Stanci già di mirar, non sazio ancora by Petrarch
Stanci già di mirar, non sazio ancora by Petrarch

Stanci già di mirar, non sazio ancora

Petrarch * Track #87 On The Sonnets, Triumphs, and Other Poems of Petrarch

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Album The Sonnets, Triumphs, and Other Poems of Petrarch

Stanci già di mirar, non sazio ancora by Petrarch

Performed by
Petrarch

Stanci già di mirar, non sazio ancora Annotated

Wearied, not satisfied, with much delight,
Now here, now there, I turn'd my greedy sight,
And many things I view'd: to write were long,
The time is short, great store of passions throng
Within my breast; when lo, a lovely pair,
Join'd hand in hand, who kindly talking were,
Drew my attention that way: their attire
And foreign language quicken'd my desire
Of further knowledge, which I soon might gain.
My kind interpreter did all explain.
When both I knew, I boldly then drew near;
He loved our country, though she made it fear.
"O Masinissa! I adjure thee by
Great Scipio, and her who from thine eye
Drew manly tears," said I; "let it not be
A trouble, what I must demand of thee."
He look'd, and said: "I first desire to know
Your name and quality; for well you show
Y' have heard the combat in my wounded soul,
When Love did Friendship, Friendship Love control."
"I am not worth your knowledge, my poor flame
Gives little light," said I: "your royal fame
Sets hearts on fire, that never see your face:
But, pray you, say; are you two led in peace
By him?"—(I show'd their guide)—"Your history
Deserves record: it seemeth strange to me,
That faith and cruelty should come so near."
He said: "Thine own expressions witness bear,
Thou know'st enough, yet I will all relate
To thee; 't will somewhat ease my heavy state.
On that brave man my heart was fix'd so much,
That Lælius' love to him could be but such;
Where'er his colours marchèd, I was nigh,
And Fortune did attend with victory:
Yet still his merit call'd for more than she
Could give, or any else deserve but he.
When to the West the Roman eagles came
Myself was also there, and caught a flame,
A purer never burnt in lover's breast:
But such a joy could not be long possess'd!
Our nuptial knot, alas! he soon untied,
Who had more power than all the world beside.
He cared not for our sighs; and though 't be true
That he divided us, his worth I knew:
He must be blind that cannot see the sun,
But by strict justice Love is quite undone:
Counsel from such a friend gave such a stroke
To love, it almost split, as on a rock:
For as my father I his wrath did fear,
And as a son he in my love was dear;
Brothers in age we were, him I obey'd,
But with a troubled soul and look dismay'd:
Thus my dear half had an untimely death,
She prized her freedom far above her breath;
And I th' unhappy instrument was made;
Such force th' intreaty and intreater had!
I rather chose myself than him t' offend,
And sent the poison brought her to her end:
With what sad thoughts I know, and she'll confess
And you, if you have sense of love, may guess;
No heir she left me, but my tedious moan;
And though in her my hopes and joys were gone,
She was of lower value than my faith!
But now farewell, and try if this troop hath
Another wonder; for the time is less
Than is the task." I pitied their distress,
Whose short joy ended in so sharp a woe:
My soft heart melted. As they onward go,
"This youth for his part, I perhaps could love,"
She said; "but nothing can my mind remove
From hatred of the nation." He replied,
"Good Sophonisba, you may leave this pride;
Your city hath by us been three times beat,
The last of which, you know, we laid it flat."
"Pray use these words t' another, not to me,"
Said she; "if Africk mournèd, Italy
Needs not rejoice; search your records, and there
See what you gainèd by the Punic war."
He that was friend to both, without reply
A little smiling, vanish'd from mine eye
Amongst the crowd. As one in doubtful way
At every step looks round, and fears to stray
(Care stops his journey), so the varied store
Of lovers stay'd me, to examine more,
And try what kind of fire burnt every breast:
When on my left hand strayèd from the rest
