 | Art and Fashion |  |
73
GIULIO ROMANO.
Scene—Giulio in the Hall of Constantine, steadfastly regarding Raffaelle's picture of “Justice and Mercy.” To him enter Donatini and Francesco.GIULIO.
Now, Donatini, what's the latest news?
DONATINI.
Cardinal Tortoso has been chosen Pope,
And with new title fills the papal chair.
GIULIO.
Adrian the Sixth—the news is six hours old!
DONATINI.
Adrian the Sixth—and further, in your ear
Let it be whisper'd,—Angelo's recall'd!
GIULIO.
Recall'd! That's news, and welcome news to Art.
74
You fear no rival, Raffaelle being dead:
Others, less lib'ral, perchance had thought
Bad news, and most unwelcome.
GIULIO.
Rival, no!
Art hath no rival, save unrivall'd Nature:
Each gifted mind is a new strength to Art;
New wealth, new capital; and weak is he
Who dreads a brother greater than himself.
He knows not Art, nor Art's exalted aim.
FRANCESCO.
What is the aim of Art?
GIULIO.
It is to teach
Through power of beauty the eternal power!
It is to feel our own humanity
Enlarge with Science, to evolve out of
The perishable the imperishable!
'Tis to give feature to imagination,
Set clear the visionary forms of fancy,
Make shadows real, hold the fleeting fast!
To snatch the spark that can illuminate.
75
By this we must conceive you designate
The highest order of Inventive Art;—
Nature hath other schools and colleges,
Other degrees and honours.—Is't not so?
GIULIO.
Reigns, customs, manners change, but not so man:
The spirit of the old humanity
Invigorates the new; Man changes more
In symbol than in essence;—and the thoughts
That thrill'd Apelles in long ages back
Thrill Grecian breasts e'en now; and to the end
The grandeur and the majesty of Art
Shall wake grand thoughts, and Truth and Justice
Keep their primal state and regal dignity.
FRANCESCO.
To follow up this subject. It would seem
Art, in its highest form, hath province here
But second to religion—that is, to raise
And spiritualise our nature!—thus—
GIULIO.
Time hath made pictures altars! they've received
The homage vouchsafed to divinity:
It is the soul's prerogative to soar!
76
When he created man: as it is nature
In the earth to feel the influence of spring,
So is it nature in the soul to feel
The influence of Art.
DONATINI.
Thought all like you
It might be well.
GIULIO.
Who's the true patriot,
He who sets himself above his country,
Or he who, for that country's sake, would see
Self, power, possession—everything—forgot;
And, scorning death, with his last effort cry,
Make way for Rome, ye nations?—so with Art.
DONATINI.
Give me your hand—right nobly said, Romano.
Less self, less thought of self, less show of self,
More thought of that which teaches love of all;
More love of that which teaches thought for all.
GIULIO.
Ah! who so just, unenvious; who so kind
As noble Raffaelle? Oft I've heard him say,
“Thank God I breathe the air of Angelo!”
77
Will see no spot more precious to his thought,
More touching to his heart, than the dear earth
Which wraps the form of Santi Raffaelle.
FRANCESCO.
From what dire circumstance arose the fact
That Michael, that great mark and pride of Rome,
Was forced to visit Pietra? 'Twas most strange!
GIULIO.
Leo the Tenth, whose brief pontificate
Made a new era in the world of Art,
On his accession to the papal throne
Profess'd regard for Michael Angelo;
Love for his fame, and zeal for his success;
Desired his genius for his native city;
And Angelo, as if foreboding ill,
Reluctantly obey'd the Pontiff's call.
FRANCESCO.
'Tis true; but thence to Florence order'd, forth
To build, of Saint Lorenzo, the façade.
GIULIO.
What follow'd next? 'Tis known throughout the realm,
Instead of the façade—unfinish'd yet
Since the old Cosmo time—instead of this,
78
He, Michael Angelo, the soul of Art,
Was straight dismiss'd to Pietra, to decide
Between the quarries of the mountains there
And the pure marble of Carrara—thus
For eight long toilsome years he fashion'd blocks,
Constructed roads o'er marshes to the sea,
Travell'd with rafts and fascines! Believ'st thou?
He—Rome's great architect and ornament,
True Painter, Poet, Sculptor—left to toil
Like common mason—a mere blank in life;
His time consumed—his glorious talents lost
During the whole, hard reign of Leo Tenth?
DONATINI.
It mocks belief!—myriads, as yet unborn,
Will read, yet doubt; and ask, can this be true
Which wars 'gainst sense?
GIULIO.
You saw me gazing here
On Justice and on Mercy!—shadows both:
They have no living semblances on earth!
To think of eight years in such labour spent!
79
A loss no Pope of Rome may e'er compute:
A loss posterity will long deplore!
GIULIO.
Years, generations, empires and their crowns,
Follow each other to the end of time:
All things of earth are reproduced by earth;
Genius hath no successor!—knows no heir!—
Angelo dead—what centuries could replace
The grand old spirit of that master-mind?
Angelo living—any puny power
May cramp and fetter. Rome! it makes me mad
To think of Michael and Pietra Santé.
DONATINI.
Go where ye will, this is the fate of Genius!
Ever the stream of life is full of turns
And rough impediments; to chafe at fate
Is but to sink the deeper.
GIULIO.
Sad as true,
The path of fame finds many a weary foot,
And aching head, and disappointed heart;
Many ascend, few reach the toilsome height!
80
Whate'er the Present owes the Future pays!
Towards the Pantheon let us hasten now.
GIULIO.
First meet we Angelo—conduct him there;
There, 'neath its cupola, survey the tomb
Of Raffaelle:—let Genius mourn for Genius;
A tear from Michael Angelo would soothe
That spirit, call'd too early from the world,
Too early from that sphere which he adorn'd.
DONATINI.
Too early, yes; too soon for Art! and yet
That is not Death which brings not death to fame:
He lives, who leaveth an immortal name.
[Exeunt.
| Art and Fashion | |