The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture= 9780674062733

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The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture

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The Bernard Berenson Lectures on the Ital­ian Renaissance sponsored by villa i tatti har vard university center for italian renaissance studies f lorence, italy

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture

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CHAR L ES D EMPS EY

harvard university press cambridge, massachusetts london, england 2012

Copyright © 2012 by the President and Fellows of Harvard College All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America Library of Congress Cataloging-­in-­Publication Data Dempsey, Charles. The early Renaissance and vernacular culture / Charles Dempsey. p. cm.—(The Bernard Berenson lectures on the Ital­ian Renaissance) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-­0-­674-­04952-­9 (alk. paper) 1. Arts, Ital­ian.  2. Arts, Renaissance—Italy.  3. Arts and society—Italy.  I. Title. NX552.A1D45 2012 709.45—dc23    2011023475

Contents

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List of Illustrations  vii Acknowledgments  xi Introduction  1 1.  Courtly Lyric I simone martini, french courtly lyric, and the vernacular  9 2.  Courtly Lyric II sandro botticelli and poliziano: humanist learning and the vernacular  67 3.  Civic Ritual I cardinal orsini’s paintings and baccio baldini’s engravings of the sibyls: humanist learning and vernacular drama  117 4.  Civic Ritual II reconstructing the vernacular octaves with the prophecies of the twelve sibyls  207

Appendix cardinal orsini’s twelve sibyls and their prophecies in vernacular octaves reconstructed  269 Notes  317 Index  365

Illustrations 1. Benozzo Gozzoli, Horsetamer, metalpoint, gray-­black wash, heightened with white, on blue prepared paper, 359 × 246 mm, British Museum, London. (© The Trustees of the British Museum)  15 2. Giotto di Bondone, The Virgin’s Wedding Procession, fresco, north wall, Arena Chapel, Padua. (By kind permission of the Comune di ­Padova—Assessorato alla Cultura)  29 3. Sandro Botticelli, Primavera, tempera on wood, 203 × 314 cm, Uffizi, Florence. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)  33 4. Leonardo da Vinci, Ginevra de’ Benci (obverse), oil on panel, 42.7 × 37 cm, National Gallery of Art, Washington. (Ailsa Mellon Bruce Fund, image courtesy National Gallery of Art, Wash­ington)  37 5. Leonardo da Vinci, Ginevra de’ Benci (reverse), oil on panel, 42.7 × 37 cm, National Gallery of Art, Washington. (Ailsa Mellon Bruce Fund, image courtesy National Gallery of Art, Wash­ington)  39 6. Simone Martini, Maestà (detail), fresco, 763 × 970 cm, Palazzo Pubblico, Siena. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)  45 7. Duccio di Buoninsegna, Maestà (detail), tempera and gold on panel, Museo dell’Opera Metropolitana, Siena. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)  47 8. Unknown artist, Virgin and Child, ivory statuette, France, height 32 cm, Louvre, Paris. (Ré­union des Musées Nationaux/Art Resource, NY)  51

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Illustrations 9. Simone Martini, Saint Louis of Toulouse Crowning His Brother Robert of d’Anjou, tempera and gold on panel, main panel 200 × 138 cm and predella 56 × 138 cm, Museo Nazionale di Capodimonte, Naples. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)  59 10. Sandro Botticelli, Madonna del Padiglione, tempera on panel, diameter 65 cm, Pinacoteca Ambrosiana, Milan. (Biblioteca Ambrosiana, ­Milan)  75 11. Sandro Botticelli, Birth of Venus, tempera on canvas, 184.5 × 285.5 cm, Uffizi, Florence. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)  79 12. Venus de’ Medici (Roman statue), marble, height 153 cm without base, Uffizi, Florence. (Alinari/Art Resource, NY)  81 13. Sandro Botticelli, Idealized Portrait of a Lady (so-­called Simonetta), oil and tempera on panel, 82 × 54 cm, Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main. (© U. Edelmann—Städel Museum—ARTOTHEK)  93 14. Sandro Botticelli, Mars and Venus, tempera and oil on panel, 69.2 × 173.4 cm, National Gallery, London. (© National Gallery, London/ Art Resource, NY)  99 15. Andrea del Verrocchio, Head of a Young Woman, charcoal heightened with white and brown ink, 325 × 272 mm, British Museum, London (© The Trustees of the British Museum)  103 16. Leonardo da Vinci, Head of a Woman (study for Leda and the Swan), pen and ink, 9.2 × 11.2 cm, Windsor, RL 12515. (The Royal Collection © 2010, Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II)  105 17. Sandro Botticelli, Adoration of the Magi, tempera on panel, 111 × 134 cm, Uffizi, Florence. (Nimatallah/Art Resource, NY)  111 18. Sandro Botticelli, Giuliano de’ Medici, tempera on panel, 75.5 × 52.5 cm, framed 105.7 × 81.3 × 11.3 cm, National Gallery of Art, Washington. (Samuel H. Kress Collection, image courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington)  115 19. Benozzo Gozzoli, Erythraean Sibyl (detail of frame of Fra Angelico’s Crucifixion), fresco, Chapterhouse, San Marco (Museo di San Marco), Florence. (Scala/Art Resource, NY)  127

