Formerly there were a few who highly valued the ennobling study of letters. Today their number is sadly diminished, and I predict that shortly they will have disappeared entirely.141 It is best to abide with these few as eagerly as may be, and pray do not for one instant harbor the thought of exchanging our stream for any larger channel. Thou art no mere mariner, nor fisherman; nay, if the report be true (and I would it were false) thy intercourse with that tribe was none too auspicious.142 The small Castalian fount and the low and humble Helicon once did give thee pleasure. May our Arno and our hills be as fortunate, where noble intellects abound like the gushing waters of the hills and where the sweetly singing nightingales build their nests. These are few indeed, I confess; but to repeat, if thou surveyest the land far and near, they will appear relatively many. Outside of these few singers what dost thou hope to find in our population except fullers, weavers, and smiths? Not to mention impostors, whom wilt thou come upon except publicans, thieves of various kinds, thousands of frauds and cheats, hostile factions that never hesitate to resort to deceitful means, the anxious avaricious and their vain struggles, and the rank scum that pursues the mechanical trades? Among such as these thou must needs endure all scoffing with unruffled brow, as an eagle among the night-owls, as a lion among apes. In their presence thou must repeat what Ennius, greatly thy inferior, once said: “I flit about in life on the lips of (learned) men.”143 Let the lips of the untaught continue to disclose their ignorance and utter vain gossip. Let them remain in ignorance of thee and thy works, or, knowing, let them revile. Praise from such lips would be blasphemy indeed.
I come now to myself, so that, being the least in intellect and in years, I may also form the last topic of my letter. In thy adversity thou dost beg me to come to thy aid. Oh, cruel and inexorable fate! In succoring so great a man as thou I could forever boast of a better claim to glory than any I have yet attained or hope to attain. I call Christ to witness — a God to thee unknown — that there is absolutely nothing which I can offer for thy relief except affectionate, tender pity and loyal advice. What assistance, indeed, can be received from one who can do nothing for himself? Hast thou not heard that even thy followers were reviled out of hatred for thy name, and that they were judged insane by an assembly of insane? If this could happen in thine own age and in Athens, most cultured of cities, what dost thou suppose will be the case today with other poets in cities entirely devoted to the pursuit of pleasure? I am one of those at whom the vulgar and the ignorant aim their shafts. I am astonished and wonder why it is so. If only I had given cause for some justifiable hatred! But it matters not how just the cause may or may not have been; the reality of their hatred is undeniable. And is it on my bosom, then, that thou wouldst seek refuge? Oh, insensate turn of fortune’s wheel! No palace could be sufficiently spacious and resplendent for thee, Homer, if great intellects were to strive for such material honors as fortune can bestow. But not so: genius spurns the turrets and castles of the ignorant, and delights in the lonely and lowly hut. For my part, although I do not consider myself worthy of so great a guest, I have already harbored thee at my home both in Greek and (as far as it was possible) in Latin.144 I trust to have thee entire before long, provided thy Thessalian will complete what he has begun.145 Know, however, that thou art to be received in an even more sacred inclosure: I have made preparations to welcome thee with the greatest eagerness and devotion to the innermost recesses of my heart. In a word, my love for thee is greater and warmer than the rays of the sun, and my esteem such that no one could cherish a greater.
This is all I have been able to offer thee, leader and father. Any attempt to free thee from the scorn of the rabble would result in detracting from thy singular and peculiar praise. Moreover, it is a task beyond my powers and those of any other, except perhaps of that man who will have sufficient strength to curb the passions of the mob. And although God has such power, He has not exerted it in the past, nor do I think He is likely to do so hereafter.
I have spoken at great length as if thou wert present. Emerging now from those very vivid flights of the imagination, I realize how very far removed thou art, and I fear lest it may be annoying to thee to read so lengthy a letter in the dim light of the lower world. I reassure myself when I remember that also thy letter was long.
Farewell forever. And when thou wilt have returned to thy seat of honor, pray give kindly greetings to Orpheus, Linus, Euripides, and the rest.
Written in the world above, in that city lying between the famous rivers Po, Ticino, Adda, and others, whence some say Milan derives its name, on the ninth of October in the thirteen hundred and sixtieth year of this last era.
