Bernardo TASSO!-there is magic in that name; and yet it is not as the author of the beautiful Amadigi,' nor even as the father of the immortal Torquato Tasso, that he is most endeared to all the lovers of Italian poetry. It is because he was one of those gifted men, whose versatile genius belongs almost exclusively to the age in which he lived. It is true, that, in the classic days of our Queen Anne, Addison was her prime minister, and Prior her ambassador. But, above a century before their time, Bernardo Tasso had proved that the imaginative qualities of a poet were not incompatible with the abstruse theories of a philosopher, the practical duties of a statesman, the enlarged views of a diplomatist, and the brilliant valour of a soldier.

Born at Bergamo in 1493, the seventy years of his life were passed amongst the most exciting events in the history of Europe-events which mark that era as peculiarly the age of romance. In Spain, during his infancy, Ferdinand and Isabella were laying the foundation of their grandson's glory, in the pageantry of their Moorish wars. In his youth, the pavilions of Fontainbleau exhibited a concentration of wit, beauty, and heroism till then unknown; for the gallant but unfortunate Francis I. was the first prince who admitted ladies to his court, observing, that a drawing-room without women, was like a spring without flowers.' In England, subjects such as a Wolsey, a Leicester, or a Burleigh, rivalled monarchs in magnificence; whilst, in courtesy and accomplishments, Sir Philip Sidney, Sir Walter Raleigh, and the 'Admirable Crichton,' were models to every rank.

At nearly the same period, Italy was illuminated by the galaxy of talent which Lorenzo de Medici, and afterwards his grandson Leo X., attracted round themselves; whilst various minor sovereigns of that favoured soil emulated their patronage of art and literature. Amongst the most distinguished of these was Ferrante Sanseverino, Prince of Salerno; the families of Ranzoni, Dukes of Modena; Este of Ferrara, Zforza of Milan, Gonzaga of Mantua, Rovere of Urbino, Emmanuel of Savoy, and the two brothers of the house of Davilos, Dukes of Asti, of whom one

Alphonso, governor of Milan, was preeminent in munificence and liberality; and the other, Ferdinand, Marquis de Pescaro, was the husband of Vittoria Colonna, the beloved of Michael Angelo. Nor was Bernardo Tasso an unworthy compeer of these illustrious men; for, in the variety of his acquirements, the refinement of his taste, the extent of his celebrity, and his love of splendour, he was scarcely excelled by any of his contemporaries.

The peculiar cast of his poetry may also be attributed to the times in which he lived. The pens of the blind poet of Ferrara, of Pulci, of Boiardo, and of Ariosto, had already delineated the feats of an Orlando or a Morgante. Whilst in the prime of his life, the Field of the Cloth of Gold (in 1520) realised in its tilts and tournaments the chronicles of Turpin. Four years afterwards, he beheld the sun of chivalry sink on Bayard's grave, and its last rays shed a halo on the deeds of a Gonsalvo, a Cortez, and a Gaston de Foix, who emulated, if they did not verify, some of the achievements of Charlemagne and his paladins; and thus truth and fiction equally aided in recalling to the mind the most marvellous feats of the heroes of romance.

Even the vicissitudes that marked the life of Bernardo Tasso were characteristic of that day. Though born of noble parents, his first years were spent in penury. Both his parents died suddenly, within a few hours of each other, leaving Bernardo and a younger sister with barely sufficient for their maintenance. The little girl was soon provided for by her uncle, Il Cavaliere Tasso, who placed her in a convent, where she subsequently took the veil; and another brother of their father's, the Bishop of Recanato, adopted Bernardo, and placed him at college, where he soon made an extraordinary progress in the Greek and Latin languages, forming his own taste on the classics, then lately restored to Europe. His success in poetry and eloquence was so great, it attracted public attention. His reputation already spread to a distance, and he was acknowledged to be one of the most promising youths of Italy. Estimable in character, and equally refined in manners,

