Chapter 10

Britannia! thou art queen of the ocean, but all great Neptune's ocean can not wash from thee the stain that the dead Emperor bequeathed thee on his deathbed. Not that windbag Sir Hudson, but thou thyself wast the Sicilian sbirro whom the allied sovereigns suborned to avenge in secret on the man of the people what the people had once done openly to one of thy sovereigns. And he was thy guest, and had seated himself at thy hearth.

To the end of all time the boys of France will talk and sing of the fell hospitality of the _Bellerophon_, and when their songs of bitter mockery are heard across the Channel the cheeks of all honorable Britons will blush with shame. But a day will come when this song will be wafted across the Straits, but not to Britain; the British nation is humbled in the dust, the tombs of the abbey are in ruins, the royal ashes they hold are forgotten; and St. Helena is the Holy Sepulcher to which the peoples of the East and of the West make pilgrimages in scarfed barks, and comfort their hearts with the great memories of the savior of the world who suffered under Hudson Lowe, as it is written in the gospels of Las Casas, of O'Meara, and of Autommarchi.

Strange, the three greatest adversaries of the Emperor have already found an awful fate. Londonderry cut his throat; Louis XVIII rotted on his throne; and Professor Sealfeld is still professor at Göttingen.

ITALY

1254-1803

MARCO POLO

Born in Venice in 1254, died in 1324; his father and uncle mercantile men whom he accompanied in 1271, when seventeen years of age, on a journey to Central Asia by way of Bagdad, and thence to the court of Kublai Khan; in 1275 entered the public service of Kublai Khan and was employed by him on important missions; left China in 1292, returning to Venice by way of India; at a battle between Venetians and Genoese, 1298, made a prisoner and confined for a year, during which he dictated in the French language to a fellow captive his book of travels; he and his father and uncle first-known Europeans to visit China.

A DESCRIPTION OF JAPAN[24]

Zipangu is an island in the Eastern Ocean, situated at the distance of about fifteen hundred miles[25] from the mainland, or coast of Manji. It is of considerable size; its inhabitants have fair complexions, are well made, and are civilized in their manners. Their religion is the worship of idols. They are independent of every foreign power, and governed only by their own kings. They have gold in the greatest abundance, its sources being inexhaustible, but, as the king does not allow of its being exported, few merchants visit the country, nor is it frequented by much shipping from other parts. To this circumstance we are to attribute the extraordinary richness of the sovereign's palace, according to what we are told by those who have access to the place. The entire roof is covered with a plating of gold, in the same manner as we cover houses, or more properly churches, with lead. The ceilings of the halls are of the same precious metal; many of the apartments have small tables of pure gold, of considerable thickness; and the windows have also golden ornaments. So vast, indeed, are the riches of the palace that it is impossible to convey an idea of them. In this island there are pearls also, in large quantities, of a red (pink) color, round in shape, and of great size, equal in value to, or even exceeding that of the white pearls. It is customary with one part of the inhabitants to bury their dead, and with another part to burn them. The former have a practise of putting one of these pearls into the mouth of the corpse. There are also found there a number of precious stones.

[Footnote 24: From the "Travels." The text of this, the most famous perhaps of all books of travel, has come down to us in an extremely corrupt state. Written as it was about 250 years before the invention of printing, innumerable copies in manuscript form were put into circulation, some in French, some in Italian, some in German and some in Latin. French is believed to be the language in which it originally was composed, but this has not been definitely proven. More than eighty copies in manuscript are still extant. A Latin version was printed in Basel in 1532. The first English translation appears to be one that was made by John Frampton, published in London in 1579. An English version by W. Marsden appeared in 1818.]

[Footnote 25: Chinese miles are here meant.]

Of so great celebrity was the wealth of this island that a desire was excited in the breast of the grand Khan Kublai, now reigning, to make the conquest of it and to annex it to his dominions. In order to effect this he fitted out a numerous fleet, and embarked a large body of troops, under the command of two of his principal officers, one of whom was named Abbacatan and the other Vonsancin. The expedition sailed from the ports of Zai-tun and Kin-sai [probably Amoy and Ningpo], and, crossing the intermediate sea, reached the island in safety; but in consequence of a jealousy that arose between the two commanders, one of whom treated the plans of the other with contempt and resisted the execution of his orders, they were unable to gain possession of any city or fortified place, with the exception of one only, which was carried by assault, the garrison having refused to surrender. Directions were given for putting the whole to the sword, and in obedience thereto the heads of all were cut off, excepting of eight persons, who, by the efficacy of a diabolical charm, consisting of a jewel or amulet introduced into the right arm between the skin and the flesh, were rendered secure from the effects of iron, either to kill or to wound. Upon this discovery being made, they were beaten with a heavy wooden club, and presently died.