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Illustrations 20. Cosimo Rosselli (school), Adoration of the Magi, tempera on panel, 101 × 217 cm, Uffizi, Florence. (Scala/Ministero per i Beni e le Attività culturali/Art Resource, NY)  149 21. Last Supper (detail from Processional Cross), Florentine, silver, partly gilt, niello, copper, with traces of gilding over wood, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. (Image © Metropolitan Museum of Art/Art Resource, NY)  163 22. Piero del Pollaiuolo, Prudence, oil on panel, 167 × 88 cm, Uffizi, Florence. (Finsiel/Alinari/Art Resource, NY)  169 23. Master ES, The Evangelist John, engraving, 148 (borderline) × 99 mm, British Museum, London. (© The Trustees of the British ­Museum)  175 24. Master ES, The Evangelist Mark, engraving, 146 (borderline) × 99 mm, British Museum, London. (© The Trustees of the British ­Museum)  177 25. Master ES, The Evangelist Matthew, engraving, 148 (borderline) × 96 mm, British Museum, London. (© The Trustees of the British ­Museum)  179 26. Master ES, Saint Thomas, engraving, 134 (cut) × 95 mm, British ­Museum, London. (© The Trustees of the British Museum)  181 27. Baccio Baldini (at­trib­uted), The Prophet Amos, engraving, 147 × 106 mm, British Museum, London. (© The Trustees of the British ­Museum)  183 28. Master ES, Saint Paul, engraving, 132 (cut) × 100 mm, British ­Museum, London. (© The Trustees of the British Museum)  185 29. Master ES, Lady with a Helmet and Shield, engraving, 99 (cut) × 65 mm, British Museum, London. (© The Trustees of the British ­Museum)  187 30. Baccio Baldini (at­trib­uted), The Prophet Daniel, engraving, 149 × 108 mm, British Museum, London. (© The Trustees of the British ­Museum)  191

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Illustrations 31. Martin Schongauer, Christ Before Pilate, engraving, 166 (borderline) × 112 mm, British Museum, London. (© The Trustees of the British Museum)  193 32. Hans Memling, Maria Maddalena Baroncelli, Wife of Tomaso Portinari, 44.1 × 34 cm, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York. (Image © Metropolitan Museum of Art/Art Resource, NY)  197 33. Unknown artist, Portrait of Margaret of York, oil on panel, 20.5 × 12.4 cm, Louvre, Paris. (Erich Lessing/Art Resource, NY)  199

The Twelve Sibyls, Florentine Fine Manner All are at­trib­uted to Baccio Baldini and housed in the British Museum, London. (© The Trustees of the British Museum) A.1.  The Persian Sibyl, engraving, 180 × 108 mm.  270 A.2.  The Libyan Sibyl, engraving, 178 × 108 mm.  274 A.3.  The Delphian Sibyl, engraving, 179 × 108 mm.  278 A.4.  The Cimmerian Sibyl, engraving, 179 × 106 mm.  282 A.5.  The Erythrean Sibyl, engraving, 179 × 108 mm.  286 A.6.  The Samian Sibyl, engraving, 180 × 108 mm.  290 A.7.  The Cumaean Sibyl, engraving, 179 × 108 mm.  294 A.8.  The Hellespontine Sibyl, engraving, 179 × 108 mm.  298 A.9.  The Phrygian Sibyl, engraving, 180 × 108 mm.  302 A.10.  The Tiburtine Sibyl, engraving, 179 × 108 mm.  306 A.11.  The Sibyl Europa, engraving, 179 × 106 mm.  310 A.12.  The Sibyl Agrippa, engraving, 178 × 108 mm.  314

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Acknowledgments I am grateful to Joe Connors for his kind invitation to deliver the Berenson Lectures and for the warm hospitality extended to me by him, Françoise Connors, and the ever helpful staff at I Tatti, many of them old friends. I recall with special plea­ sure the lectures themselves, which were delivered to an impressively large and enthusiastic audience that was also filled with many friends and colleagues in the study of Renaissance Florence. Very special thanks are due to Naoko Takahatake and Jessica Richardson for their invaluable and extraordinarily ef­fi­cient assistance in acquiring illustrations and permissions. I am also grateful to Ian Stevenson, Assistant Editor in the Humanities at Harvard University Press, for his patience and good humor in seeing the book through to final publication. As always, my deepest appreciation is reserved for Elizabeth Cropper, whose patience, sharp prodding, and infallibly sound judgment have given me indispensable support throughout. I dedicate this book to the memory of my dear son, Adam Sell Dempsey, who died while it was being written, and to his widow, Kayoko Dempsey. One further, special acknowledgment needs to be made. I xi

