“Now the first, which consists in continuous talk, is of such sort as almost to amount to story-telling. And to give you an instance: just at the time when Pope Alexander the Sixth died and Pius the Third was created pope,[[193]] your fellow Mantuan, my lady Duchess, messer Antonio Agnello,[[194]] being at Rome and in the palace, happened to speak of the death of the one pope and of the other’s creation, and in discussing this with some of his friends, he said:

“‘My Lords, even in the days of Catullus[[195]] doors began to speak without a tongue and to listen without ears, and thus to reveal adulteries. Now, although men are not of such worth as they were in those times, it may be that the doors (many of which are made of antique marbles, at least here in Rome) have the same powers that they then had; and for my part I believe that these two here could clear away all our doubts if we cared to learn from them.’

“Then the gentlemen present were very curious, and waited to see how the affair was going to end. Whereupon messer Antonio, continuing to walk up and down, raised his eyes as if by chance to one of the two doors of the hall in which they were strolling, stopped a moment, and pointed out to his companions the inscription over it, which was the name of Pope Alexander, followed by a V and an I, signifying Sixth as you know; and he said:

“‘See what the door says: Alessandro Papa vi, which means that he became pope by the violence that he used, and that he accomplished more by violence than by reason. Now let us see if from the other we can learn anything about the new pope.’ And turning to the other door as if by accident, he showed the inscription, N PP V, which signified Nicolaus Papa Quintus;[[196]] and he at once said: ‘Alas, bad news; this one says, Nihil Papa Valet.’

POPE ALEXANDER VI
RODERIGO LENZUOLI (BORGIA)
1431-1503

Reduced from Alinari’s photograph (no. 17412) of a part of the fresco, “The Resurrection,” in the Borgian Apartments in the Vatican, by Bernardino di Betto di Biagio, better known as Pinturicchio, (1454-1513).

49.—“Now you see how elegant and admirable this kind of pleasantry is, and how becoming to a Courtier, whether the thing that is said be true or not; because in such a case it is allowable for a man to fabricate as much as he pleases, without blame; and in speaking the truth, to adorn it with a little falsity, overstating or understating as the occasion requires. But in these matters perfect grace and true cleverness consist in picturing forth what we wish to say, with both word and gesture, so well and with such ease that they who hear may seem to see before their eyes the thing we tell them. And this graphic method is so effective that it sometimes adorns and makes highly amusing a thing that in itself is neither very jocular nor clever.

“And although this kind of narrative requires gesture and the aid of the speaking voice, its quality is sometimes found in written compositions also. Who does not laugh, when, in the Eighth Day of his Decameron,[[197]] Giovanni Boccaccio tells how the priest of Varlungo tried to chant a Kyrie and a Sanctus on discovering that his Belcolore was in the church. There are amusing narratives also in his stories of Calandrino,[[198]] and in many others. Of the same sort seems to be the raising of a laugh by mimicry or imitation, as we say,—wherein I have thus far seen no one more admirable than our friend messer Roberto da Bari.”[[48]]

50.—“This would be no small praise,” said messer Roberto, “if it were true; because I should of course try to imitate the good rather than the bad, and if I could make myself like some men I know, I should deem myself very fortunate. I fear, however, that I know how to imitate only those things which excite laughter, and which you just now said consist essentially in the imperfect.”