It happened, after some time, that a north wind began to blow with great force, and the ships of the Tatars which lay near the shore of the island were driven foul of each other. It was determined, therefore, in a council of the officers on board, that they ought to disengage themselves from the land; and accordingly, as soon as the troops were reembarked, they stood out to sea. The gale, however, increased to so violent a degree that a number of the vessels foundered. The people belonging to them, by floating on pieces of the wreck, saved themselves upon an island lying about four miles from the coast of Zipangu. The other ships, which, not being so near to the land, did not suffer from the storm, and in which the two chiefs were embarked, together with the principal officers, or those whose rank entitled them to command a hundred thousand or ten thousand men, directed their course homeward, and returned to the grand khan. Those of the Tatars who remained upon the island where they were wrecked, and who amounted to about thirty thousand men, finding themselves left without shipping, abandoned by their leaders, and having neither arms nor provisions, expected nothing less than to become captives or to perish; especially as the island afforded no habitations where they could take shelter and refresh themselves. As soon as the gale ceased, and the sea became smooth and calm, the people from the main island of Zipangu came over with a large force, in numerous boats, in order to make prisoners of these shipwrecked Tatars and, having landed, proceeded in search of them, but in a straggling, disorderly manner. The Tatars, on their part, acted with prudent circumspection, and being concealed from view by some high land in the center of the island, while the enemy were hurrying in pursuit of them by one road, made a circuit of the coast by another, which brought them to the place where the fleet of boats was at anchor. Finding these all abandoned, but with their colors flying, they instantly seized them, and pushing off from the island, stood for the principal city of Zipangu, into which, from the appearance of the colors, they were suffered to enter unmolested. Here they found few of the inhabitants, besides women, whom they retained for their own use, and drove out all others.

When the King was apprized of what had taken place, he was much afflicted, and immediately gave directions for a strict blockade of the city, which was so effectual that not one person was permitted to enter or to escape from it during six months that the siege continued. At the expiration of this time, the Tatars, despairing of succor, surrendered upon the condition of their lives being spared. These events took place in the course of the year 1264 [properly 1284]. The grand khan, having learned some years after that the unfortunate issue of the expedition was to be attributed to the dissensions between the two commanders, caused the head of one of them to be cut off, and the other be sent to the savage island of Zorza, where it is the custom to execute criminals in the following manner. They are wrapt round both arms in the hide of a buffalo fresh taken from the beast, which is sewed tight. As this dries, it compresses the body to such a degree that the sufferer is incapable of moving or in any manner helping himself, and thus miserably perishes.

DANTE ALIGHIERI

Born in Florence in 1265, died in Ravenna in 1321; of an ancient family attached to the Guelph party; first saw Beatrice in his ninth year; married Gemma Donati two years after the death of Beatrice; fought with the Guelphs; entrusted with foreign missions; endeavored to reconcile Guelphs and Ghibellines; while on an embassy to Rome his house in Florence destroyed in a riot, and he condemned to exile; his life thenceforth one of wandering; settled in Ravenna in 1320, where he died a year later; all his works except "Vita Nuova" written in exile; his "Divine Comedy" in three parts written in 1300-18.

I

THAT LONG DESCENT MAKES NO MAN NOBLE[26]

Having confuted the errors of others in so far as they related to riches themselves we have to confute those on the subject of time as a cause of nobility, in that part where it is defined as ancient riches, and this is done in the part that begins, "Nor will they admit that a man lowly born a noble can become." And in the first place, this is refuted by an argument taken from the very people who are so mistaken; then to put them to greater confusion this, their argument, is destroyed; and this is done where it says, "And thus it comes from what I have said before." Finally it sums up--their error being evident, and it being, therefore, time to learn the truth--and this it does where it says, "Because to the healthy mind," etc.

[Footnote 26: From Book IV, Chapter XIV of "The Banquet." Translated by Katharine Hillard. "The Banquet" is the least known of Dante's prose writing. It is believed to have been written in his maturity, but was not completed. Dante's purpose appears to have been to produce a sort of hand-book, or commentary, on universal knowledge.]

I say then, "Nor will they admit that a man lowly born a noble can become." Here we must observe that it is the opinion of these mistaken ones that a man originally a peasant can never be called a nobleman, and a man who is the son of a peasant can likewise never be called noble. And here they contradict their own statement when they say that time is required for nobility, by putting in this word ancient (riches); because it is impossible by a process of time to arrive at the generation of nobility, by the reason of theirs here given, which denies that a man of low birth can become noble by anything he may do or by any accident; and denies the possibility of a change from a low-born father to a noble son. For if the son of a peasant be still a peasant his son also will be a peasant, and thus we can never find a point at which nobility can begin by process of time.