Acknowledgments am especially in the debt of Nerida Newbigin, whom I ran into by chance in the via dei Servi one fine June day in Florence in 2010, and who at a moment’s notice generously agreed to read chapters 3 and 4 and my appendix. She did so with extraordinary speed and close attention, and I have bene­fited greatly from her acute observations, which have saved me from many a slip. Needless to say, I am entirely responsible for such errors as remain. I must add that on one crucial point we differ. Professor Newbigin is convinced for sound reasons that the traditional attribution of the sibyls’ octaves to Feo Belcari is in error, principally because they are not mentioned in the list of Belcari’s works compiled by his son while Belcari still lived. I have accordingly altered my text to keep the question of attribution as open as possible. However, in my heart of hearts I believe that Belcari, famous for his mastery of ottava rima (so beautifully analyzed by Limentani), was the author, and that the octaves were not separately listed by his son simply because they were considered a part of his Annunciation play. But this is a prob­lem that merits closer study by others more expert than I. Washington, D.C. December 2010

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The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture

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Introduction

= This is the third book I have devoted to the broad theme of the importance of vernacular culture to the un­der­stand­ing of Renaissance art. The first, titled The Portrayal of Love: Botticelli’s Primavera and Humanist Culture at the Time of Lorenzo the Magnificent, was framed as a particular study of Botticelli’s Primavera, which without doubt was conceived on the basis of a profound knowledge of classical culture that was unquestionably mediated by the great humanist scholar and poet Angelo Poliziano. In it, I suggested (and I am still convinced) that the classical materia motivating Botticelli’s imagery has essentially been established, and that therefore the classical structure of the Primavera’s invention—that is, its basic iconography—has for all intents and purposes been resolved. The various interconnected ancient texts informing this in1

Introduction vention (for Botticelli was not illustrating a single mythological episode but instead expressing a new poetic idea—a new poesia on the model of the ancients—transposed into painting) were assembled with elegant philological precision. The invention of the Primavera is cast in the form of a carmen rusticum invoking the primitive gods of the ancient spring as they had been worshiped before the Caesars, in the very earliest days of the Roman Republic. However, the appearance of the gods painted by Botticelli bears no relation to their representation in ancient art. To invoke Panofsky’s famous “law of disjunction,” their form is not matched to their content. They are instead imagined, as Warburg had early recognized, in faithful renderings of the contemporary quasi­theatrical costumes and accoutrements designed for the enactments of Florentine festivals, masquerades, and civic celebrations. In other words, like the nymphs and gods of Boccaccio’s Ninfale Fiesolano, the ancient deities appear resurrected in the familiar domestic setting of the Florentine countryside. They are imagined in contemporary guise, and they speak in the vernacular tongue. The same is true of Poliziano’s Stanze cominciate per la giostra di Giuliano de’ Medici, virtually contemporary with the painting of the Primavera. And, like the Primavera, the Stanze is dazzling in its combination of profound classical allusions, its virtually infinite echoes of ancient poetic antecedents in combination with Petrarchan reminiscences, the whole presented in the most re­fined Tuscan vernacular. The prob­lem of interpretation—not least for  the Primavera—now shifts from simple iconography to 2

Introduction one of un­der­stand­ing the conventions and rules governing the writing and reception of vernacular poetry as descended from Petrarch and the writers of the dolce stil novo, in par­ ticular as these conventions were adapted in the poetry of Lorenzo de’ Medici and his contemporaries, the most distinguished of whom was Poliziano. This poetry, so rich in spe­ cific references to contemporary places, persons, events, and ideals, follows rules different from the conventions governing the reading of classical poetry and requires the application of different interpretive strategies. My second book, Inventing the Renaissance Putto, took as its subject the fig­ure of the infant putto, so familiar from second­century Roman sculpture in particular. Long all but dormant, the putto was revived in the Quattrocento, above all by Donatello, who indeed may be said to have reinvented the fig­ure and given it new expressive meaning. In Donatello’s time, putti were familiarly named, even in Latin documents, not as Latin amores or genii, but as vernacular spiritelli, or sprites. The meaning of this word is not truly synonymous with any Latin equivalent and is especially clarified by its appearance in vernacular poetry, most notably in Dante’s Vita nuova and Convivio, from which it passed to the fif­teenth century and the poetry of Lorenzo the Magnificent (especially his Comento sopra alcuni de’ suoi sonetti) and his circle. Again the prob­ lem of un­der­stand­ing the uses and reception of even such apparently minor fig­ures be­comes one of grasping their meaning to contemporary Tuscan-­speaking audiences, even among those with considerable skills in the ancient languages. 3