Notes on Fam., XXIV, 12, to Homer
109. The man who taught Petrarch the elements of Greek was Bernardo Barlaamo, theologian, mathematician, astronomer, and philosopher. This learned Italian monk was born at Seminara, Calabria Ulteriore, and entered the Roman Catholic monastery of St. Basil. From Calabria he journeyed to Aetolia, afterward studied at Thessalonica (at that time a center of learning), and finally (1327 or 1328) went to Constantinople, the better to learn Greek and thus be able to read Aristotle in the original. He at once became a member of the Greek church, and in 1331 was appointed Abbot of the Convent of St. Salvator at Constantinople. He was protected by Andronicus III (Palaeologus, 1328-41), who in 1339 sent him to Avignon on a diplomatic mission to Pope Benedict XII, endeavoring to bring about the union of the two churches in common cause against the Turks. In this mission Barlaamo was unsuccessful. Returning to Greece, he attacked the Hesychasts (or Quietists) of Mt. Athos, and became involved with Gregory Palamas (afterward archbishop of Thessalonica) on the question of the light which had been manifested to the disciples on Mt. Tabor at the Transfiguration. At a synod held at Constantinople in 1341, the Hesychasts defended themselves so ably that Barlaamo was condemned. Since his protector was now dead, he was compelled to flee into Italy.
He at once re-entered the Roman church and was made librarian by King Robert. In 1342 he revisited Avignon on a second mission, and it is on this occasion that he must have made the acquaintance of Petrarch (P. de Nolhac, II, ), who during the summer of 1342 received from him daily instruction in Greek — whether at Avignon or at Vaucluse is not clear. At the end of the summer Petrarch had made but small progress. Still he added his recommendation to those of others when Pope Clement VI nominated Barlaamo bishop of Gerace, a town in Calabria sixty miles northeast of Reggio. He was consecrated bishop at Avignon on October 2, 1342, and thereafter left for Gerace, dying in that town six years later, in 1348.
In conclusion, then, the first seeds of Greek in the West were sown by a learned, ambitious Calabrian monk, who (to use a modern expression) went abroad to complete his education, committed apostasy to further his ambition, repeating the act fourteen years later when defeated in a religious controversy; a man who, though born in Italy, was more Greek than Roman (to the extent of almost forgetting his Latin), who never had entertained the remotest idea of being a teacher of Greek, and who cared very little for the humble pupil offered him by chance at Avignon — the enthusiastic poet and scholar who had received the Laurel Crown at Rome the year before, and who was destined to become known to future generations as the “first modern scholar.”
110. A reference to the translation of the Odyssey made by Livius Andronicus, and to the Epitome of the Iliad, which is now attributed to Silius Italicus, but which in the Middle Ages was known as the Homerus Latinus and later as the Pindarus Thebanus (see n. 113).
111. The allusion is to Leonzio Pilato, who claimed to be a pupil of Barlaamo. The place of his birth is uncertain, owing to the peculiar character of the man. He was never content with his actual position and surroundings. In consequence, when in Italy he disdained and reviled the Italians and things Italian, and declared himself a native of Thessalonica — as if (comments Petrarch) it were more honorable to be of Greek than of Italian origin. Similarly, when in Greece he could not find anyone or anything praiseworthy in
the Eastern Empire and in Byzantium, but boasted of his Calabrian origin. The probability is that he was born in Calabria. The date is unknown.