And if our opponent, wishing to defend himself, shall say that nobility begins at the moment when the low estate of our ancestors is forgotten, I answer that this tells against himself, because there must necessarily be a change here from the low estate to the noble, from one man to another, as from father to son, which is contrary to what they assert.

And if our opponent defends himself pertinaciously, saying that he maintains that the change may take place when the low estate of one's ancestors has fallen into oblivion, then altho the text takes no notice of this, it is fitting that the commentary should reply to it. And therefore I answer thus: that from what they say four great difficulties would follow, so that theirs can not be a good reason.

The first is that the better human nature might be the more difficult and the more tardy would be the generation of nobility, which is a great difficulty; since the better a thing is the more it is honored and the more good it causes; and nobility would be commemorated among the good things. And that this would be so is proved; for if rank or rather nobility (which is understood to be the same thing) is generated by oblivion, then the sooner men are forgotten the quicker is their nobility generated, for so much the sooner would nobility come for all. Therefore, the sooner men were forgotten, the sooner they would be ennobled, and, on the contrary, the better the memory of them the more tardy would be their nobility.

The second difficulty is that in no case except man's could such a distinction be made, that is, between noble and vile, which is a great difficulty. For in every kind of thing we see an appearance of nobility or of vileness, whence we often call one horse noble and one vile, or one falcon noble and one vile, or one pearl noble and one vile. And that this distinction could not be made is proved thus: If the forgetting of ignoble ancestors is a cause of nobility, where the ancestors never were ignoble there could be no oblivion, since oblivion is the destruction of memory. And in the said animals and plants and minerals degrees of higher and lower are not noted, because they spring from one nature and are of equal condition, and in their generation there can be nothing of nobility or the reverse, seeing that both extremes must be regarded as a possession or privation possible to the same subject; and, therefore, in them no such distinction can exist.

And if our opponent were to say that in other things nobility is understood to be the goodness therefore, but in man is understood as the forgetfulness of his low estate, one would like to answer not with words but with the knife to such stupidity as would give goodness to the cause of nobility in other things, but in man forgetfulness as its origin.

The third difficulty is that those generated would often come before the generation, which is quite impossible; and this may be demonstrated thus:

Let us suppose that Gherardo de Cammino was a grandson of the lowest peasant that ever drank of Sile or Cagnano, and that his grandfather were not yet buried in oblivion; who would dare to say that Gherardo de Cammino was not noble? And who would not agree with me in saying that he was noble? Certainly none, however presumptuous they may wish to be, because he was noble and such will his memory ever be. And if his ignoble ancestors had not been utterly forgotten (as our opponent asserts) and he had become noble and his nobility were as evident as we see it to be, then it would have existed in him before its generation had existed, and this is perfectly impossible.

The fourth difficulty is that such a man (as this supposed ancestor) would be considered noble, being dead, who was not noble when living; and a more impossible thing there could not be as may be demonstrated thus:

Let us suppose that in the age of Dardanus there remained a memory of his low-born ancestors, and let us suppose that in the age of Laomedon this memory had died out and oblivion taken its place. According to our opponent's opinion, Laomedon was noble, and Dardanus ignoble during life. Should we, to whom the memory of their ancestors (I mean beyond Dardanus) has not come down, should we say that Dardanus while alive was a common peasant, and dead became noble? And this is not contradicted by the story that he was the son of Jupiter (for this is a fable, of which, in a philosophical discussion, we should take no heed); and yet if our opponent should wish to fall back on the fable, certainly that which is covered by the fable would upset all his arguments.

And thus it is manifest that the argument of which who would make oblivion the cause of nobility is false and erroneous.

II

OF BEATRICE AND HER DEATH[27]

Nine times now, since my birth, the heaven of light had turned almost to the same point in its own gyration, when the glorious lady of my mind, who was called Beatrice by many who knew not why she was so called, first appeared before my eyes. She had already been in this life so long that in its course the starry heaven had moved toward the region of the East one of the twelve parts of a degree; so that at about the beginning of her ninth year she appeared to me, and I near the end of my ninth year saw her. She appeared to me clothed in a most noble color, a modest and becoming crimson, and she was girt and adorned in such wise as befitted her very youthful age....

[Footnote 27: From "The New Life." Translated by Charles Eliot Norton. Copyright, 1867, 1892, 1895, by Houghton Mifflin Company.]