he added to these advantages great personal beauty, of which there is evidence in a portrait of him still preserved in the council-chamber at Bergamo. It represents him as tall, erect, and remarkably well proportioned, with an open forehead, brilliant eyes, and a thick black beard, cut in the fashion of that time.* Thus formed to love and to be loved, the young Bernardo bestowed all the tender enthusiasm of a devoted heart on the beautiful Genevra Malatesta; a lady of high rank, as remarkable for the excellence of her character, as for personal loveliness. And in those days he thought himself beloved. Hope gilded futurity, and the present passed happily under the kind auspices of his uncle, who, proud of the fame of his young relative, already proclaimed him his heir. This wealthy prelate had purchased a villa in the immediate neighbourhood of Bergamo, which commanded views of the rich plain that stretched beneath the giant Alps, and, watered by innumerable streams, forms one of the loveliest landscapes in Italy. The towers and steeples of Bergamo, crowning the steep ascent on which the city stands, terminate the distance, now bright in the noonday sun, or shining dark against the golden glories of the western sky. Thither the uncle and nephew frequently retired; and many a time the woods re-echoed the most touching lines of the enamoured poet, as sometimes he openly declared his passion, and at other times celebrated the charms of his lady-love under the allegorical title of 'Genebra.'

It was in the month of September, 1520, when the bishop and Bernardo returned to this villa, to pass some days amidst its lovely scenery. They had spent a happy evening; and the rosy tint of the mountains, reposing in the sun's last beam, seemed but a reflection of their tranquil pleasures: and when the venerable prelate retired to rest, perhaps his last orison was a prayer to heaven for the son of his adoption; perhaps his last blessing dwelt for ever on Bernardo's mind, for on this side the grave they never met again. In the middle of the night, two of the bishop's domestics stole into his chamber, murdered their unresisting victim, and, possessing themselves of all his money, plate, and valuables, made their escape with everything that was portable. When morning revealed the horrid deed, *A statue of his son, Torquato Tasso, ornaments the principal square in Bergamo.

the anguish of Tasso can better be imagined than described. At first he was absorbed in grief for his loss, and in endeavours to discover and punish the murderers; but, when he had leisure to revise his own circumstances, he found them changed indeed. By the death of his kind protector, he had lost both his patronage and his inheritance, and he found himself once more reduced to the small patrimony he derived from his father.

Too energetic to despond, Bernardo returned to the University of Padua, determined to turn those talents to use which he had hitherto only cultivated for amusement; and he accordingly devoted himself to the study of politics and philosophy, with a diligence and success that paved the way to his future greatness. Yet at that moment a still deeper grief assailed him. The time was not yet arrived when princes courted his society, and their satellites hung upon his favour. No indication had yet appeared of that taste and love of magnificence that subsequently rendered his costly entertainments matters of history. True, he was young, handsome, and renowned; but he was still poor, and the family of Malatesta bestowed the hand of his beloved Genevra on his rival, the Conte d'Obezzi. felt his loss as only such a character could feel; and as poetry was the natural language of his soul, he soon after her marriage gave expression to his misery in a sonnet, so pathetic, and so universally admired, that, according to Guinguene, 'it was learned by heart by every man and woman in Italy.'

Tasso

Did the faithless bride only feel the gratification of her vanity in the notoriety and sincerity of the passion she had inspired? Or did she learn to regret the abandonment of her first love, when, a short time afterwards, the 'poor' poet emerged from his eclipse, and appeared at the Court of Rome in the brilliant character of envoy to Julius II., from the Count Guido Ranzoni, general of the Papal Forces. Bernardo executed this confidential and important mission so much to the satisfaction of both parties, that his peculiar talent for diplomacy was at once established; and, soon after, Leo X. sent him on a special embassy to Francis I., for the purpose of arranging a fresh invasion of Italy by the French, as a counterpoise to the increasing power of Charles V. But the succession of Adrian VI. to the papal chair (in 1522) changed

habits, tastes, and almost the occupations of their respective owners. And so it may have been with Tasso's furniture; for one of his learned biographers even describes the ink-stand which he used to the end of his life, which was formed of a vase for burning perfumes, of exquisite Arabian workmanship, that he brought with other valuables from the siege of Tunis, whither he accompanied the Prince of Salerno, then the ally of Charles V.

