel tempo, quell occasione, ne la quale meglo che mai le potrai conoscere. Dice il Nolano che in diece mesi ch’há soggiornato in Inghilterra: non há profittato quanto questa una sera in far penitẽze et guadagnar perdoni. Questa sera gli fú bene accomodata ad esser principio, mezzo, et fine de la quarantana. Questa sera (disse) voglo che vagla per la penitẽza ch’harrei fatta digiunando quaranta giorni, benedetti et quaranta notte anchora. Questa sera son stato nel deserto; dove non per una, o’ tre, ma per quarãta tentationi hó guadagnato quarantamilia anni d’indulgentia plenaria.
PRUDENTIO. Per modum suffraggii.
THEOPHILO. Tanto che per buona fede, credo haverne non solo per i’ peccati ch’hò fatti: ma ancho per molti altri che oltre potrei fare.
FRULLA. Vorrei sapere se egli numeró questi rintuzzi, et urti salvaticini che dici esserno stati quaranta? Mi fate venir á memoria mastro Mamphurio, al quale certi marranchini ne ferno contare non so quante.
THEOPHILO. Se costui havesse saputo, che ne dovea portar tanti; forse sarebbe stato curioso in contarle: ma lui sempre stimava che ogn’uno dovesse essere l’ultimo; ma era ben ultimo á rispetto de quelli ch’erano passati. In questo che lui dice esserno stati gl’urti, quaranta, forse fá com’un devoto peccatore; il quale dovendo rispondere al padre confessore del quoties, cioé quante volte: et non se ricordando a’ punto il numerò: se teneva á l’alto piu tosto che al basso; dubitando che per dir meno piu presto che d’avantaggio; qualche peccato ne rimanesse di fuori, in loco che piu tosto alchuno vi harrebbe rimaner dentro la mano del prete che l’assolve. Et lascio che nel ricevere di queste spinte, urti, et ferute, non si prende quel piacere, che l’huomo puó havere in racõtarle; perche in corpo nõ si senteno senza dolore ò cordoglo: et da la bocca escono cõ quella medesima facilita le due, che le dodici, che le quarãta, che le cẽto, che le mille. Ma siino quãte si voglano; io non hó possute cótar le sue ma ben le mie. Egli si teneva á dietro come soglõ far quei ch’al mal passo honorano il cãpagno, ma lui s’ingannava: per che le battarie nõ meno occorrevano dal le spalli per quei che ne seguinano, che da la fronte per quei che ne venevano á l’incontro, non dimeno lui per manco male faceva com’un priore che seguita il suo cõvento, ó pur come si fa in forma quãdo si vá á cõbattere (ove al presẽte si imaginava d’essere col sentirse adosso tanti rincontri di lance spezzate) facẽdosi riparo di noi altri se teneva à dietro come buon capitano, che per salute del suo esercito, la quale con la sua morte perirebbe, se tiene á dietro in conserva al sicuro et al largo, onde poi ad un bisogno possa correre á comandar ad altre genti che vengano al soccorso, o’ver essere lui medesmo l’ambasciator de la desgratia. Lui dumque caminando in questo ordine, non possea esser veduto da noi, i’ quali medesmamente essendo occupati in casi nostri non haveamo aggio di rivoltarci a’ dietro, et far qué gesti per manco dissimular, piú criminali.
PRUDENTIO. Optimé consultum.
THEOPHILO. Pure particolarmente quando fummo à la pyramide vicina al palazzo, in mezzo di tre strade.
THEOPHILO. Quivi ne se ferno in contro sei galant’huomini che haveano avanti un putto con una lanterna, et de questi uno dá una scossa á me che mi fé voltar á veder un’altro che ne dié un’altra doppia al Nolano, la quale fú sí gentile, et gorda; che sola possea passar per diece, et gli ne fé donar un’altra al muro, che possea quella ancho passar per altre diece.
PRUDENTIO. In silentio et spe, erit fortitudo vestra. Sí quis dederit tibi alapam; tribue illi et alteram.