From that time forward Love lorded it over my soul, which had been so speedily wedded to him: and he began to exercise over me such control and such lordship, through the power which my imagination gave to him, that it behooved me to do completely all his pleasure. He commanded me ofttimes that I should seek to see this youthful angel; so that I in my boyhood often went seeking her, and saw her of such noble and praiseworthy deportment that truly of her might be said that word of the poet Homer, "She seems not the daughter of mortal man, but of God." And tho her image, which stayed constantly with me, gave assurance to Love to hold lordship over me, yet it was of such noble virtue that it never suffered Love to rule me without the faithful counsel of the reason in those matters in which it was useful to hear such counsel. And since to dwell upon the passions and actions of such early youth seems like telling an idle tale, I will leave them, and, passing over many things which might be drawn from the original where these lie hidden, I will come to those words which are written in my memory under larger paragraphs.

When so many days had passed that nine years were exactly complete since the above-described apparition of this most gentle lady, on the last of these days it happened that this admirable lady appeared to me, clothed in purest white, between two gentle ladies, who were of greater age; and, passing along a street, she turned her eyes toward that place where I stood very timidly, and by her ineffable courtesy, which is to-day rewarded in the eternal world, saluted me with such virtue that it seemed to be then that I saw all the bounds of bliss.... And since it was the first time that her words came to my ears, I took in such sweetness that, as it were, intoxicated, I turned away from the folk, and betaking myself to the solitude of my own chamber, I sat myself down to think of this most courteous lady.

Then it came to pass that, walking on a road alongside of which was flowing a very clear stream, so great a desire to say somewhat in verse came upon me, that I began to consider the method I should observe; and I thought that to speak of her would not be becoming unless I were to speak to ladies in the second person; and not to every lady, but only to those who are gentle, and are not women merely. Then I say that my tongue spoke as if moved of its own accord, and said, Ladies that have the intelligence of Love. These words I laid up in my mind with great joy, thinking to take them for my beginning; wherefore then, having returned to the above-mentioned city, after some days of thought, I began a canzone with this beginning.

This most gentle lady came into such favor among the people that when she passed along the way, persons ran to see her; which gave me wonderful joy. And when she was near any one, such modesty came into his heart that he dared not raise his eyes, or return her salutation; and of this many, as having experienced it, could bear witness for me to whoso might not believe it. She, crowned and clothed with humility, took her way, showing no pride in that which she saw and heard. Many said, when she had passed: "This is not a woman; rather she is one of the most beautiful angels of heaven." And others said: "She is a marvel. Blest be the Lord who can work thus admirably!" I say that she showed herself so gentle and so full of all pleasantness that those who looked on her comprehended in themselves a pure and sweet delight, such as they could not after tell in words; nor was there any who might look upon her but that at first he needs must sigh. These and more admirable things proceeded from her admirably and with power. Wherefore I, thinking upon this, desiring to resume the style of her praise, resolved to say words in which I would set forth her admirable and excellent influences, to the end that not only those who might actually behold her, but also others should know of her whatever words could tell....

I was yet full of the design of this canzone, and had completed [one] stanza thereof, when the Lord of Justice called this most gentle one to glory, under the banner of that holy Queen Mary, whose name was ever spoken with greatest reverence by this blest Beatrice.

On that day on which the year was complete since this lady was made one of the denizens of life eternal, I was seated in a place where, having her in mind, I was drawing an angel upon certain tablets. And while I was drawing it, I turned my eyes and saw at my side men to whom it was meet to do honor. They were looking on what I did, and, as was afterward told me, they had been there already some time before I became aware of it. When I saw them I rose, and saluting them, said, "Another was just now with me, and on that account I was in thought." And when they had gone away, I returned to my work, namely, that of drawing figures of angels; and while doing this, a thought came to me of saying words in rime, as if for an anniversary poem of her, and of addressing those persons who had come to me.

After this, two gentle ladies sent to ask me to send them some of these rimed words of mine; wherefore I, thinking on their nobleness, resolved to send to them and to make a new thing which I would send to them with these, in order that I might fulfil their prayers with the more honor. And I devised then a sonnet which relates my condition, and I sent it to them....

After this a wonderful vision appeared to me, in which I saw things which made me resolve to speak no more of the blest one, until I could more worthily treat of her. And to attain to this, I study to the utmost of my power, as she truly knows. So that, if it shall please Him through whom all things live that my life be prolonged for some years, I hope to say of her what was never said of any woman.

And then may it please Him who is the Lord of Grace, that my soul may go to behold the glory of its lady, namely of that blest Beatrice, who in glory looks upon the face of Him _qui est per omnia sæcula benedictus_ [who is blest forever].

FRANCIS PETRARCH