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CHIABRERA.

1552-1637.

GABBRIELLO CHIABRERA was born at Savona, a town on the sea-shore, not far from Genoa, on the 8th of June, 1552. He was born fifteen days after his father's death, and his mother, Gironima Murasana, being young when she was left a widow, married again; which circumstance caused Chiabrera to be brought up by an uncle and aunt, brother and sister to his father, who were both unmarried. At the age of nine, his uncle, who resided at Rome, took him thither, and gave him a private tutor, who taught him Latin. He was twice during childhood assailed by dangerous fevers, which left him so weak and spiritless, that his uncle placed him at the Jesuits' college, that he might regain vigour and hilarity in the company of boys of his own age. The experiment succeeded, and Chiabrera became robust and healthy to the end of his long life. During his juvenile years, his application, memory, and studious habits attracted the applause of his instructors; and the Jesuits were desirous of inducing him to become one of them. The youth showed no disinclination; but his uncle watched over him, and prevented that sacrifice of liberty and independence, which would have rendered him miserable through life. When he was twenty this good uncle died; but he had emancipated himself from monkish influence, and after paying his relations at Savona a short visit, he returned again to Rome, where coming accidentally into contact with the cardinal Comaro Camerlingo, he entered his service, in which he remained some years.

His residence at Rome, however, came to a disastrous termination he was insulted by a Roman gentleman, and being forced by the laws of honour to avenge himself, the consequences obliged him to quit the city; nor was he permitted to return till eight years after. He now took up his abode in his native town, and grew to love the leisure and independence of his life. At one time his tranquillity was disturbed by another quarrel, in which he was wounded; but with his own hand, as he tells us, took his revenge. He was forced, on this, to absent himself from Savona; and remained, as it were, outlawed for several months, when at last a reconciliation being brought about, he returned and enjoyed many years of complete tranquillity.

Chiabrera had been born rich, but he was negligent of his affairs, so that at last his fortune was reduced to a mere competence; and this was at one time even endangered by a lawsuit at Rome, all his property there being confiscated; but it was returned to him, through the intervention of cardinal Aldobrandini. At the age of fifty he married, but had no children. With the few interruptions above recorded, he passed a life of peaceful leisure, content with his fortunes, honoured and esteemed by every body, and rendered happy by the exercise of his talents and imagination. While at Rome in his early life, he had cultivated the friendship of literary men; and during his leisure, on his return to Savona, he occupied himself by reading poetry as a recreation. His own genius developed itself as he studied the productions of others. The Greek poets particularly delighted him; and perceiving how inuch they excelled all other writers, he made them his study, till, his emulation being awakened, he wrote some odes in imitation of Pindar: these being much admired, he was encouraged to continue, still making the Greek lyrical poets his models, though he did not confine his admiration to them only. Homer he preferred to all other writers; he was charmed by the versification and imagery of Virgil; and appreciated in

Dante and Ariosto, the power which they possessed of felicitously describing and representing the objects which they desire to bring before their readers.*

Chiabrera had the ambition of forming a new style; as he expressed it, he meant to follow the example of his countryman, Columbus, and to find a new world, or be wrecked in the attempt. His wish was, to transfuse the spirit of the Greeks into the Italian language. He perceived that the fault common to the poets of his day, was a certain cowardice of style, and an obedience to arbitrary laws, which limited and chilled the poetic fervour. He shook off these trammels, and adopted every possible mode of versification, and even bent the dialect of Petrarch and Tasso to new and unknown forms of expression. He was no lover of rhyme, preferring to it a majestic harmony in the arrangement of syllables and sound, which he found more musical and expressive than the mere jingle of a concluding word. His style thus became at once novel and exalted. He adorned his verses with pompous epithets and majestic turns of expression: he was harmonious and dignified, fervent and spirited.+

As he dedicated nearly the whole of his long life to the composition of poetry, he has left a vast quantity, much of which has never been printed,-narrative poems, dramas, odes, canzoni ‡, sonnets, &c.; but his canzoni, or lyrics, far excel all the rest. This results from his style being at once more original and beautiful than his ideas. We are apt to say, as we read, we have seen this before, but never so well expressed. He does not, like Petrarch, anatomise his own feelings, and spend his heart in grief: even in his love poetry, while he complains, he does not lament, and there is a sort of laughing and vivacious grace and a liquid softness diffused over these poems in particular, which is in

