No. XII. Matris munera, roscidae Nubes, vestro Pio fundite Maximo; Non haec vestra Pius munera negliget; Tandem o vos requiem date Fessis irriguo rore animantibus. No. XIII.-P. 177. OF THE AMINTA. No. XIII. As next to the Jerusalem Delivered, the Aminta is the strongest title which Tasso has to the admiration of posterity, it will be proper to dwell on it at some length. The story of this drama is extremely simple, and (with the exception of the introduction of the Satyr) is sufficiently natural. Aminta, a young shepherd is enamoured of Sylvia, a nymph of uncommon beauty, but who is very cruel, not from any particular aversion to him, but to love in general. In the first scene of the first act, Daphne, a sister nymph, in vain attempts to persuade Sylvia to become less rigid; and in the second, Aminta relates to Tirsi, the rise and ill success of his attachment. The act then concludes with a chorus of exquisite sweetness, which Crescimbeni declares to be singly worth the greater part of the compositions of Italian poetry.* It would seem that Tasso had been, at the time of writing it, under the influence of the most violent passion for some unattainable object. He bewails the obstacles which honour opposes to the gratification of mutual desire, and regrets the liberty, or unreproved and innocent licence, of the golden age.+ * Il primo Coro solamente dell' Aminta vale gran parte di quanto in volgar Poesia composto si legge Stor. Volg. Poes. vol. II. p. 444, O bella età dell'oro Non già perchè di latte Sen corse il fiume, e stilló mele il bosco : Non perchè i frutti loro Oh happy age of gold! VOL. I. Dier dall' aratro intatte Le'terre, e gli angui errar senz'ira, o tosco: Non perchè nuvol fosco Non spiegò allor suo velo; Ma in primavera eterna, Ch'ora s'accende, e verna, Rise di luce, e di sereno il cielo : Nè portò peregrino guerra, o merce agli altrui lidi il pino. Ma sol, perchè quel vano Nome senza soggetto Quell' Idolo d'errori, Idal d'inganno: Quel che dal volgo insano Onor poscia fu detto, Che di nostra natura'l feo tiranno, Non mischiava il suo affanno Fra le liete dolcezze De l'amoroso gregge; Nè fu sua dura legge Nota a quell'alme in libertate avvezze ; Ma legge aurea, e felice, Che natura scolpì" S'ei piace, ei lice." 2 z No. XIII. No. XIII. Allor tra fiori, e linfe, Traean dolci carole Gli Amoretti senz'archi, e senza faci; Meschiando alle parole Vezzi, e susurri, ed a i susurri i baci La verginella ignuda Scopria sue fresche rose Ch'or tien nel velo ascose, E le poma del seno, acerbe, e crude: E spesso o in fiume, o in lago Tu prima, Onor, velasti La fonte de i diletti Negando l'onde all'amorosa sete: Tu a' begli occhi insegnasti Di starne in se ristretti, E tener lor bellezze altrui secrete : Tu raccogliesti in rete Le chiome all'aura sparte: * Tu i dolci atti lascivi Festi ritrosi, e schivi: A i detti il fren ponesti, a i passi l'arte. Opra è tua sola O Onore Che furto sia quel che fu don d'Amore. E son tuoi fatti egregi Le pene, e i pianti nostri, Ma tu; d'Amore, e di Natura donno, Tu domator de' regi, Che fai tra questi chiostri Che la grandezza tua capir non ponno? Vattene, e turba il sonno Agl'illustri, e potenti: Noi quì negletta, e bassa Turba, senza te lassa Viver nell' uso dell' antiche genti. Amiam, che non ha tregua Con gli anni umana vita, e si dilegua: Amiam; che'l Sol si muore, e poi rinasce: A noi sua breve luce S'asconde, e'l sonno eterna notte adduce. † Ses cheveux (says Mad. de Stael, in describing Corinne,) étaient rassemblés dans un filet de soie à l'Italienne. + In the translation of this chorus, I have been indebted for several verses to Daniel, Then amid springs, and flow'rs, In sweet delightful sort, Sat lovers without tortures, without wrongs; And nymphs, and swains, in throngs Blended, in sweet disport, With whispers, kisses, and with kisses, songs: And scorn was yet unknown; The naked virgin then, Untutor'd to give pain, Or coldly treasure what might render blest, Her roses without veil, Nor hid the apples of her heaving breast: And oft in silver lake, or dancing stream, The lovers sported; nor of ill did dream. Thou first, oh child of Pride! Each fountain of delight, Didst shut (relentless!) from the amorous thirst; Thou taught'st fair eyes to hide The glory of their light, Refrain'd from men, and on themselves reverst; Thou in a net didst first The golden tresses bind, Which floated in the wind, And sweet, and native wantonness restrain'd, The artless whisper chain'd, And bad'st the tongue betray the heart no more; Oh Honour, it is thou! That mad'st each gesture feign'd, And that be stealth, which was a gift before. Honour! 'tis thee that brings On human hearts their woes: But oh, fierce lord of Nature, and of Love! Tyrant of mighty kings! Why trouble our repose, Or leave the palace to torment the grove ? Go, and from us remove, Nor break the humble rest Of us, who poor, yet but for thee, were blest: Go!-with thy Gothic sway The haughty's sleep infest, Go! and let us the ancient rites obey: Let's love this life of ours Can make no truce with time that all devours; Let's love-the Sun renews his course, With fresh resistless force; But we-ah! we, shall set in endless night, Nor spurn again the waves that quench'd our light. No. XIII. No. XIII. I am aware how ridiculously apt a biographer or commentator is to find every thing in his author, and wish to be on my guard against it. I cannot however, help thinking, that Milton had his eye on this chorus in his unrivalled description of Adam and of Eve: I mean, that he attuned by it his soul to that exquisite tenderness, with which, during the composition of that description, it must have been inspired. Of Nature's works, Honour dishonourable, Sin-bred! how have ye troubled all mankind And banish'd from man's life, his happiest life, Simplicity and spotless innocence ! So pass'd they naked on, nor shunn'd the sight Of God or Angel, for they thought no ill............ Stood whispering soft, by a fresh fountain side On the soft downy bank damask'd with flow'rs :...... Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles Wanted......... In the second act of the Aminta, a Satyr is introduced complaining of the small effect which his masculine beauties had produced on the heart of Sylvia; and resolving, since neither prayers nor presents had prevailed, to conceal himself near a fountain where she was wont to bathe, and to treat her very rudely. To this fountain Aminta had been spirited up to go, and, upon his arrival, is fortunate enough to deliver Sylvia from the Satyr, who is binding her naked to a tree. This we learn from Tirsi in the third act, and from him too we learn that the nymph did not seem very grateful for the interposition of her lover, but had fled away as soon as untied. Aminta is so afflicted at this, that he is resolved to kill himself, but is prevented by Daphne, the friend of Sylvia, who is *It seems to me that a period ought to be here, though in this mode of punctuation I am unsanctioned, I believe, by any edition of Milton.-See P. L. Book IV. v. 313. |