University of Virginia Library

SCENE VIII.

[Enter (right) a number of young boys dressed like angels, and carrying large open baskets.]
FIRST CHILD.
Good folks! good folks! Bring out your Vanities!
We are collecting them for Carnival.

SECOND CHILD.
Bring out your Vanities, that they may burn,
Pictures, and books, and love-songs, naughty tales,
And poems, worst of all.

THIRD CHILD.
Quick, bring them out,
That we may make a bonfire of the leaves,
And dance around their ashes.

FIRST CHILD.
Vanities!
Who has more Vanities?

[Men and women come out of the houses, bearing books, pictures, and other objects, and give them to the children.]
FIRST CITIZEN.
A wicked book.
'Tis the Decamerone, written by
Boccaccio of Certaldo. Better burnt!
Twice I have read it through, and I were fain
My wife did not.

SECOND CITIZEN.
A wise precaution, friend.
I have two copies, and perhaps 'twere well
That one should burn. The other will I keep,
To make quite sure its fellow did deserve
Not to survive.

FIRST CHILD.
Vanities! Vanities!
Fetch out your Vanities!

THIRD CITIZEN.
Here! Take you this:
The Enchiridion, translated by
Poliziano in the Latin tongue.
I cannot read it; but my confessor
Declares 'tis full of wickedness.

FOURTH CITIZEN.
Here's a prize:
Antonio Panhormita's famous work,
Hermaphroditus, and along with it,
Poggio's Facetiæ rather past a joke.
You're welcome to 't.

[Flings it into the basket of one of the children.]
FIFTH CITIZEN.
Who sent you here to cry
Your wares beneath our windows all day long?

SECOND CHILD.
Savonarola sends us, sir, to beg,
And not to buy; to beg the Devil's works,
And so give alms to Christ.

THIRD CHILD.
And we are trained
By Frà Domenico of Pescia,
Who loves the Prior of Saint Mark almost
As Frà Girolamo loves Christ Himself.

ALL THE CHILDREN.
Vanities! Vanities! Ransack your Vanities!

SIXTH CITIZEN.
All Pico's Works, and all Politian's.
They are too learned for me; but I daresay
They are as thick with wrong as a dark wood
With thieves and ghosts.

SEVENTH CITIZEN.
Now mark you, never say
I made no sacrifice. I paid for these
Five florins on the nail. See, they contain
Luigi Pulci's poems; first there comes
Morgante Maggiore; next—but well,
I will not say what next; but burn them all.
What have you there?

[To another Citizen, who brings out a bundle of books. All crowd round him.]
EIGHTH CITIZEN.
“Selve d' Amore,” by Lorenzo's self.
“Canzoni a ballo.”

SEVENTH CITIZEN.
Why, you never mean
To give up those? They are such merry lays,
The dumb would sing them, and the lame would dance,
Hearing their cadence.

[A book falls to the ground. The sixth Citizen picks it up.]
SIXTH CITIZEN.
What have we got here?
Canti Carnascialeschi! O, I say,
These must not be destroyed. Full half of them
Are great Lorenzo's, written in his prime.
They sing themselves, as rippling waters do,
And foot it as they sing. I mind me well
Treading a jocund round when I was young
To more than one of these. Ha! Here it is!
Ben venga Maggio.
[Shuts the book, and hands it back.]
Ah! May comes no more
To one whose leaves are half upon the ground,
One half upon the branches, soon to fall!

CHILDREN
Vanities! Vanities! Any more Vanities?
Bring them and pile them up, that we may search
Their wickedness with fire.
[The boys pass across the stage and exeunt (left). At the same time enter (right) young girls, clad in white, and, like the boys, carrying open crates and baskets.]

FIRST GIRL.
Vanities! Vanities! Bring out your Vanities!
Rouge-pots and scented girdles, spices, gums,
Snares of the Evil One!

SECOND GIRL.
Ferret them out,
Unguents and patches, tresses false, and tricks
Of meretricious beauty, specious dyes,
Henna, vermilion, all of them Vanities.
Give them all up!

[Women come out of the houses, and put into the baskets pots, boxes, and caskets.]
THIRD GIRL.
Where are your books of dreams,
Your amorous astrology, your cards
Of wicked conjuring, your secret store
Of light love-ditties, all of them Vanities!

[Grosso's Wife emerges from a house, carrying books.]
ANITA.
Here they are, girls! I want no more of them;
Love-ditties by the score. When I was young,
My Grosso used to flute them all night long
Under my casement, while I listening sate
Behind the lattice, and conceived no harm.
They sounded very sweet. But I must own,
Now I am riper, when I hear them trilled
To budding maids at midnight, that they sound
Wrong, very wrong.

FIRST GIRL.
Vanities! Vanities!
Give up your curls, your counterfeits, your lures,
Love-philtres, and your Lydian potions mixed
By alchemists of Hell!

[All the time women keep bringing out objects which they deposit in the baskets.]
ANITA.
Wait just a bit,
And I will fetch you such a hecatomb,
It ought to buy me Heaven.

[Re-enters the house from which she came.]
SECOND GIRL.
Give up your drugs,
Intoxicating perfumes, subtle scents,
That lull the soul to slumber and arouse
The sleeping senses in their swinish sty,
And make them nose for garbage. Give them all up:
Lascivious fripperies, corsets, and the bait
Of perforated sandals!

[Anita returns, carrying long rolls of paper.]
ANITA.
Here they are!
To whom shall I entrust them?

[A Girl holds out her hand for them.]
ANITA.
Mind you, child,
You must not look at them, not even peep;
They are so shocking.

[She unrolls one of them, and hurriedly rolls it up again, putting her hand before her eyes.]
ANITA.
Oh! too terrible!
Shameless as the originals, and nude
E'en as at birth or death! Take special care
Not one of them escapes the virtuous flames.
How could he sketch such things? But having caused
Those to be shrivelled, surely I may keep
One little box of ointments? Is it wrong
To put spring roses upon autumn cheeks,
To keep a husband faithful?

FIRST GIRL.
Vanities!
Have all your Vanities been yielded up?
If not, bring out, bring out, more Vanities,
Till none be left.

ANITA.
I tell you what I'll do:—
Give them the robe I bought for Carnival
The year Lorenzo died. 'T has ne'er been worn,
Nor will be now, too gorgeous for the times.
I'll fetch it straight.

[She turns to go for it, then halts, and hesitates.]
ANITA.
No! stay! I'll have it dyed.

[Exit into her house.]
ALL THE GIRLS.
Vanities! Vanities! Bring out your Vanities!
All of your Vanities bring out to burn.

[As they say this they pass away from the stage, some right, some left. The scene rises, and changes to the Piazza of the Signoria.]