The Elegy of Lady Fiammetta by Giovanni Boccaccio--Delphi Classics (Illustrated) by Giovanni Boccaccio

Author:Giovanni Boccaccio [BOCCACCIO, GIOVANNI]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Parts Edition 6 of 12 by Delphi Classics
Publisher: Delphi Classics (Parts Edition)
Published: 2017-12-24T00:00:00+00:00

Oh, how dear a thing was this to my cars, as well for him that spake it as for them that attentively gave ear unto it, and also for my Citizen’s sake of whom it was spoken. So much truly, that the remembrance thereof is yet very grateful unto me. Of our young Princes, whose heroical countenances bewrayed their hardy and courageous minds, he was wont to say that one was like to Arcadius of Parthenope, of whom it is reported, and firmly believed, that none came better appointed and more resolute to the destruction of Thebes, at what time his mother sent him thither, being but a young youth. The next after he confessed to be like the sweet Ascanius, of whom Virgil (a singular record of so brave a youth) wrote so many golden verses. Comparing the third to Deiphobus, and the fourth for beauty to Ganymede.

Then coming to those of riper age, that followed these, he gave them no less perfect and pleasant semblances. For there might you see one coming along with a ruddy colour and a red beard, and with soft, bushy and crisped locks falling down upon his strong and flightly shoulders, and (no otherwise than Hercules was wont to have) bound up with a fine little garland of green leaves, apparelled with costly garments of silk, occupying no more room than the just quantity of his body, garnished with sundry brave works wrought with skilful hand, with a Mantle upon his right shoulder, fastened together with a button of Gold, and with a fair and rich shield covering his left side, and carrying in his right hand a light spear, as was most fit for that sport, whom he said that he was in gesture, and countenance, like to great Hector. After whom another coming along, adorned in like Habits, and with as stout a countenance as the other, having cast up the golden fringed border of his Mantle upon his shoulder, with his left hand cunningly managed his unruly horse, he judged another Achilles. Another following him, shaking his threatening Lance, and carrying his target behind his back, having his soft hair tied together with a fine veil (given him perhaps of his Lady) he called Protesilaus. After whom another following with a fine Hat on his head, of a brown colour in his face, and with a long beard, and of a fierce countenance, he called Pyrrhus.

And another after him with a more mild look, and with a sweet and smooth face, and more gorgeously adorned than the rest, he thought to resemble Paris of Troy, or King Menelaus.

What need I prolong my narration about this royal rank any further. In brief, as they passed in that long and goodly company, he showed who was like to Agamemnon, who to Ajax, who to Ulysses, who to Diomedes, or to any other Grecian, Trojan or Latin worthy of eternal praise and memory. Neither did he give them these names merely of his

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