Introduction What did these audiences see in their mind’s eye when reading the ancient stories? Or, in Aby Warburg’s famous formulation, What was it about antiquity that “interested” artists (and their viewers) in the Quattrocento? Accordingly, I asserted in my introduction to that book that, while I agreed with Panofsky’s defense of the concept of the Renaissance as comprising a distinct historical period, I questioned what seemed to me to be an overemphasis on the phenomenon of classical revival as uniquely de­fin­ing the distinctiveness of that period. Again I asserted the importance of vernacular culture as expressed in linguistic and visual forms to the extraordinary achievements of the Renaissance in Italy in the fourteenth and fif­teenth centuries. In this book, I return to the same theme, hoping to amplify upon it by examining a limited number of examples. In the first chapter, following a brief outline of the his­tory of the concept of the Renaissance itself, I begin with an examination of Simone Martini’s extraordinary Maestà in Siena, a painting that has neither classical content nor form but that evinces perhaps the very first adaptation in Ital­ian painting of those French courtly poetic conventions that were simultaneously transforming the vernacular idioms of the new Ital­ian poetry. In particular, I rehearse the now familiar norms for representing female beauty in the poetics of the vernacular, French in origin and Ital­ian in application, and suggest that these provide the key to un­der­stand­ing the emergence of an idea of terrestrial, and even erotic, cortesia. It is an idea that responds to norms and ideals that are decidedly not classical, 4

Introduction and to this theme I return in the second chapter. This begins with an analysis of Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, painted a century and a half after Simone’s Maestà. Here we are presented not with the Madonna as queen of a court, but with an image of the ancient goddess of love and beauty whose aspect is profoundly motivated by humanist Latin and Greek learning at  its most re­fined. Again thanks to Poliziano’s exquisitely learned intervention, Botticelli’s Venus is conceived in rivalry with Apelles’s famous Venus Anadyomene as described by Pliny and several Greek epigrams in the Planudean Anthology, imitated by Poliziano in a Greek epigram of his own. However, notwithstanding the profound humanist learning that informed Botticelli’s conception, it is noteworthy and highly sig­nifi­cant that the fig­ure of Venus, notwithstanding the model for her in an ancient statue (of the so-­called Medici Venus type), responds to the distinctly unclassical norms for describing female beauty in vernacular love lyric (as do her sinuously graceful Gothic contours), norms that also determine the courtly appearance of the Madonna in Simone’s Maestà. They are sisters under the skin, and both are to be understood and interpreted in terms of the rules governing contemporary Tuscan poetic expression. The chapter then concludes with a parallel examination of Luigi Pulci’s comic frottola titled “Le Galee per Quaracchi” and Botticelli’s so-­ called Portrait of Simonetta Cattaneo Vespucci in Frankfurt, recently upgraded, in my opinion rightly so, from a studio production to the hand of the master himself. The poem lists in extravagantly burlesque detail the adornments and cosmetics 5

Introduction required by the ladies—two galleys full!—for a weekend visit to Bernardo Rucellai’s villa just outside Florence, while the painting depicts in no less extravagant detail a breathtakingly beautiful young Florentine woman tricked out with adornments such as those described by Pulci. Here we are confronted with a true critical aporia: Is she a portrait of an ­actual contemporary beauty such as Simonetta? Is she a forerunner of Michelangelo’s unquestionably ideal (and unquestionably classical) teste divine? Does she personify some ancient goddess, such as Athena (an armor stomach plate is barely visible beneath her breasts)? Or is she all these things, an ac­tual woman playing a role in one of Florence’s civic (and vernacular) representations, as had Simonetta herself when she was painted as a kind of Athena personifying Chaste Glory by none other than Botticelli on the banner carried by Giuliano de’ Medici into the joust he won in 1475? The second half of the book, chapters 3 and 4, take up the question of civic celebrations directly, in particular the Feast of San Giovanni, and the new enactments, or sacre rappresentazioni devised for them. These chapters are especially concerned with the fig­ures of the sibyls devised for these enactments because in their production we encounter, some thirty years earlier than in Botticelli’s mythologies, the intersection of the new humanist learning with artistic, in this case theatrical, production. At some time around 1430 the humanist scholars at Cardinal Giordano Orsini’s court in Rome had devised a new iconography for the ancient sibyls, increasing 6

Introduction their number from ten to twelve and endowing each with new at­trib­utes and new prophecies. The twelve sibyls were also painted, together with twelve prophets for a room in the Orsini Palace. The paintings are lost, but de­scrip­tions of them were circulated widely, arriving in Ferrara by the early 1440s and Florence shortly thereafter. In the next de­cade in Florence the Latin prophecies of the Orsini sibyls were given paraphrastic translation in ottava rima, some of which were recited as the prologue to the Annunciation play written by Feo Belcari, a master of ottava rima who, together with his sometime collaborator Piero di Mariano Muzi, has a claim to be one of the inventors of the new rappresentazioni, the earliest of which dates to the late 1440s. The sibyls’ verses also appear in corrupt form as captions to Baccio Baldini’s engravings of the twelve sibyls, dating to the early 1470s, in which the sibyls are represented in quasi-­theatrical costume and with the at­trib­utes invented for the Orsini sibyls. Chapter 3 is devoted to the reconstruction of the ancient sibyls and their prophecies undertaken by Cardinal Orsini’s humanist scholars. Chapter 4 takes as its subject the vernacular octaves with the sibylline prophecies at­trib­uted by long tradition to Feo Belcari. Finally, the book ends with an appendix reconstructing the twelve vernacular octaves themselves.

