"There, in so far as I had power to hear,
Were lamentations none, but only sighs,
Which tremulous made the everlasting air.
And this was caused by sorrow without torment
Which the crowds had, that many were and great,
Of infants and of women and of men."
I, Gonzalo de Berc&eacte;o, in the gentle summer-
tide,
Wending upon a pilgrimage, came to a meadow's
side ;
All green was it and beautiful, with flowers far
And wide,
A pleasant spot, I ween, wherein the traveller
might abide.
Flowers with the sweetest odours filled all the
sunny air,
And not alone refreshed the sense, but stole the
mind from care ;
On every side a fountain gushed, whose waters
pure and fair
Ice-cold beneath the summer sun, but warm in
winter were.
There on the thick and shadowy trees, amid
the foliage green, Were the fig and the pomegranate, the pear and
apple seen, And other fruits of various kinds, the tufted
leaves between ;
none were unpleasant to the taste and none
decayed, I ween.
The verdure of the meadow green, the odour
of the flowers,
The grateful shadows of the trees, tempered with
fragrant showers,
Refreshed me in the burning heat of the sultry
noontide hours ;
0, one might live upon the balm and fragrance
of those bowers.
Ne'er had I found on earth a spot that had
such power to please,
Such shadows from the summer sun, such odours
on the breeze ;
I threw my mantle on the ground, that I might
rest at ease,
And stretched upon the greensward lay in the
shadow of the trees.
There, soft reclining in the shade, all cares
beside me flung,
I heard the soft and mellow notes that through the
woodland rung.
Ear never listened to a strain, from instrument
or tongue,
So mellow and harmonious as the songs above me sung."
See also Brunetto Latini, Tesorello, XIX. ; the Vision of Piers Ploughrnan; Gower's Confessio Amantis, VIII., &c.
"Now, almost in the opening of the Purgatory, as at the entrance of the Inferno, we find a company of great ones resting in a grassy place. But the idea of the grass now is very different. The word now used is not "enamel," but "herb," and instead of being merely green, it is covered with flowers of many colours. With the usual mediaeval accuracy, Dante insists on telling us precisely what these colours were, and how bright ; which he does by naming the actual pigments used in illumination,-- "Gold, and fine silver, and cochineal, and white lead, and Indian wood, serene and lucid, and fresh emerald, just broken, would have been excelled, as less is by greater, by the flowers and grass of the place." It is evident that the 'emerald" here means the emerald green of the illuminators ; for a fresh emerald is no brighter that one which is not fresh, and Dante was not one to throw away his words thus. Observe, then, we have here the idea of the growth, life, and variegation of the "green herb," as opposed to the smaltoof the Inferno ; but the colours of the variegation are illustrated and defined by the reference to actual pigments ; and, observe, because the other colours are rather bright, the blue ground (Indian wood, indigo ?) is sober ; lucid, but serene ; and presently two angels enter, who are dressed in the green drapery, but of a paler green than the grass, which Dante marks, by telling us that it was 'the green of leaves just budded."
"In all this, I wish the reader to observe two things : first, the general carefulness of the poet in defining colour, in distinguishing it precisely as a painter would (opposed to the Greek carelessness about it) ; and, secondly, his regarding the grass for its greenness and variegation, rather than, as a Greek would have done, for its depth and freshness. This greenness or brightness, and variegation, are taken up by later and modern poets, as the things intended to be chiefly expressed by the word "enamelled ;" and, gradually, the term is taken to indicate any kind of bright and interchangeable colouring ; there being always this much of propriety about it, when used of greensward, that such sward is indeed, like enamel, a coat of bright colour on a comparatively dark ground ; and is thus a sort of natural jewelry and painter's work, different from loose and large vegetation. The word is often awkwardly and falsely used, by the later poets, of all kinds of growth and colour ; as by Milton of the flowers of Paradise showing themselves over its wall ; but it retains, nevertheless, through all its jaded inanity, some half-unconscious vestige of the old sense, even to the present day."
"Salve Regina, mater misericordiae,
Vita, dulcedo et spes nostra, salve."
He would not go to Rome to be crowned, and took so little interest in Italian affairs, that Italy became almost independent of the Empire, which seems greatly to disturb the mind of Dante. He died in 1291.
But the wife was not quiet under this humiliation, and excited him to revolt against Rudolph. He was again overcome, and killed in battle in 1278.
Yet this is the monarch whose tyrrany in Sicily brought about the bloody revenge of the Sicilian Vespers; which in turn so roused the wrath of Charles, that he swore that, "if he could live a thousand years, he would go on razing the cities, burning the lands, torturing the rebellious slaves. He would leave Sicily a blasted, barren, uninhabited rock, as a warning to the present age, an example to the future."