* Vita di se stesso. + Muratori. There is no English word that gives the exact idea of a canzone; we call such 1rical poems; yet in Italian they form a class apart.

finitely charming. One of his most celebrated, beginning

"Belle rose porporine,"

is in praise of his lady's smile. It is impossible for any thing to be more airy and yet heartfelt he speaks of how the earth is said to laugh, when, at the morning hour, a rivulet or a breeze wanders murmuring amid the grass, or a meadow adorns itself with flowers; how the sea laughs, when a light zephyr dips its airy feet in the clear waters, so that the waves scarcely play upon the sands; and how the heavens smile when morning comes forth, amidst roseate and white flowers, adorned in a golden veil, and moving along on sapphire wheels. "When the earth is happy," he says, "she laughs; and the heavens laugh when they are gay: but neither can smile so sweetly and gracefully as you.' The flowing measure, the admirable selection and position of the words render this and other similar poems models of lyrical composition. A fairy-like colouring, and a thrilling sweetness, like the scent of flowers, invest them, and render them peculiar in their aerial vivacity and spirited flow.

These lighter and more animated productions have not been translated; but, as a specimen of his more serious style, we select one of the epitaphs or elegiac poems among those which Mr. Wordsworth has translated, with his usual accuracy and force of diction:

There never breathed a man who, when his life
Was closing, might not of that life relate
Toils long and hard. The warrior will report
Of wounds, and bright swords flashing in the field,
And blast of trumpets. He, who hath been doom'd
To bow his forehead in the court of kings,
Will tell of fraud and never-ceasing hate,
Envy, and heart-inquietude, derived
From intricate cabals of treacherous friends.
I, who on shipboard lived from earliest youth,
Could represent the countenance horrible
Of the vexed waters, and the indignant rage
Of Auster and Boötes. Forty years
Over the well-steer'd galleys did I rule:
From huge Pelorus to the Atlantic pillars,
Rises no mountain to mine eyes unknown;
And the broad gulphs I traversed oft and oft;
Of every cloud which in the heavens might stir
I knew the force; and hence the rough sea's pride
Avail'd not to my vessel's overthrow.

What noble pomp, and frequent, have not I
On regal decks beheld! Yet in the end
I learn that one poor moment can suffice
To equalise the lofty and the low.
We sail the sea of life-a calm one finds,
And one a tempest-and, the voyage o'er,
Death is the quiet haven of us all.*

The tranquil life of Chiabrera was agreeably varied by his love, not exactly of travelling, but of visiting the various cities of Italy, and by the honours paid him by its princes, in recompence for his poetry, which was enthusiastically admired by all his countrymen. He never made any long stay away from home, except at Genoa and Florence, and there he possessed friends who were glad to welcome him; for if he was of an irascible, he was of a placable disposition, and though serious of aspect, he was gay and good-humoured in society. The grand duke of Tuscany, Ferdinand I., held him in high esteem, and employed him in arranging various dramatic representations on the marriage of Mary de' Medici with the king of France. Charles Emanuel, duke of Savoy, made him generous offers of remuneration, if he would take up his abode at his court; but Chiabrera wisely preferred his independence. It has

Per il Signor Giambattista Feo.
Uomo non è, che pervenuto a morte
Non possa raccontar della sua vita
Lunghi travagli. Il cavalier di Marte
Dirà le piaghe, e lo splendor de' brandi,
Ed il suon delle trombe: il condennato,
Nelle gran Reggie, ad inchinar la fronte,
De' Re scettrati, narrerà le frodi,
Le lunghe invidie, ed i sofferti affanni
Infra le schiere de' bugiardi amici.
Io, che mi vissi in su spalmate prore,
Potrei rappresentar l' orribil faccia
Del mar irato, ed i rabbiosi sdegni
E d'Austro e di Boöte. Anni cinquanta
Commandai su galere a buon nocchieri:
Dal gran Peloro all' Atlantei colonne
Non sorge monte a gli occhi miei non noto,
E gli ampj golfi veleggiai più volte :
D'ogni nube, che in ciel fosse raccolta,
Seppi la forza, onde marino orgoglio
A'legni miei non valse fare oltraggio.
Che nobil pompa non mirai sovente
Su regie poppe? E pure io provo al fine,
Che le disuguaglianze un' ora adegua.
Tutti quaggiuso navighiamo in forse.

Altri ha tempesta, ed altri ha calma, e poscia
Nel porto della Morte ognun dà fondo,