Authorities differ as the to year when Leonzio became acquainted with Petrarch (see n. 114). Accordingly, the long-bearded adventurer is said to have met Petrarch at Padua during the winter of 1358-59. The poet immediately grasped the opportunity of having him translate some passages from the manuscript of Homer which had been sent to him by Sigero in 1354 (P. de Nolhac, II, ). In March, 1359, Petrarch received a visit at Milan from Boccaccio, and may have introduced Leonzio to him (Koerting, Boccaccio, ). Doubtless Petrarch told him of his recent acquaintance (P. de Nolhac, ibid., ), and showed him the specimen translations from the Iliad which had been made in the winter just passed (ibid., , and n. 112 below). Leonzio, it appears, had in the meantime roved to Venice, where the anxious Boccaccio overtook him (Koerting, op. cit., ). Shortly afterward Leonzio declared his intention of leaving for Avignon in search of fortune. But so desirous was Boccaccio of learning Greek, and so eager, therefore, to have him near at hand, that he prevailed upon the Calabrian to visit Florence, which city they reached together in the early part of 1360; for in August of that year Leonzio had already been some time at Florence (Koerting, ibid.). There Boccaccio gave him lodging at his own home, and exerted all his influence to have him appointed professor at the Studio Fiorentino. His efforts were crowned with success, for the Republic decided to pay Leonzio an annual stipend in return for his services, which were to consist in giving public lectures on the works of Homer. Thus was established the first chair of Greek in the West, and Leonzio Pilato, adventurer though he was, has the honor of being the first professor of the Greek language and literature in a western university. He held the newly established chair of Greek from 1360 to 1363. During three years, from the summer of 1359 to November, 1361 (Koerting, op. cit., ), the author of the Decameron and the other two Florentine friends of Homer alluded to by Petrarch took private lessons of Leonzio with great eagerness, and we can readily picture them in Boccaccio’s library, sitting at the feet of the Calabrian and drinking “the muddy stream of pseudo-learning and lies that flowed from this man’s lips, with insatiable avidity” (J. A. Symonds, The Revival of Learning, , ed. 1898).
It goes without saying that Petrarch was kept duly informed by Boccaccio of affairs at Florence. The question of translating Homer was of course uppermost in the minds of both these early humanists, and it was broached the moment Pilato became established at the university. Strange to relate, a good manuscript of Homer was not to be had at Florence, and even Leonzio does not seem to have had one in his possession. Boccaccio, however, had been told that there was such a manuscript for sale at Padua, and so wrote to Petrarch requesting him to procure it. Petrarch promised to do so, adding that if the Paduan volume slipped through their hands, he would be happy to place at Leonzio’s disposal the copy sent to him in 1354 by Sigero. And here it is best to listen to the words of Petrarch himself on the subject. In a letter dated at Milan, August 18, 1360 (Var., 25), he says:
I now come to the last point — namely, that if (as you seem to think) I have bought the copy of Homer which was for sale at Padua, I should please to lend it to you. You reason that I possess another copy of old, and that you would entrust the new copy to our Leonzio to have him translate it from the Greek into Latin for the benefit of yourself and our other studious fellow-countrymen. I examined that copy, but did not give it a second thought because it was clearly inferior to mine. It may still be easily obtained through him who made me acquainted with that same Leonzio. Leonzio’s letters will surely have great weight with him, and I shall write to him also. If the Paduan volume slips through our hands (which, however, I do not think likely) then mine will be at your service. I have always been very eager for translations of all the Greek authors, but of that one author in particular. Had Fate smiled more kindly upon me when I entered upon the student’s career, and had not death so untimely overtaken my illustrious teacher, I should today, perhaps, have something more than a rudimentary knowledge of Greek. You may count upon me in your undertaking. Indeed, I grieve and am indignant at the loss of that ancient translation (the work of Cicero, as far as we can judge), the beginning of which Horace inserted in his poem on the Ars Poetica (vss. 141, 142). I can scarcely endure this neglect of the more truly precious things when I observe the eager pursuit of our age for those things that are low and base. But what am I to do? I must needs endure it. If proper care and diligence on the part of foreigners can in any way make amends for our own disregard, may the Muses and Apollo prosper their undertakings. Believe me, I could receive no more valuable nor acceptable merchandise either from the Chinese, or the Arabs, or from the shores of the Red Sea. Do not be shocked — I know what I am saying. I am fully aware that the nominative case I employed for the expression “acceptable merchandise” (“merx gratior”) is not in common use with our grammarians. In the ancient writers, however, it is common. I do not mean merely those earlier authors, in whose footsteps the ignorant ones of today hesitate to follow. I have in mind those authors who are very near to us in time, but who in learning and intellect are vastly our superiors, men from whose merits the vain chattering and the blind pride of our age have not yet dared to detract. It is in these authors, I say, that the nominative case is found; and since the name occurs to me, I shall add that it is to be found in Horace. Let us, therefore, bring it again into good repute, if we can, and let us dare to recall from unworthy exile a word which has been banished from the domains of that tongue to the study of which we devote all our energies.