"Wel can the wise poet of Florence,
"The wager of battle between the kings," says Milman, Latin Christianity, VI. 168, " which maintained its solemn dignity up almost to the appointed time, ended in a pitiful comedy, in which Charles of Anjou had the ignominy of practising base and disloyal designs against his adversary ; Peter, that of eluding the contest by craft, justifiable only as his mistrust of his adversary was well or ill grounded, but much too cunning for a frank and generous knight. He had embarked with his knights for the South of France ; he was cast back by tempests on the shores of Spain. He set off with some of his armed companions, crossed the Pyrenees undiscovered, appeared before the gates of Bordeaux, and summoned the English Seneschal. To him he proclaimed himself to be the king of Aragon, demanded to see the lists, rode down them in slow state, obtained an attestation that he had made his appearance within the covenanted time, and affixed his solemn protest against the palpable premeditated treachery of his rival, which made it unsafe for him to remain longer at Bordeaux. Charles, on his part, was furious that Peter had thus broken through the spider's web of his policy.
He was in Bordeaux when Peter appeared under the walls, and had challenged him in vain. Charles presented himself in full armour on the appointed day, summoned Peter to appear, and proclaimed him a recreant and a dastardly craven, unworthy of the name of knight."
Charles of Anjou, Peter the Third of Aragon, and Philip the Third of France, all died in the same year, 1285.
Dickens, Child's History of England, Ch. XV., says of him : "He was as much of a king in death as he had ever been in life. He was the mere pale shadow of a king at all times."
His "better issue" was Edward the First, called, on account of his amendment and establishment of the laws, the English Justinian, and less respectfully Longshanks, on account of the length of his legs. "His legs had need to be strong," says the authority just quoted, "however long, and this they were; for they had to support him through many difficulties on the fiery sands of Syria, where his small force of soldiers fainted, died, deserted, and seemed to melt away. But his prowess made light of it, and he said, 'I will go on, if I go on with no other follower than my groom.'
Longfellow (1897), Purg. 07.112
Peter the Third of Aragon (1276-1285), the enemy of Charles of Anjou
and competitor with him for the kingdom of Sicily. He is counted among
the Troubadours, and when Philip the Bold invaded his kingdom, Peter
launched a song against him, complaining that "flower de luce" kept
him sorrowing in his house," and calling on the Gascons for aid.
Longfellow (1897), Purg. 07.113
Charles of Anjou, king of Sicily and Naples (1265). Villani, VII. I, thus describes him : '' This Charles was wise and prudent, and valiant in arms, and rough, and much feared and re-doubted by all the kings of the world; magnaminous and of a high spirit; steadfast in carrying on every great enter-prise, hrm in every adversity, and true to every promise, speaking little and doing much. He laughed but little; was chaste as a monk, catholic, harsh in judgment, and of a fierce countenance; large and muscular in person, with an olive complexion and a large nose, and looked the king more than any other lord. He sat up late at night, and slept little, and was in the habit of saying that a great deal of time was lost in sleeping. He was generous to his knights, but eager to acquire land, lordship, and money wherever he could, to furnish means for his enterprises and wars. In courtiers, minstrels, and players he never took delight."
Longfellow (1897), Purg. 07.116
Philip the Third of Aragon left four sons, Alfonso, James, Frederick, and Peter. Whether the stripling here spoken of is Alfonso or Peter does not appear.
Longfellow (1897), Purg. 07.121
Chaucer, Wif of Bathes Tale:--
That highte Dant, speken of this sentence:
Lo, in swiche maner rime is Dantes tale.
Ful selde up riseth by his branches smale
Prowesse of man, for God of his goodnesse
Wol that we claime of him our gentillesse:
For of our elders may we nothing claime
But temporel thing, that man may hurt and maime."
Longfellow (1897), Purg. 07.124
It must be remembered that these two who are singing together in this Valley of Princes were deadly foes on earth ; and one had challenged the other to determine their quarrel by single combat.
Longfellow (1897), Purg. 07.126
These kingdoms being badly governed by his son and successor, Charles the Second, called the Lame.
Longfellow (1897), Purg. 07.128
Daughters of Raymond Berenger the Fifth, Count of Provence ; the first married to St. Louis of France, and the second to his brother, Charles of Anjou.
Longfellow (1897), Purg. 07.129
Constance, daughter of Manfredi of Apulia, and wife of Peter the Third of Aragon.
Longfellow (1897), Purg. 07.131
Henry the Third (1216-1272,) of whom Hume says : "This prince was noted for his piety and devotion, and his regular attendance on public worship ; and a saying of his on that head is much celebrated by ancient writers. He was engaged in a dispute with Louis the Ninth of France, concerning the preference between sermons and masses; he maintained the superiority of the latter, and affirmed that he would rather have one hour's conversation with a friend, than hear twenty of the most elaborate discourses pronounced in his praise."
Longfellow (1897), Purg. 07.134
The Marquis of Monferrato, a Ghibelline, was taken prisoner by the people of Alessandria in Piedmont, in 1290, and, being shut up in a wooden cage, was exhibited to the public like a wild beast. This he endured for eighteen months, till death released him. A bloody war was the consequence between Alessandria and the Marquis's provinces of Monferrato and Canavese.
Longfellow (1897), Purg. 07.135
The city of Alessandria is in Piedmont, between the Tanaro and the Bormida, and not far from their junction. It was built by the Lombard League, to protect the country against
the Emperor Frederick, and named in honour of Pope Alexander the Third, a protector of the Guelphs. It is said to have been built in a single year, and was called in derision, by tile Ghibellines, Alessandria della Paglia (of the Straw); either from the straw used in the bricks, or more probably from the supposed insecurity of a city built in so short a space of time.