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ONE

Courtly Lyric I

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Simone Martini, F re nch Courtly Lyric , and the Vernac ular

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hanks in large part to the proliferation of art his­tory studies posited on the models of social and economic historical research into what has come to be called the Early Modern Period, the very concept of Renaissance art has fallen into an oddly unresolved limbo. In particular, an idea of Renaissance art de­fined in its essence as the recovery and revival of classical form and usage seriously requires rethinking. To be sure, Vasari had referred to a rebirth (rinascita) of art commencing with Giotto, but it is clear that by this he did not intend to characterize a rebirth of the art of antiquity. He meant, on the contrary, that art itself had been reborn after long being interred (sotterramento), dating from the time of Emperor Constantine and Pope Sylvester. Its revival was ascribable to a return, accomplished by Giotto, to ren11

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture dering the effects of nature, the world as it is seen and experienced. The idea that Renaissance art was founded in a classical revival is a product of German Romanticism, descending in particular from Friedrich Schlegel, who in 1797 became the first to employ the word “classical” to denominate the idealizing artistic style of antiquity and its Nachleben.1 The notion of Renaissance culture as itself a rebirth of classical, or even pagan, antiquity was then given definitive statement by Jacob Burckhardt, in Die Kultur der Renaissance in Italien of 1860. Notwithstanding numerous revisionist attempts, it has enjoyed fairly general assent up to the present day, and was powerfully reasserted by Erwin Panofsky in 1965 in his classic Renaissance and Renascences in Western Art (I here employ the word “classic” in its original sense of “canonical”). In this profoundly learned book—persuasive and enlightening in dozens of subsidiary demonstrations, but mistaken, I believe, in its major prem­ise—Panofsky offered his famous “law of disjunction,” whereby he argued that the art of the Renaissance reached ma­tu­ri­ty only when classical form (pathos) was reunited with classical content (ethos). He was unable to discern an engagement with a pure idea of classicism thus conceived until its adumbration in Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, painted around 1485, and its full emergence with Raphael’s klassischer Idealstil about twenty years later. Small wonder, then, that Panofsky was accordingly compelled to redate the emergence of the Renaissance to nearly two centuries after Giotto and Duccio in art, and Dante and Petrarch in letters, with 12

courtly lyric i whom, ever since Boccaccio, Villani, Ghiberti, and Vasari himself, the new epoch had been said to find its beginnings. This virtual iden­ti­fi­ca­tion of the Renaissance with an idea of classicism only first realized by Raphael ultimately derives from eigh­teenth-­century criticism and, especially, Winckelmann’s celebration of an aesthetic and moral perfection attained in ancient Greek art, which for him had been partially reborn, though only briefly, in Ital­ian art of the early sixteenth century. For Vasari, on the other hand, this moment marked the emergence of a third and final phase (which he variously called the terza maniera or maniera moderna) of a long revival of art that had developed over the previous two centuries and reached its apogee with Raphael’s slightly older contemporary Michelangelo, whose realization of a perfected nature in the representation of the human form had (in Vasari’s view) surpassed the achievement even of the ancients. The first phase in the rebirth of art, marked by Giotto’s rendering of natural appearances in reaction against the endlessly repeated de­cadent formulas of the maniera greca (or Byzantine manner), had been followed by a second, initiated by Brunelleschi, Donatello, and Masaccio, in which the painting of natural appearances and effects was re­fined by theoretical rationalization. As a result, the materials of optics (including perspective), anatomy, and proportion were subjected to structural and mathematical analysis and additionally mastered. To borrow Panofsky’s elegant phrasing, artists of the first phase painted nature as it appeared before them 13

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture (natura naturata), whereas artists of the second phase also sought to work according to the principles by which nature creates (natura naturans). For Vasari, artists working in both periods did consciously emulate the ancients in their desire to render nature, and the undoubted achievement of antiquity provided a yardstick for measuring their own success, but not necessarily a style to be  emulated as such. The truth of this is indeed apparent from Pisanello’s copies after Roman sarcophagi, in which, stylistically speaking, the ancient origins of the fig­ures are undetectable in their uncomfortably self-­conscious nakedness, far more Gothic than they are Roman. It also appears from Benozzo Gozzoli’s drawing of one of the Quirinal Horsetamers (Fig. 1), who resembles an unclothed shop assistant rather more than an ancient hero; or from Pollaiuolo’s various versions of Hercules in violent combat; or yet again from Bertoldo’s famous bronze battle relief in the Bargello, in which fig­ures literally copied from a Roman sarcophagus are rendered in a manner recognizably Ghibertian. In these examples, there is evident a desire to take antiquity as a guide to rendering the effects of observable nature, but little interest in antique style as such, much less a Winckelmannian con­ cept of “noble simplicity and quiet grandeur” (eine edle Einfalt und eine stille Grösse, in Winckelmann’s famous phrase). The same may be said of Brunelleschi’s demonstration of the mathematical principles governing perspective, a means he devised for bringing the observable world into sharp three-­ dimensional focus. 14

Fig. 1. Benozzo Gozzoli, Horsetamer, British Museum, London.

