“So che andar diritto mi bisogna, Ch’ io non ci mescolassi una bugia, Che questa non e storia da menzogna; Che come in esco un passo de la via,

Chi gracchia, chi riprende, e chi rampogna:  Ognun poi mi riesce la pazzia;

Tanto ch’ eletto ho solitaria vita, Che la turba di questi e infinita.

La mia Accademia un tempo, o mia Ginnasia, E stata volentier ne’ miei boschetti; E puossi ben veder l’ Affrica e l’ Asia:  Vengon le Ninfe con lor canestretti, E portanmi o narciso o colocasia; E cosi fuggo mille urban dispetti:  Si ch’ io non torno a’ vostri Areopaghi, Gente pur sempre di mal dicer vaghi.

I know I ought to make no dereliction From the straight path to this side or to that; I know the story I relate’s no fiction, And that the moment that I quit some flat, Folks are all puff, and blame, and contradiction, And swear I never know what I’d be at; In short, such crowds, I find, can mend one’s poem, I live retired, on purpose not to know ’em.

Yes, gentlemen, my only ‘Academe,’ My sole ‘Gymnasium,’ are my woods and bowers; Of Afric and of Asia there I dream; And the Nymphs bring me baskets full of flowers, Arums, and sweet narcissus from the stream; And thus my Muse escapeth your town-hours And town-disdains; and I eschew your bites, Judges of books, grim Areopagites.”

He is here jesting, as Foscolo has observed, on the academy instituted by Lorenzo for encouraging the Greek language, doubtless with the laughing approbation of the founder, who was sometimes not a little troubled himself with the squabbles of his literati.

Our author probably had good reason to call his illustrious friend his “refuge.”  The Morgante Maggiore, the work which has rendered the name of Pulci renowned, was an attempt to elevate the popular and homely narrative poetry chanted in the streets into the dignity of a production that should last.  The age was in a state of transition on all points.  The dogmatic authority of the schoolmen in matters of religion, which prevailed in the time of Dante, had come to nought before the advance of knowledge in general, and the indifference of the court of Rome.  The Council of Trent, as Crescimbeni advised the critics, had not then settled what Christendom was to believe; and men, provided they complied with forms, and admitted certain main articles, were allowed to think, and even in great measure talk, as they pleased.  The lovers of the Platonic philosophy took the opportunity of exalting some of its dreams to an influence, which at one time was supposed to threaten Christianity itself, and which in fact had already succeeded in affecting Christian theology to an extent which the scorners of Paganism little suspect.  Most of these Hellenists pushed their admiration of Greek literature to an excess.  They were opposed by the Virgilian predilections of Pulci’s friend, Politian, who had nevertheless universality enough to sympathise with the delight the other took in their native Tuscan,