THEOPHILO. Questa fú l’ultima borascha. per che poco oltre per la gratia di san Fortunio, dopo haver discorsi mal triti sentieri, passati dubbiosi divertigli, varcati rapidi fiumi, tralasciati arenosi lidi, superati limosi fanghi, spaccati turbidi pantani, vestigate pietrose lave, lustrati salvatichi incontri, trascorse lubriche strade, intoppato in ruvidi sassi, urtato in periglosi scogli: gionsemo per gratia del cielo vivi al porto, idest à la porta; la quale subito toccata ne fú aperta, entrãmo, trovammo á basso de molti et diversi personaggi; diversi, et molti servitori, i’ quali senza cessar senza chinar la testa, et senza segno alchun di riverenza, mostrandone spreggiar co la sua gesta: ne ferno questo favor, de mostrarne la porta, andiamo dentro, montamo su, trovamo che dopo haverci molto aspettato, desperatamente s’erano posti á tavola à sedere. Dopo fatti i’ saluti, et i’ resaluti.
PRUDENTIO. Salutationi.
THEOPHILUS. Et alchuni altri piccoli ceremoni (tra quali ve fú questo da ridere, che ad un de nostri essendo presentato l’ultimo loco, idest la coda de la tavola, et lui pensado che la fusse il capo, per humiltá voleva andar á seder dove sedeva il primo, et quà sí fú un piccol pezzo di tempo in contrasto trá quelli che per cortesia lo voleano far seder ultimo, et colui che per umiltà volea seder il primo) In conclusione. M. Florio sedde a’ viso d’un cavalliero, che sedeva al capo de la tavola; il Sig. Folco, á destra de M. Florio; io et il Nolano a’ sinistra de M. Florio; Il dottor Torquato á sinistra del Nolano; Il dottor Nundinio a’ viso a’ viso del Nolano.
SMITHO. Hor su lasciamo cenar costoro, lasciamole a’ tavola ripossar fin a’ domani.
FRULLA. Son certo che non prenderanno tanti bocconi, quãto han fatto de passi.
SMITHO. Suppliranno le paroli A’ rivederci.
THEOPHILO. A’ dio.
PRUDENTIO. Valete.
Fine del Secondo Dialogo.
[The translation presented here is based on the printed version of folio D in the copy held by the Trivulziana Library in Milan (call number Triv. L594), commonly known as Dt to distinguish it from the so-called “vulgata,” commonly known as Dv, which is presented in this volume as the definitive text. An anastatic reprint of Dt is in Giordano Bruno, Opere italiane: ristampa anastatica delle cinquecentine, II, ed. Eugenio Canone (Florence: Olschki, 1999), 327–466. The same editorial criteria have been used here as in the main text based on the British Library copy of Bruno’s work. The few opening pages of Dialogue III which close folio D are not included, as the differences between the two versions are minimal.]
[But evil fortune and not their own fault] has brought them to such an end. He who has won the prize is not alone in gaining such an honour. All those who run well deserve to win, even if they fail to do so in fact, and those who give up in despair in the middle of the race, instead of reaching the end with vigour and force (even if they are the last), should be ashamed:
I’ve noticed seed long chosen and tested with utmost care
Fall off, if each year the largest
Be not hand-picked by human toil. For a law of nature
Makes all things go to the bad, lose ground, and fall away;
Just as an oarsman, when he is sculling his skiff against
The current, needs but relax the drive of his arms a little
And the current will carry him headlong away downstream.1
Then let perseverance win. If the effort has been significant, the reward will not be small. It is difficult to obtain anything valuable, and the way to beatitude is straight and narrow. The heavens seem to promise much, which is what made the poet say:
For the Father of Agriculture
Gave us a hard calling: he first decreed it an art
To work the fields, sent worries to sharpen our mortal wits
And would not allow his realm to grow listless from lethargy.2
PRUDENTIUS. This is a very emphatic hyperbole, which would be more suited to a subject of greater importance.