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courtly lyric i Vasari had praised the art of antiquity generically, as the representation of a perfected nature also attained by the terza maniera, equaled by Raphael, and surpassed only by Michelangelo. But he never assigned a distinct set of permanent values to this style. Nor did seventeenth-­century critics such as Bellori, for whom the disegno of antiquity and Raphael together embodied the highest perfection attained in the arts until being equaled and even surpassed by Annibale Carracci, who naturalized that perfection through his mastery of the illusionistic effects of Lombard color and Venetian chiaroscuro. Indeed, for Annibale and for seventeenth-­century artists and critics generally, the school of Rome and Raphael was but one of four great sixteenth-­century schools, distinct from the Florence of Michelangelo, the Venice of Titian and Tintoretto, and Correggio’s Lombardy. For them, the great challenge to artists was to find a means for uniting their different qualities to achieve a yet more universal style. Winckelmann’s conception of a Hellenic norm (he never used the word “classical”) only approximately recovered in the idealist art of the sixteenth century in Rome, on the other hand, was based in the further claim that this Hellenic norm had an in­ de­pen­dent, absolute value of its own. In making this claim, he departed profoundly from Vasari’s narrative of the origins of a modern manner growing out of Giotto’s reconquest of nature and from Bellori’s narrative of a Roman idea that had dismally failed after Raphael’s death until revived by an enhanced coloristic illusionism imported from the schools of northern Italy. It is only with Winckelmann that the idea was 17

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture born that the very essence of the Renaissance lay in its recovery of a permanent, noncontingent truth inherent to clas­ sicism (as Schlegel rechristened Winckelmann’s concept of Hellenic style) and that this was manifested above all in Raphael’s art. This profoundly in­flu­en­tial idea immediately took root, find­ing powerful support in Goethe, for example, who nevertheless tried to reconcile Winckelmann’s critical perception with Vasari’s his­tory by acknowledging (as did Panofsky) the Aretine’s claim that the way had been prepared by Giotto and his followers. “In order to know him [Raphael] and to evaluate him correctly,” Goethe wrote, “and not to think of him as a god who, like Melchisedech, was born without father or mother, one must regard his forerunners as his masters; they laid the foundation on a firm basis of truth.”2 The same uneasy compromise was then ­adopted by Johann David Passavant who, in his in­flu­en­tial Ansichten über die bildenden Künste und Darstellung des Ganges darselben in Toscana of 1820, took Vasari as his historical guide while also viewing the development of Tuscan art as gradually ascending toward a permanent norm in Raphael, from which it inevitably declined. Ever since, the historiography of Renaissance art has been dominated by two awkwardly sutured narratives: Vasari’s of the revival and increasing mastery of the study of nature in the Trecento and succeeding centuries; and Winckelmann’s of the rebirth of a permanent Hellenic ideal in the early years of the sixteenth century. The tension between these two nar18

courtly lyric i ratives has been masked by introducing the term “High ­Renaissance” to denominate the latter classical style, distinguishing it from an “Early Renaissance” naturalist transition away from the conventions of late medieval art. Sydney Freed­ berg’s masterful account of the course of Ital­ian sixteenth-­ century painting in the Pelican History of Art series may be said to summarize the state of the question, and it essentially af­firms Winckelmann and Panofsky’s conceptions with the claim that the principles of High Renaissance classicism were precociously conceived by Leonardo da Vinci in Florence and then perfected by Raphael in the Rome of Julius II and Leo X.3 Conceived purely as a question of style (setting aside other issues, such as religion), this is unexceptionable. Indeed, it could be argued that one permanent achievement of the High Renaissance was the discovery of the very concept of style (maniera). This concept incorporated not only Raphael’s classicism but also Venetian naturalism, Lombard colorism, and the mannerisms of Rome, Tuscany, and other regions (these latter might perhaps best be viewed as themselves inherent to High Renaissance art rather than reactions to it). Be that as it may, E. H. Gombrich, in his well-­known essay “Norm and Form,” went even further than Panofsky in af­ firming not only that the “classic solution,” as he called it, had been attained by Raphael with the emergence of what Vasari called the maniera moderna, but also in explicitly endorsing Winckelmann’s claim that the classic style embodied an aesthetic and moral absolute, a permanent norm against 19

