Modern Italian Poets; Essays and Versions

by William Dean Howells

O wretched scorn! from which alone I sing,
Thou weariest and saddenest my soul!
O butterfly that joyest on thy wing,
Pausing from bloom to bloom, without a goal—
And thou, that singing of love for evermore,
Fond nightingale! from wood to wood dost go,
My life is as a never-ending war
Of doubts, when likened to the peace ye know,
And wears what seems a smile and is
a throe!

There is another famous poem of Giusti's in quite a different mood. It is called “Instructions to an Emissary”, sent down into Italy to excite a revolution, and give Austria a pretext for interference, and the supposed speaker is an Austrian minister. It is done with excellent sarcasm, and it is useful as light upon a state of things which, whether it existed wholly in fact or partly in the suspicion of the Italians, is equally interesting and curious. The poem was written in 1847, when the Italians were everywhere aspiring to a national independence and self-government, and their rulers were conceding privileges while secretly leaguing with Austria to continue the old order of an Italy divided among many small tyrants. The reader will readily believe that my English is not as good as the Italian.

INSTRUCTIONS TO AN EMISSARY.
You will go into Italy; you have here
Your passport and your letters of exchange;
You travel as a count, it would appear,
Going for pleasure and a little change;
Once there, you play the rodomont, the queer
Crack-brain good fellow, idle gamester, strange
Spendthrift and madcap. Give yourself full swing;
People are taken with that kind of thing.
When you behold—and it will happen so—
The birds flock down about the net, be wary;
Talk from a warm and open heart, and show
Yourself with everybody bold and merry.
The North's a dungeon, say, a waste of snow,
The very house and home of January,
Compared with that fair garden of the earth,
Beautiful, free, and full of life and mirth.
And throwing in your discourse this word free,
Just to fill up, and as by accident,
Look round among your listeners, and see
If it has had at all the effect you meant;
Beat a retreat if it fails, carelessly
Talking of this and that; but in the event
Some one is taken with it, never fear,
Push boldly forward, for the road is clear.
Be bold and shrewd; and do not be too quick,
As some are, and plunge headlong on your prey
When, if the snare shall happen not to stick,
Your uproar frightens all the rest away;
To take your hare by carriage is the trick;
Make a wide circle, do not mind delay;
Experiment and work in silence; scheme
With that wise prudence that shall folly seem.

The minister bids the emissary, “Turn me into a jest; say I'm sleepy and begin to dote; invent what lies you will, I give you carte-bianche.”

Of governments down yonder say this, too,
At the cafés and theaters; indeed
For this, I've made a little sign for you
Upon your passport that the wise will read
For an express command to let you do
Whatever you think best, and take no heed.

Then the emissary is instructed to make himself center of the party of extremes, and in different companies to pity the country, to laugh at moderate progress as a sham, and to say that the concessions of the local governments are merely ruses to pacify and delude the people,—as in great part they were, though Giusti and his party did not believe so. The instructions to the emissary conclude with the charge to

Scatter republican ideas, and say
That all the rich and all the well-to-do
Use common people hardly better, nay,
Worse, than their dogs; and add some hard words, too:
Declare that bread's the question of the day,
And that the communists alone are true;
And that the foes of the agrarian cause
Waste more than half of all by wicked laws.

Then, he tells him, when the storm begins to blow, and the pockets of the people feel its effect, and the mob grows hungry, to contrive that there shall be some sort of outbreak, with a bit of pillage,—

So that the kings down there, pushed to the wall,
For congresses and bayonets shall call.
If you should have occasion to spend, spend,
The money won't be wasted; there must be
Policemen in retirement, spies without end,
Shameless and penniless; buy, you are free.
If destiny should be so much your friend
That you could shake a throne or two for me,
Pour me out treasures. I shall be content;
My gains will be at least seven cent, per cent.
Or, in the event the inconstant goddess frown,
Let me know instantly when you are caught;
A thunderbolt shall burst upon your crown,
And you become a martyr on the spot.
As minister I turn all upside down,
Our government disowns you as it ought.
And so the cake is turned upon the fire,
And we can use you next as we desire.
In order not to awaken any fear
In the post-office, 't is my plan that you
Shall always correspond with liberals here;
Don't doubt but I shall hear of all you do.
...'s a Republican known far and near;
I haven't another spy that's half as true!
You understand, and I need say no more;
Lucky for you if you get me up a war!

We get the flavor of this, at least the literary flavor, the satire, and the irony, but it inevitably falls somewhat cold upon us, because it had its origin in a condition of things which, though historical, are so opposed to all our own experience that they are hard to be imagined. Yet we can fancy the effect such a poem must have had, at the time when it was written, upon a people who felt in the midst of their aspirations some disturbing element from without, and believed this to be espionage and Austrian interference. If the poem had also to be passed about secretly from one hand to another, its enjoyment must have been still keener; but strip it of all these costly and melancholy advantages, and it is still a piece of subtle and polished satire.