FRULLA. It is in the power of princes, and is allowed them, to exalt lowly things, which, once they are judged worthy of note, will become so in fact. In this way, their acts may be judged more illustrious and renowned than if they were praising the great. For the great think that, in virtue of their greatness, they deserve everything imaginable. Being already superior, they expect to be confirmed in their superiority, which they think is not so much due to them by the grace, courtesy, or magnanimity of the prince as by the just and true order of things. Now apply this to the speech of our friend Theophilus: or otherwise, Master Prudentius, if you find it a little too harsh, detach it from this subject matter and attach it to another.
PRUDENTIUS. I simply observed that such a hyperbole appeared to me too emphatic for the subject at present under consideration.
FRULLA. I could add that Theophilus in this seems to share some of the characteristics of Prudentius. He should be forgiven, however, for it is my opinion that this weakness of yours is contagious. And there is no need to worry, for Theophilus knows how to make a virtue of necessity, and how to derive caution, survival, and sanity from infirmity. Go on, Theophilus, with what you were saying.
PRUDENTIUS. Ultra, domine.3
SMITHUS. Come on, do hurry up, before the time runs out.
THEOPHILUS. Now spread your sails, Theophilus, and clear your decks, and persuade yourself that the time has not yet come to set your course towards the highest places in the world. You are not yet worthy to speak of that light of the earth, that most singular and rare lady who sheds her beams throughout the globe from this cold sky, close to the Arctic parallel – Elizabeth, I mean, whose regal titles and dignity are inferior to no king’s in the world. For no one who holds a sceptre on the earth is second to her in wisdom, counsel, and the art of government. Her knowledge of the arts, her notions of science, the intelligence and ability with which she practises all languages the educated or simple people in Europe can understand, are without any doubt superior to those of all other princes. Her triumph is such that if the empire of fortune corresponded to that of her generous spirit and wit, she would be the only empress on this terrestrial sphere, and her divine hand would support the globe of universal monarchy with greater effect.
It is not your task, Theophilus, to speak of that heroic soul who, twenty-five years ago or more, with one glance, imposed peace and quiet at the very eye of the storms raging in a sea of adversity.4 She has remained firm in the midst of the towering waves and rolling breakers of many a tempest raised around her by this proud and furious Ocean that surrounds her on every side.
It is not for you to speak of her who, if represented as a fabled queen of long ago, would be defiled in the dignity of her single and solitary state. For she surpasses them all: some for the strength of her authority, others for her perseverance during her long, continuing, and uninterrupted reign, and all of them for her sobriety, reserve, wit, and knowledge. She outdoes them all for the hospitality and courtesy with which she receives all those foreigners who show themselves worthy of her grace and favour.
This is not the right moment in which to speak of the generosity and kindness of that illustrious nobleman Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, etc., so well known in neighbouring countries for a name fit to be pronounced together with that of the kingdom and the queen of England themselves. Many are the generous Italian hearts who have been favoured by special attentions from him (and from his lady).5 Together with him, we see the excellent Sir Francis Walsingham, Secretary to the Queen’s Privy Council, who, like those who sit beside the sun of royal splendour, is able to dissolve and disperse the shadows with the beams of his nobility.6 With the warmth of loving courtesy he purges and renders more civilized whatever uncouthness and vulgarity may be found, not among Britons only, but also among Scythians, Arabs, Tartars, cannibals, and anthropophagi. It would be inappropriate to refer here to the honest conversation, the civility and courtesy of many knights and noble Englishmen, among which, in particular, that most illustrious and excellent knight Sir Philip Sidney, known to us by name when we were in Milan and in France, and then in person now that we are in his country.7 His penetrating intelligence as well as the excellence of his manners are so rare and so unusual that it would be difficult to find the like among the most intelligent and the best mannered of men in Italy, or abroad.