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture which the contingencies of all other styles could be gauged. He made the following extraordinary statement: Such a morphology of styles as we have we owe to the stability of the classical solution, [which] shows there are limits to historical relativism. . . . [No] purely formal analysis can do justice to that achievement of reconciliation between the two con­flicting aims [of order and fidelity to nature] which we call the classical perfection of a Raphael Madonna. . . . [The] achievement of a lucid narrative and the presentation of physical beauty are norms that have a permanent meaning. At least, it seems to me that relativism in these matters can easily be exaggerated. I know quite well that ideals of beauty vary from country to country and age to age, but I still think we know what we mean when we call Raphael’s Madonnas more beautiful than Rembrandt’s, even though we may like Rembrandt’s better.4

Gombrich’s view closely resembles that prevailing in the eigh­teenth and early nineteenth centuries, when neoclassic critics in­flu­enced by Winckelmann’s exegesis of a perfected aesthetic and moral norm achieved by “Hellenic” art also believed that the rebirth (renaissance) of this norm in Italy occurred only at the beginning of the sixteenth century, soon to be followed by an inevitable decline. Hans Belting has acutely noted the inherent tension of such attempts to reconcile a historical with a purely aesthetic account. To narrate “the genesis or de­cadence of style in literature or the visual arts is always a rewarding strategy for put­ting forward a norm or ideal for art,” he wrote. Winckelmann’s concept of 20

courtly lyric i a  teleological development based on biological models of growth, ma­tu­ri­ty, and decay was in reality nothing more than a beautiful fiction that seemed to furnish the historical evidence that an artistic norm miraculously discovered in ancient Greece was absolute and hence perennially available for rediscovery—and rebirth. As Belting wrote, [The] single work thus constitutes a mere station in the development toward an unfolding of a norm of art. Even if complete in itself, a given work remains open-­ended in relation to the evolution of that norm. It seems paradoxical that, of all things, a norm (the aim of a future fulfillment) should render each result (each single work) achieved along this path incomplete and thus make it de­pen­dent on an overall historical pro­cess. . . . The historical de­scrip­tion of art began  as applied art theory and consequently was in trouble as soon as the latter went out of fashion. . . . If art in the future would no ­longer fulfill the norm, so much the worse for art.5

Put crudely, by the terms of Gombrich’s argument, founded on meta-­aesthetic conviction more than one either historical or even strictly aesthetic, a Madonna by Raphael (or Giulio Romano, or Stradanus, or Carlo Maratta) would by defi­ni­tion be more beautiful than one painted by Rembrandt (or Van Eyck, or Velásquez, or Manet), since the mea­ sure of artistic achievement would be its approximation to the Hellenic norm, to the permanence of the “classical solution.” Artists could only imitate Raphael and the antique in the dubious hopes of refining that solution. It would follow 21

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture that the work of the very greatest artists ought to resemble each other ever more closely—and even become all but sty­ listically and individually indistinguishable—as each more closely approximated the classical norm, and the very richness of art itself be reduced to a dreary and formulaic sameness. Our experience of artists of the first rank proves the opposite, and indeed the fallacy was early perceived by the Carracci, who saw that the works of the greatest artists—a Raphael, for example, a Titian, a Correggio, and a Michelangelo—were inimitably and uniquely their own. They did not tend toward a unifying Platonic idea of perfect beauty, and the greater they succeeded with each masterpiece the more unlike one another they appeared. Resemblance, on the other hand, is the fate allotted to followers, whose works in descending order of talent do indeed tend to look more and more like each other. The works of the greatest masters stand out like beacons, each with its own unmistakably distinctive  and, as seventeenth-­century critics insisted, inimitable beauty. However, socially oriented research, with its interest in the uses served by works of art in ev­eryday life, whether in homes, churches, lay confraternities, or municipal buildings and spaces, has inevitably drawn attention to the importance of another phenomenon, the desire apparent in earlier Renaissance artists to portray the vividness of lived experience and to express the vitality of ac­tual feelings, aspirations, and living sensibilities—that is, what Vasari understood to be fidelity to nature. Accordingly, there has been a revival of in22

courtly lyric i terest in the thought of two great art historians, Aby Warburg (who, as Felix Gilbert acutely remarked, made possible the very idea of a socially based his­tory of Florentine fif­ teenth-­century art) and Henry Thode, who each proposed powerful alternatives to Burckhardt’s vision of the Renaissance. In Warburg’s view, the purely idealist conception of the Florentine response to ancient culture that was later to be all but canonized in its most abstract form in the Neo­ platonic interpretations of Renaissance art put forward by Panofsky, Gombrich, Edgar Wind, André Chastel, and others was fundamentally misguided. “In the fif­teenth century,” he wrote, “the antique as a source of poised and mea­sured beauty—the hallmark of its in­flu­ence as we have known it  ever since Winckelmann—still counted for comparatively little.” Already in his dissertation, on Botticelli’s Primavera and Birth of Venus (the latter of which was Panofsky’s example of the first rebirth of a true spirit of classicism), Warburg set the question that was to occupy the rest of his life. Published in 1893 and sig­nifi­cantly subtitled “An Examination of Concepts of Antiquity in the Ital­ian Early Renaissance,” the dissertation proposed to examine Botticelli’s art in relation to “analogous ideas that appear in contemporary art theory and poetic literature, and thus to exemplify what it was about antiquity that ‘interested’ the artists of the Quattrocento.” For, he added, “The fig­ures of ancient myth appeared before Ital­ian society, not as plaster casts, but in person, as fig­ures full of life and color, in the festival pageants through which pagan joie de vivre had kept its foothold in popular culture.”6 23

