IV. THE "SAD DITTY" BORN OF THE STORY OF ISABELLA. AFTER many fruitless efforts to find, by enquiry among Italian scholars in England, the poem alluded to by Boccaccio at the close of the Story of Isabella, I have had the good fortune to come upon it through the kindness of Miss Violet Paget of Florence, who has obtained for me at the same time some interesting details from Professor Comparetti. This high authority believes that the song is no longer sung in Sicily; but it recurs, it seems, as a very favourite song, in medieval manuscript and printed collections of popular poetry, and even in Tuscany with certain Sicilian expressions. As sung in Tuscany with its Sicilian ancestry thus stamped upon it, it was so popular that one frequently meets, at the head of medieval and renaissance songs, the formula "The air is that of the Basil Pot song." The poem was printed in Florence before the middle of the sixteenth century in a collection of Canzoni, and is quoted in Alessandro d'Ancona's Storia della Poesia Popolare Italiana; but the text I have found it easiest to refer to is that given in a modern edition of Boccaccio, namely Il Decameron di Messer Giovanni Boccacci Riscontrato co' migliori testi e postillato da Pietro Fanfani (Firenze, Successori Le Monnier, 1880). In the first volume of this handy and very learnedly edited two-volume edition, at pages 348-9, occurs the following note to the closing verses in the Tale of Isabella Quale esso fu lo mal cristiano Che mi furò la grasca &c. Grasca. È voce siciliana, e vale ciò che sopra è detto testo, cioè Vaso da fiori. Leggasi l'annotazione LXVI dei Deputati. Anche l'edizione del 1527 ha grasca. Questi due versi poi sono variatissimi ne' varj codici. Qui sarà buono recare tutta intera la Canzone siciliana che allora andava attorno; e la recherò secondo che si legge nel cod. 38, plut. 42, della Laurenziana, scritto in sullo scorcio del secolo XIV. Altri, se la troverà in altri codici, potrà migliorarne la lezione. Fanfani's note reads as follows in English :-" Grasca. This is a Sicilian word, equivalent to what is above called testo, i.e. flowerpot. See note LXVI of the Deputati Edition. The Edition of 1527 has also grasca; but the two verses cited vary widely in various manuscripts. It may be well to reproduce here, in its entirety, the Sicilian song referred to, which was then current; and I print it as it occurs in Cod. 38, Plut. 42, of the Laurentian [Library], which dates from about the end of the fourteenth century. I leave it to others, who may find it in other manuscripts, to better the text." Other Editions read "grasta"; and this is certainly the better reading, as in the text of the song quoted by Fanfani, the word is written "resta" on each of the four occasions of its occurrence, namely in lines 2, 11, 32 and 49. See also Florio's World of Words, voce grasta. One of the Italian editors of Boccaccio derives the word from the (old) Provençal engrestara ; but its true derivation is rather (through the Sicilian) from the Arabic word (a garden that one waters, i.e., therefore, a small one). This word, gherseh, in the objective case (on which Latin adaptations of Arabic words are generally founded) gherseta, pronounced rrerseta in Africa and Spain, whence came the Saracenic invaders of the ninth century, would be easily corrupted by the Sicilians into grasta, gresta or resta; and it may be noted, in further confirmation of this derivation, that the flower-pot spoken of in the song is no small ordinary VOL. II. 00 Questo fu lo malo cristiano Che mi furò la resta Del bassilico mio selemontano. Ed io lo mi chiantai colla mia mano. Fu lo giorno della festa. Chi guasta l'altrui cose è villania. E grandissimo il peccato: Ed io, la meschinella, ch' i' m'avia Tant' era bella, all' ombra mi dormia. Fummi furata, e davanti alla porta. Dolorosa ne' fu' assai : Ed io la meschinella, or fosse io morta! E pur l'altrier ch' i' n'ebbi mala scorta Dal messer cui tanto amai, Tutto lo 'ntorniai di maggiorana. Tutto lo 'ntorniai di maggiorana: Fu di maggio lo bel mese; Tre volte lo 'nnaffiai la settimana; Sed s'io davanti l'avessi saputo 25 one, but a great vase or tub, something like an orange-tree tub, large enough to hold a flowering shrub or tree, that grew so thick as to shade the heroine during her sleep (see line 12), and to afford room for a quantity of marjoram (see line 21) besides,-in fact, to all intents and purposes, a miniature garden or gherseh. Che mi dovesse incontrare, 30 Davanti all' uscio mi sare' dormita Per la mia resta guardare: Se fusse suo piacimento, 35 Dell'uomo che m'è stato tanto rio. Chè m'ha furato il bassilico mio E la mattino quando lo 'nnaffiava Tutta la gente si maravigliava : Onde vien cotanto aulore? 40 45 Ed io per lo suo amor morrò di doglia. Ed io per lo suo amor morrò di doglia, Per amor della resta mia: Fosse chi la mi rinsegnar voglia, Volentier la raccatteria: Cent' once d' oro ch' i' ho nella fonda Volentier glile doneria ; E doneriegli un bascio in disianza. 50 My friend Mr. John Payne has been kind enough to add to his admirable version of the Story the following beautiful rendering of the poem. Not to mention the pathetic poem Salvestra from Boccaccio published in 1880 (New Poems, pages 193 to 275), Mr. Payne's complete success in giving us an English version of the Poems of Francis Villon, and in the still more difficult task of translating the whole body of Arabic verse found in the Book of the Thousand and One Nights, leaves no doubt about his being as fit a poet as possible to complete thus the "compliment to Boccaccio" paid so long ago by Keats and Reynolds. Alack! ah who could the ill Christian be, That stole my pot away, My pot of basil of Salern, from me? 'Twas thriv'n with many a spray And I with mine own hand did plant the tree, Even on the festal1 day. 'Tis felony to waste another's ware. 'Tis felony to waste another's ware; Yea, and right grievous sin. 5 And I, poor lass, that sowed myself whilere 10 A pot with flowers therein, Slept in its shade, so great it was and fair. But folk, that envious bin, Stole it away even from my very door. 'Twas stolen away even from my very door. Full heavy was my cheer, 15 (Ah, luckless maid, would I had died tofore!) Yet kept one day, through him whom I adore, Ill ward upon my gear. I planted it with marjoram about. I planted it with marjoram about, When May was blithe and new ; Yea, thrice I watered it, week in, week out, But now, for sure, away from me 'tis ta'en. 1 Quære-natal?—perhaps meaning her birthday. 2 Perhaps bought. 20 25 |