I. Antonio Count of Urbino, mentioned above at pp. [36-8]. To him is ascribed a sonnet on Christ crucified, in a MS. of the Divina Commedia, at the royal library of Naples, and published in vol. II., p. 361, of the Giornale Arcadico of Rome, 1819. It is No. [I.] of our specimens, and but for its imputed authorship, might probably have remained unnoticed.

II. Malatesta de' Malatesti, or, as he was more frequently designated, de' Sonnetti, was Seigneur of Pesaro, and second cousin of Sigismondo Pandolfo, Lord of Rimini. He was born in 1370, and died in 1429, leaving the reputation of an elegant poet. Several of his fugitive effusions are referred to by Crescimbeni, III., 225, who has printed one of his sonnets. Our selections are two others, Nos. [II.], [III.], moralising on the vanity and disappointments of life, from the Oliveriana MSS. No. 454, ff. 30, 31, and part of a canzone, No. [IV.], describing the charms of his love, from Vat. Urb. MSS. No. 3212, f. 128. His son married,

III. Battista di Montefeltro, daughter of Count Antonio, and aunt of Duke Federigo of Urbino. We have spoken of her above at [p. 39], and insert two sonnets from her pen, addressed to Malatesta, Nos. [V.], [VI.], the former an invocation of the Holy Ghost, the latter deprecating her own presumptuous spirit; also, No. [VII.], her letter to Pope Martin V., referred to at [p. 40]. A canzone, addressed by her to the princes of Italy in a fine tone of expostulation, will be found in Crescimbeni, III., 266. Her granddaughter, Costanza Varana, married, in 1445,

IV. Alessandro Sforza, Lord of Pesaro, who has been often mentioned in our [Second Book], and to whom is ascribed the sonnet No. [VIII.] below. He was father of Battista, second wife of Duke Federigo of Urbino, and of

V. Costanzo, his successor in Pesaro, author of the [last sonnet] in this collection. Both of these lyrics have been given by Crescimbeni, V., 223-4.

I.

I sacri piedi, e l'una e l'altra palma
Ti furo in croce, o Re del Ciel, confitti.
Gl'invisibil nimici ivi sconfitti,
E franto il giogo, e sposta la gran salma.
D'esiglio librasti la prim' alma,
E gli altri che con lei eran proscritti:
Oggi purgasti i suoi primi delitti,
Che me intendesser l'aula eterna ed alma.
Quella pietà che in tal giorno ti mosse
A salvar tutto 'l mondo, anco ti mova
Verso un'altr' alma combattuta e vinta.
Fragili e debil son le umane posse:
A grandi assalti prostata si trova
Se non è l'alma di tua grazia cinta.

II.

El tempo, el quale è nostro, i' ho smarrito
In vanitade, ho speso ogni mia sorte;
Seguito ho il mondo, traditor si forte,
Che giusta cosa è, ch'i' ne sia punito.
Di fumo e vento i' fui già ben formito,
Et ora per ristor chieggio la morte,
E la prosperità chiuso ha le porte;
Ingrato trovo ogn'uom' ch'i' ho servito.
Or sia che vuole, i' sono al fin pur giunto,
Intricato, et perplexo in tanto errore,
Ch'i' vorrei ogni giorno esser defunto.
O tu che leggi, pensa qual dolore
Esser de' il mio, veggendomi in un punto
Povero, infermo, vecchio e peccatore.