In this way all reasons for praise have been dealt with. But at this point, in defiance of the world, the common people make their entrance; and in so far as they are common people, they are inferior to none who graze on the surface of this too, too generous earth. For they really have no equal as an example of the most common of common people I have ever known: irreverent, without respect, uncivilized, and uncouth.8 When they meet a foreigner they behave like as many wolves or bears, and with their dour looks they make faces at them as a pig might do to someone come to take away its fodder. These contemptible plebs can be divided, for the convenience of this narrative, into two sorts …
PRUDENTIUS. Omnis divisio debet esse bimembris, vel reducibilis ad bimembrem.9
THEOPHILUS. … of which one is composed of the artisans and shopkeepers who make faces at you, once they recognize you by your dress as a foreigner, laugh at you, grin at you, blurt at you, and call you in their language “dog,” “traitor,” or “foreigner.” This last is considered by them a particularly insulting word, which renders its holder liable to receive any insult in the world, regardless of whether he is old or young, robed or armed, a nobleman or a gentleman. It is this that makes them eager to create a difference of opinion with a foreigner; and when this happens, I can assure you that it is not as it is in Italy. There, if you happen to give one of these wretches a blow on the head, everyone will look around to see if a police officer is coming to make an arrest. If, by chance, somebody should make a move, it would be to divide and pacify them: to help the weakest, and to take the side of the foreigner. For nobody who is not a Court official, or someone who administers justice – that is, a police officer – would have the courage or the authority to lay hands on the criminal. Even if such a person were to prove incapable of making the arrest, anybody else would feel shame at helping him to do it. This is why the police, and sometimes more than one of them, lose their prey. But here, if by some misfortune it happens to you to touch one of these people, or to put your hand to your weapon, at once you will find yourself, for the whole length of the street, surrounded by an army of yokels who rise up from the ground more suddenly than (according to the poet’s fiction) those dragon’s teeth sown by Jason which turned into armed men.10 In reality, they appear from their shops and create an illusion of a forest composed of clubs, long sticks, spears, rods, and rusted forks, which they keep ready at all times to face circumstances such as these, even if they were supplied with them by their prince for a better use than this. With a truly rustic fury, they fall upon you, without caring about who, why, where, or how, and without consulting together beforehand. Each one of them is intent on pouring out the instinctive spite he feels for the foreigner. They want to do it with their own hands (if they can do so without interfering with all those others who have the same thing in mind). So here they come, each with his own rod to measure your garment, and, if you are not careful, to bash down your hat on your head as well.
If by chance some decent person or gentleman should be present and not like what he sees, even if he were a duke or an earl he would expect only to be injured, without being able to help you, if he were to join in the fray. For these people have no respect for anybody when they are armed in this way. For this reason, such a person would be obliged to contain his anger, and to wait at some distance for the incident to end. So, to come to the tandem,11 when you think that you can now go to call on the barber, to rest your tired and ill-treated frame, what you find there is that all of them are policemen or informers. If they can, they pretend that you have touched somebody (even if your back is broken, or your legs) as if you had the winged sandals of Mercury, or were mounted on the horse Pegasus, or riding the charger of Perseus, or Astolfo’s hippogriff, or leading the dromedary of Midian, or had trotting beneath you one of the giraffes of the three Magi.12 With savage blows, they force you to run, helping you along with those fierce fists of theirs; so it would be better for you if you were given so many kicks from cows, asses, or mules. They will never give up until they have got you in prison; and here me tibi commendo.13
PRUDENTIUS. A fulgore et tempestate, ab ira et indignatione, malitia, tentatione et furia rusticorum …
FRULLA. … libera nos domine.14
THEOPHILUS. As well as this sort, you have the various types of servants. I am not speaking of the highest ranks of these who, being the gentlemen of the nobles, usually wear no heraldic emblem or badge, unless their masters are particularly ambitious or they themselves wish to adulate them. Among this class, you will find civil manners.
PRUDENTIUS. Omnis regula exceptionem patitur.15
THEOPHILUS. Rather, I am speaking of the other servants. Those of the second rank have some sort of badge attached to them. As for the third rank, their masters are not grand enough for it to be fitting for them to have a badge; or perhaps they themselves are not considered worthy of wearing one. Then there are those of the fourth rank, who serve either their marked or unmarked fellows. They are the servants of servants.