I should like to clear my conscience on one point, lest at some future day I may repent of having kept silent. You tell me that the translation will be a prose one and that it will also be very literal. If this be so, pray give due attention to the following passage from St. Jerome. I shall quote his exact words, because he had an intimate knowledge of both Latin and Greek, and was especially skilled in the art of translation. In the preamble to his Latin version of the De temporibus (a work by Eusebius of Caesarea), St. Jerome says; “If there is anyone who does not believe that the grace of the original is lost in translation, let him endeavor to translate Homer into Latin literally. I shall say more: let him translate Homer into the prose of his own vernacular, and he will recognize that the order of the words has rendered his translation ridiculous and that he has made the most eloquent and vigorous of poets of none effect.” I have ventured to give you this warning now, that no labor nor time may be wasted. And yet, I greatly desire the thing done, no matter how. So ardently do I long to become acquainted with noble works that, as in the case of a famishing man, I do not insist on the art of a chef. I await therefrom with great expectations food for the soul. Some time ago Leonzio himself made for me a short translation, into Latin prose, of the beginning of Homer, which gave me a taste of the character of the whole work. The lines gave me pleasure even though they were proof of St. Jerome’s assertion. After all, you see, they retained their hidden power to please; like unto certain rich foods which should be served in gelatine, but in which the efforts of the cook have not been crowned with success. The form may have been destroyed, but the taste and the odor do not perish.
Let Leonzio therefore persevere in his undertaking, and with the help of God may he restore to us Homer, who, as far as we are concerned, is a lost author. As regards the other Greek authors, may Heaven assist him in his labors. Both of you ask that I send you the volume of Plato which I managed to rescue from the fire of my transalpine retreat. Your zeal is most commendable and you will receive the volume in good time. You may rely upon it, no obstacle to your noble undertakings will ever be interposed by me. Be very careful, however, of one thing: do not commit the serious error of gathering within the covers of one and the same volume these two great princes of Greek thought. The weight of two such intellects would be too great for human shoulders to bear. Let Leonzio commence his task with the help of God; and of the two authors he h
as chosen to translate, let him begin with him who wrote so many centuries earlier. Farewell.
The Paduan volume must after all have gotten into Boccaccio’s hands, for we know that Petrarch retained his own copy while Leonzio was engaged on the translation. Furthermore, from the date of the present letter addressed to Homer, October 9, 1360, we gather that Leonzio must have begun his task at least as early as October, 1360. From this date to 1363 he was occupied in translating both the Iliad and the Odyssey, a translation which Fracassetti (Vol. 4, p, 97) and P. de Nolhac (II, p-63) argue was made at Petrarch’s expense. As to its merits it may be said that, like the one of Livius Andronicus, it was roughly made and was almost verbatim. The charlatan professor, it appears, knew but little of either Greek or Latin; and only on the score of relative knowledge and ignorance can we explain the implicit confidence placed in him by Boccaccio and by Petrarch. (For the opening lines of the Iliad and the Odyssey as translated by Leonzio, with references, consult Voigt, II, , n. 4, and J. A. Symonds, Revival, , ed. 1898.)
112. We have already seen that when Leonzio Pilato met Petrarch at Padua in the winter of 1358-59, the latter had him translate several portions of Homer (see n. 111, par. 2). It is to this translation that Petrarch here alludes (P. de Nolhac, II, , n. 2), for there is no evidence that Pilato sent him any specimens of the translations done at Florence (cf. Voigt, II, ). Consequently, this too must be the allusion in the sentence occurring shortly below, “The Greek flavor has recently been enjoyed by me from a Latin flagon,” and in the passage from Var. 25 (quoted in n. 111), “Some time ago Leonzio himself made for me a short translation, into Latin prose, of the beginning of Homer, which gave me a taste of the character of the whole work.”
Collected Poetical Works of Francesco Petrarch Page 63
