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poetry, has here been bestowed on these poets for the first time.

That there are many defects in these translations, or that the above merit is their defect, or that they have no merits but only defects, are discoveries so sure to be made if necessary (or perhaps here and there in any case), that I may safely leave them in other hands. The collection has probably a wider scope than some readers might look for, and includes now and then (though I believe in rare instances) matter which may not meet with universal approval; and whose introduction, needed as it is by the literary aim of my work, is I know inconsistent with the principles of pretty bookmaking. My wish has been to give a full and truthful view of early Italian poetry; not to make it appear to consist only of certain elements to the exclusion of others equally belonging to it.

Of the difficulties I have had to encounter,-the causes of imperfections for which I have no other excuse, it is the reader's best privilege to remain ignorant; but I may perhaps be pardoned for briefly referring to such among these as concern the exigencies of translation. The task of the translator (and with all humility be it spoken) is one of some self-denial. Often would he avail himself of any special grace of his own idiom and epoch, if only his will belonged to him: often would some cadence serve him but for his author's structure-some structure but for his author's cadence: often the beautiful

turn of a stanza must be weakened to adopt some rhyme which will tally, and he sees the poet revelling in abundance of language where himself is scantily supplied. Now he would slight the matter for the music, and now the music for the matter; but no, he must deal to each alike. Sometimes too a flaw in the work galls him, and he would fain remove it, doing for the poet that which his age denied him; but no,—it is not in the bond. His path is like that of Aladdin through the enchanted vaults: many are the precious fruits and flowers which he must pass by unheeded in search for the lamp alone; happy if at last, when brought to light, it does not prove that his old lamp has been exchanged for a new one,— glittering indeed to the eye, but scarcely of the same virtue nor with the same genius at its summons.

In relinquishing this work (which, small as it is, is the only contribution I expect to make to our English knowledge of old Italy), I feel, as it were, divided from my youth. The first associations I have are connected with my father's devoted studies, which, from his own point of view, have done so much towards the general investigation of Dante's writings. Thus, in those early days, all around me partook of the influence of the great Florentine; till, from viewing it as a natural element, I also, growing older, was drawn within the circle. I trust that

from this the reader may place more confidence in a work not carelessly undertaken, though produced in the spare-time of other pursuits more closely followed.

He should perhaps be told that it has occupied the leisure moments of not a few years; thus affording, often at long intervals, every opportunity for consideration and revision; and that on the score of care, at least, he has no need to mistrust it.

Nevertheless, I know there is no great stir to be made by launching afresh, on high-seas busy with new traffic, the ships which have been long outstripped and the ensigns which are grown strange. The feeling of self-doubt inseparable from such an attempt has been admirably expressed by a great living poet, in words which may be applied exactly to my humbler position, though relating in his case to a work all his own.

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Still, what if I approach the august sphere Named now with only one name,—disentwine That under current soft and argentine

From its fierce mate in the majestic mass

Leaven❜d as the sea whose fire was mix'd with glass
In John's transcendent vision,-launch once more
That lustre ? Dante, pacer of the shore

Where glutted Hell disgorges filthiest gloom,
Unbitten by its whirring sulphur-spume—

Or whence the grieved and obscure waters slope
Into a darkness quieted by hope-
Plucker of amaranths grown beneath God's eye
In gracious twilights where His chosen lie,—
I would do this! If I should falter now!...."

(Sordello, by ROBERT BROWNING, B. 1.)

It may be well to conclude this short preface with a list of the works which have chiefly contributed to the materials of the present volume.

I. Poeti del primo secolo della Lingua Italiana. 2 vol. (Firenze. 1816.)

II. Raccolta di Rime antiche Toscane. 4 vol. (Palermo. 1817.)

III. Manuale della Letteratura del primo Secolo. del Prof. V. Nannucci. 3 vol. (Firenze. 1843.)

IV. Poesie Italiane inedite di dugento autori: raccolte da Francesco Trucchi. 4 vol. (Prato. 1846.)*

V. Opere Minori di Dante. Edizione di P. I. Fraticelli. (Firenze. 1843, &c.)

VI. Rime di Guido Cavalcanti; raccolte da A. Cicciaporci. (Firenze. 1813.)

VII. Vita e Poesie di Messer Cino da Pistoia. Edizione di S. Ciampi. (Pisa. 1813.) VIII. Documenti d'Amore; di Francesco da Barberino. Annotati da F. Ubaldini. (Roma. 1640.)

IX. Del Reggimento e dei Costumi delle Donne; di Francesco da Barberino. (Roma. 1815.)

X. Il Dittamondo di Fazio degli Uberti. (Milano. 1826.)

* This work contains, in its first and second volumes, by far the best edited collection I know of early Italian poetry. Unfortunately it is only a supplement to the previous ones, giving poems till then unpublished. A reprint of the whole mass by the same editor, with such revision and further additions as he could give it, would be very desirable.

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