Was one, whose look express'd a ready mind
In seeking what he joy'd, yet shamed to find;
He freely gave away his dearest wife
(A new-found way to save a lover's life);
She, though she joy'd, yet blushèd at the change.
As they recounted their affections strange,
And for their Syria mourn'd; I took the way
Of these three ghosts, who seem'd their course to stay
And take another path: the first I held
And bid him turn; he started, and beheld
Me with a troubled look, hearing my tongue
Was Roman, such a pause he made as sprung
From some deep thought; then spake as if inspired,
For to my wish, he told what I desired
To know: "Seleucus is," said he, "my name,
This is Antiochus my son, whose fame
Hath reach'd your ear; he warrèd much with Rome,
But reason oft by power is overcome.
This woman, once my wife, doth now belong
To him; I gave her, and it was no wrong
In our religion; it stay'd his death,
Threaten'd by Love; Stratonica she hath
To name: so now we may enjoy one state,
And our fast friendship shall outlast all date.
She from her height was willing to descend;
I quit my joy; he rather chose his end
Than our offence; and in his prime had died,
Had not the wise Physician been our guide;
Silence in love o'ercame his vital part;
His love was force, his silence virtuous art.
A father's tender care made me agree
To this strange change." This said, he turn'd from me,
As changing his design, with such a pace,
Ere I could take my leave, he had quit the place
After the ghost was carried from mine eye,
Amazedly I walk'd; nor could untie
My mind from his sad story; till my friend
Admonish'd me, and said, "You must not lend
Attention thus to everything you meet;
You know the number's great, and time is fleet."
More naked prisoners this triumph had
Than Xerxes soldiers in his army led:
And stretchèd further than my sight could reach;
Of several countries, and of differing speech.
One of a thousand were not known to me,
Yet might those few make a large history.
Perseus was one; and well you know the way
How he was catchèd by Andromeda:
She was a lovely brownet, black her hair
And eyes. Narcissus, too, the foolish fair,
Who for his own love did himself destroy;
He had so much, he nothing could enjoy.
And she, who for his loss, deep sorrow's slave.
Changed to a voice, dwells in a hollow cave.
Iphis was there, who hasted his own fate,
He loved another, but himself did hate;
And many more condemn'd like woes to prove,
Whose life was made a curse by hapless love.
Some modern lovers in my mind remain,
But those to reckon here were needless pain:
The two, whose constant loves for ever last,
On whom the winds wait while they build their nest;
For halcyon days poor labouring sailors please.
And in rough winter calm the boisterous seas.
Far off the thoughtful Æsacus, in quest
Of his Hesperia, finds a rocky rest,
Then diveth in the floods, then mounts i' th' air;
And she who stole old Nisus' purple hair
His cruel daughter, I observed to fly:
Swift Atalanta ran for victory,
But three gold apples, and a lovely face,
Slack'd her quick paces, till she lost the race;
She brought Hippomanes along, and joy'd
That he, as others, had not been destroyed,
But of the victory could singly boast.
I saw amidst the vain and fabulous host,
Fair Galatea lean'd on Acis' breast;
Rude Polyphemus' noise disturbs their rest.
Glaucus alone swims through the dangerous seas,
And missing her who should his fancy please,
Curseth the cruel's Love transform'd her shape.
Canens laments that Picus could not 'scape
The dire enchantress; he in Italy
Was once a king, now a pied bird; for she
Who made him such, changed not his clothes nor name,
His princely habit still appears the same.
Egeria, while she wept, became a well:
Scylla (a horrid rock by Circe's spell)
Hath made infamous the Sicilian strand.
Next, she who holdeth in her trembling hand
A guilty knife, her right hand writ her name.
Pygmalion next, with his live mistress came.
Sweet Aganippe, and Castalia have
A thousand more; all there sung by the brave
And deathless poets, on their fair banks placed;
Cydippe by an apple fool'd at last.

Anna Hume.

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