PRUDENTIUS. Servus servorum non est malus titulus usquequaque.16
THEOPHILUS. The first rank of servants are the poor and needy gentlemen who, in order to procure possessions or favours, shelter under the wings of their betters. Normally they live in their own houses, and follow their lords with dignity, being esteemed and favoured by them. The second order come from the ranks of the bankrupt merchants, or artisans, or those who have studied law or the arts without profit. Often they have escaped, or been taken away from schools, warehouses, or shops. Those of the third rank are lazy fellows who, to escape more rigorous duties, have abandoned less servile professions. They are sluggards, either sea-goers who have left their boats, or landlubbers who have left their ploughs. The lowest of the low, or the fourth rank, are a mixture of desperadoes, men in the disgrace of their masters, sailors washed ashore in tempests, wanderers, useless people full of sloth. They may be unemployed thieves, escaped prisoners, or people with criminal designs, likely to be found under the arcade of the Exchange17 or the doors of St Paul’s. You can find as many as you want of the same sort in Paris at the gates of the Palace,18 in Naples on the steps of St Paul’s,19 in Venice at the Rialto.20
The last three are the kinds of people who, if you fail to make way for them, like to show how powerful and tough they are in their own house, and what good soldiers they are, and how they despise the rest of the world. They do this by giving you a blow with their shoulder, as if it were a battering-ram, making you whirl around so that you can see how strong and powerful they are, and how they would be capable, if necessary, of putting an army to rout. And if you happen to be a foreigner, no matter how much room you make for them, they will start to show you what Caesar, Hannibal, or Hector could do, or a bull about to gore. They are not content to behave like an ass, which, particularly when it is laden, simply continues on its way; so that if you do not move, it will not move either, and you will have to give it a blow, or it to you. But they are like water carriers who jab you with the iron spout of their jar, if you are not careful. The same thing can be said of those who carry beer or ale. If they should fall over you on their way, they will make you aware of the weight of what they are carrying; for not only do they have the strength to carry things on their shoulders, but to push them ahead of them too, or to pull them behind as if they were carts. In situations such as these, they can be excused, for they are more like asses, mules, or horses than men. But there is no excuse for the others, who act on a more rational level, and have human likeness and semblance. Yet it is they who, instead of saying good-day to you, or good-evening, will first of all look at you kindly as if they knew you and wanted to say something to you, and then will give you a nasty shove. And it is about these others that I want to make a complaint; for often they pretend to dash away from you to go to serve someone else, or to run some errand, while they slip into a shop. From there they emerge behind or beside you to give you a push like an angry bull. This is exactly what happened a few months ago to an Italian gentleman whose leg was broken and fractured, to the great pleasure and amusement of all those present.21 When an attempt was made to complain to the magistrate, it was judged that such a thing could not possibly have happened in that place. So when you want to go out of the house, try not to do it just to take a walk around the town, but only if there is an urgent need. Then make the sign of the cross, and arm yourself with an impenetrable shield of patience. Prepare yourself freely to put up with lesser evils rather than being forced to accept the worse.
Behave with caution, and remember that your opponent will never be one of the plebs, or two of them, or fifty only, but the whole republic and kingdom of the common people who, rightly or wrongly, hold our lives in their hands. For this reason, brother, when you feel someone pushing you in the way I have described, put your hand to your hat and salute your opponent, reasoning that he has done by you as he would by his friends or companions. And if that seems to be taking things rather far, at least ask his pardon so that he will not do you worse harm. For he could provoke you, pretending that it was you who pushed him, or at least wished to push him.
It is in circumstances such as these that you will best come to know them. The Nolan says that in the ten months he has been in England, that evening afforded him the best opportunities for doing penitence and gaining pardons. That evening was particularly suitable for being the beginning, middle, and end of Lent. “I want this evening,” he said, “to be worth all the penitence I would have done in forty days and forty nights of fasting. This evening I have been in the desert where I have gained forty thousand years of full remission of my sins, not for one or three but for forty temptations …”
PRUDENTIUS. Per modum suffraggii.22
THEOPHILUS. … so much so that I can surely say that I have gained pardons not only for the sins I have already committed, but also for many others that I might commit in the future.