Still, amongst his various avocations and severest studies, Tasso found leisure for the composition of poetry, to which he habitually turned for recreation; and even in this memorable siege he wrote many of the best amongst his lighter works, whilst he equally distinguished himself by such bravery, that Sanseverino publicly rewarded his services by adding to his income. He also pleased him more, by giving him a fresh opportunity of exertion, in sending him on an embassy to Spain, in which, as usual, he was a successful negotiator. On his return from thence, Tasso obtained leave from the prince to visit Venice, for the purpose of superintending a new edition of his works, and there he was received with acclamation by a host of friends. He was now the favourite of fortune. Courted by the great, and beloved by his intimates, his return to that city, the throne of pleasure, was the signal for a revival of all its boasted gaieties. Amidst the festivities of which Bernardo was ostensibly the object, he first beheld the beautiful Tullia of Arragon, the Aspasia of her day. Amidst her various attractions, her poetical talents were not the least, and her verses have been celebrated by others of her admirers, as well as by Bernardo himself. The result may be anticipated. The Lagoon of Venice with such a syren detained the enamoured Tasso more than a year from his official duties; and it is a characteristic trait of that remarkable age, that, when at last he sprang from his chain, and returned to Salerno, the mutual attachment of the gifted pair became a subject of public interest, and their loves, and their griefs, and their parting, were sung by many minor poets, and even lamented by Speron Speroni, and other graver writers.

When Bernardo rejoined the prince, he found both him and the princess anxious to promote his marriage with a lady of high birth then of their court, and this, no doubt, partly arose from a dread of

being again deprived equally of his society and his services. Be that, however, as it may, it was chiefly through their intervention that, in 1539, he espoused Porzia di Rossi, who, to a large fortune, united the advantages of beauty, merit, and accomplishments, and, above all, a devoted attachment to her husband. On their nuptials, Sanseverino added considerably to Tasso's annuity, and gave him permission to retire with his bride to a villa he had purchased, not very far from the capital. On the cliff that forms the promontory of Sorento, still stands a house, known to all modern travellers as the Hotel de Tasso. Behind it rises the steep ascent, defending the classic site, lest the breath of heaven visit it too roughly; and nearly opposite the windows lies the Island of Capri, with its dark blue cave. Far on the horizon, Procida sleeps on the clear waters, which in the intermediate distance ripple round the bay, reflecting the beauties of La bella Napoli, while their 'wild waves whistle,' chained, as it were, to the feet of the domes and palaces whose images, reflected on her bosom, charm to constancy the tideless There, for a few years, Bernardo enjoyed more happiness than usually falls to the lot of man.

sea.

He became successively the father of a daughter and of three sons, of whom the youngest, Torquato, was born on the 11th of March, 1544. And in this retreat, at once magnificent and picturesque, Bernardo commenced his poem of 'Amadigi,' at the especial request of Sanseverino, Don Francisco de Toledo, Don Lewis d'Avila, and some other distinguished patrons of literature: thus reaching what may be called the tableland of his life's journey. His subsequent descent from this summit of enjoyment served, however, to prove him worthy of having once attained it, as his fortitude in adversity was beyond all praise; and of him it has been truly said, that he possessed a disposition so essentially happy, that, in rising superior to misfortune, he disarmed it.

At the time of Torquato's birth, the ambition of Charles V. had bound the destiny of Europe to his standard, and the welfare of states and the happiness of individuals equally depended on the success of a despot. The transient conquests of the Duke d'Enghien in Piedmont, even accelerated the downfal of Francis I.; for, exasperated at the loss of 10,000 imperialists in the battle of Cerizoles, Charles,