175 Burningly it came on me all at once, This was the place! those two hills on the right, Crouched like two bulls locked horn in horn in fight; While to the left, a tall scalped mountain ... Dunce, Fool, to be dozing at the very nonce, After a life spent training for the sight! 180 What in the midst lay but the Tower itself? The round squat turret, blind as the fool's heart, Built of brown stone, without a counterpart In the whole world. The tempest's mocking elf Points to the shipman thus the unseen shelf 185 Where sportive ladies leave their doors ajar? Whatever rat, there, haps on his wrong hole, Aha, you know your betters? Then, you'll take Your hand away that 's fiddling on my throat, And please to know me likewise. Who am I? Why, one, sir, who is lodging with a friend 15 Three streets off he's a certain . . . how You know them and they take you? like enough! I saw the proper twinkle in your eye "Tell you, I liked your looks at very first. Let's sit and set things straight now, hip to haunch. Here's spring come, and the nights one makes up bands 5 To roam the town and sing out carnival, 45 If Master Cosimo announced himself, On fig skins, melon-parings, rinds and shucks, (Its fellow was a stinger as I knew) And so along the wall, over the bridge, 90 I did renounce the world, its pride and greed, Palace, farm, villa, shop and banking-house, Trash, such as these poor devils of Medici 100 Have given their hearts to all at eight years old. Well, sir, I found in time, you may be sure, 'T was not for nothing - the good bellyful. The warm serge and the rope that goes all round, And day-long blessèd idleness beside! 105 'Let's see what the urchin 's fit for' - that came next. Not overmuch their way, I must confess. Such a to-do! they tried me with their books. Lord, they'd have taught me Latin in pure And can't fare worse! Thus, yellow does for white When what you put for yellow's simply black, And any sort of meaning looks intense When all beside itself means and looks nought. Why can't a painter lift each foot in turn, 205 Left foot and right foot, go a double step, Make his flesh liker and his soul more like, Both in their order? Take the prettiest face, The Prior's niece . . . patron-saint - is it so pretty You can't discover if it means hope, fear, 210 Sorrow or joy? won't beauty go with these? Suppose I've made her eyes all right and blue, drop 275 His name is Guidi - he'll not mind the monks They call him Hulking Tom, he lets them talk He picks my practice up - he'll paint apace, I hope so though I never live so long, I know what's sure to follow. You be judge! 280 You speak no Latin more than I, belike— However, you're my man, you've seen the world -The beauty and the wonder and the power, The shapes of things, their colours, lights and shades, Changes, surprises, and God made it all! 285 For what? do you feel thankful, ay or no, For this fair town's face, yonder river's line, The mountain round it and the sky above, Much more the figures of man, woman, child, These are the frame to? What's it all about? 290 To be passed over, despised? or dwelt upon, |