PRUDENTIUS. Supererogatorie.23
FRULLA. What I would like to know is whether he actually counted the number of pushes and brutal blows he received, given his claim that there were forty of them. It reminds me of Master Manfurio, who was obliged by a band of rogues to count I don’t know how many of them.24
THEOPHILUS. If he had known that he would have had to support so many, perhaps he would have been curious enough to count them. But he always expected each one of them to be the last, although it turned out only to be the last but one. So when he claims that he received forty blows, he is probably doing as devout sinners do when they have to reply to the father confessor’s question of quoties: that is, how many times. For when they forget the number, they tend to pitch their guess high rather than low, fearing that if they say less than the truth, rather than benefitting from it, some sins might get left out; whereas in the other event, some extra ones get caught in the hand of the priest who absolves them. And it must be remembered that receiving such pushes, blows, and wounds is less pleasant than talking about them. For to the body each one is painful, whereas in telling the story it is the same thing to talk about two, twelve, forty, a hundred, or a thousand. In any case, however many there were, rather than counting his, I had the task of counting my own. He lagged behind, like those who give way to their companion when the path becomes difficult to negotiate. But that was a mistake; for the blows were no less heavy on the shoulders of those at the back than they were on the chests of those at the front. Still, by protecting himself behind the rest of us, he felt like nothing less than a prior following the monks of his order, or like a good captain who, for the safety of his army, follows the men going into battle (and he really thought there was one on, when he felt the points of all those lances). For an army perishes at the death of its captain, whereas if he stays behind and guards his own safety, he can if necessary run to command other troops arriving in support, or at the very least carry the news of the defeat. And so he walked at the back, where we were unable to see him. Given that we had to fend for ourselves, we were also unable to turn around or to respond with gestures even more criminal for want of dissimulation.
PRUDENTIUS. Optime consultum.25
THEOPHILUS. Then just as we reached the pyramid near the Palace, where three roads join …26
PRUDENTIUS. In trivio.27
THEOPHILUS. … just there six fellows came towards us led by a boy with a lantern. One of them gave me a shove which made me whirl round just in time to see another who was giving a double dose to the Nolan with a blow so sweet and hefty that it seemed like ten, and made him hit the wall as if that too was giving him ten blows again.
PRUDENTIUS. In silentio et spe erit fortitudo vestra. Si quis dederit tibi alapam, tribue illi et alteram.28
THEOPHILUS. That was the last storm we encountered. After having wandered so long over barely trodden paths and through unfrequented by-ways, crossed swift-flowing rivers, left sandy beaches behind us, skated over slimy mud, waded through miry sloughs, picked our way over stony gutters, survived dangerous encounters, passed along treacherous highways, stumbled over rough stones, and collided with rugged rocks, by the grace of God and St Fortune we arrived at the port, idest at the portico. As soon as we knocked, it was opened. We entered and found below the many and various servants of many and various people. Without stopping what they were doing or bowing their heads, and without any sign of respect but rather with a show of contempt, they at least did us the favour of showing us which door to go through. We entered and went upstairs. There we found that, after having waited for us for a long time, the company had resigned themselves to sitting down at table. After we had made and repeated our greetings …
PRUDENTIUS. Salutations.
THEOPHILUS. … and indulged in some little ceremonies (one of which made us laugh, because someone in our party was offered the lowest place, that is the place at the end of the table, and, thinking that it was the head, he desired, out of modesty, to be put in the place of honour, creating a little fuss between those who wanted him to sit at the lowest place and him who wanted to sit at the highest), we reached a conclusion with Mr Florio seated facing a knight who was head of table; Sir Fulke to the right of Mr Florio; the Nolan and I on the left of Mr Florio; Dr Torquatus on the left of the Nolan, and Dr Nundinius facing the Nolan.29
SMITHUS. So now we can leave them to their supper. Let us leave them at table to rest until tomorrow.
FRULLA. I doubt if they will take as many mouthfuls as they took steps to get there.
SMITHUS. Words will do them instead. And so, goodbye.
THEOPHILUS. Goodbye.
PRUDENTIUS. Valete.30