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Similarly, in 1885 (eight years before Warburg’s dissertation), Thode published his great book on St. Francis of Assisi, in which he also argued that the wellspring of the new art of the Renaissance was to be found not in a remote and abstractly ideal classicism, but in experience: a new experience of religious spirituality and natural phenomena founded (like Warburg’s festival pageants) in vernacular culture.7 Rejecting Burckhardt’s emphasis on a lay spirit animating Renaissance culture, rational and critical to the core, Thode further denied that the Renaissance entailed any return to paganism or revival of a pagan spirit (in contrast to Warburg’s sensing a “pagan joie de vivre” in the Florentine festivals). It must be said at once that Thode’s fascination with the religious mysticism of the earlier Renaissance carried with it unfortunate and even dangerous implications that were exploited by contemporary conservatives of both nationalist and Ultramontanist tendencies, to which Thode himself was hardly immune. Deeply attracted to Wagner and the Christian and Germanic mysticism of the circle of Bayreuth, Thode was no doubt also affected by the thought of such contemporaries as the French historian Emile Gebhart (himself heavily in­flu­enced by Ernest Renan), for whom the origins of the Renaissance were profoundly rooted in the religious sentiment of the later Middle Ages. Both Thode and Gebhart were in turn admired by the historian and German philologist Konrad Burdach, whose book on Cola da Rienzo was and still is an indispensable resource. In Burdach’s view, the Renaissance, which he preferred to call a renovatio or reformatio, arose in the thir24

courtly lyric i teenth and fourteenth centuries with the mysticism of St. Francis, the prophecies of Joachim of Flora, the po­lit­i­cal programs of Cola da Rienzo, and with Petrarch’s dreams of an Ital­ian nation, all of them reformatores who found their continuance in Cusano’s pax fidei and in Pico’s ideas of philosophical Concordia.8 Like Thode, Burdach was a learned and exacting scholar, but he was one whose initial and merited in­flu­ence was soon to be considerably eclipsed by his Fascist sympathies. Burdach wrote, for example, in his preface to Delio Cantimori’s translation into Ital­ian of his im­por­tant study, published in 1926, Reformation, Renaissance, Humanismus: zwei Abhandlung über die Grundlage moderner Bildung und Sprachkunst, of his admiration for Hitler and Mussolini as the new “Tribunes of the People.”9 But here we venture into murky waters, which Panofsky, writing as he did in the early postwar years, may be forgiven for wishing to avoid. For Gebhart and Burdach, the phenomenon of the Renaissance was surely more profound than “only” the recovery of letters and “only” a return to nature. Thode’s rejection of all forms of positivism and materialism also led him to search out a more profound spiritual cause for the arrival of the new age, which for him entailed a rinascita di Cristo or the Holy Spirit. However, I would certainly wish to contest the idea that the recovery of letters and the arts is in­suf­fic­ ient to justify the claims of the Renaissance (which many identify with the rise of humanism) to its historical centrality. The ways in which people see and feel, and the means by which they describe these experiences, are fun25

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture damental to literary and artistic expression in all ­genres. I would suggest that the revival of letters, which entailed the recovery of ancient texts in tandem with the new cultivation of the vernacular language and literature, together with the revival of the visual arts, gradually altered the way people saw the world around them and expressed what they saw. This amounted in the end to a kind of psychological mutation, the effects of which can be traced and described. Thode’s and Burchard’s search for a “deeper spirituality” giving a more profound unity to the period led them to sac­ ri­fice at the altars of two restlessly maleficent demons: on the one hand, a reactionary religious Ultramontanism, notably in France; and, on the other, a profoundly conservative po­lit­i­cal nationalism that focused on a “Germanic” spirit identifiable in the very origins of the Renaissance, originally arising in the Sicilian court of the emperor Frederick II. Nonetheless, their perceptions of the centrality of vernacular religious and secular cultures to the emergence of the Renaissance were historically well founded. And now that more than half a century has elapsed since the defeat of Fascism and Nazism with all their attendant evils, the time has come to review objectively the historical materials adduced by Thode, Burchard, and others of their time and circumstances, to separate the wheat from the chaff, and to put such arguments that derive from their considerable historical and philological learning to ­profit­able use. Thus, in contrast to Burckhardt’s in­flu­en­tial insistence on the spe­cifi­cally classical foundations to the Renaissance, 26

courtly lyric i ­ hode rightly emphasized the central role played by St. FranT cis in the creation of a new vernacular-­based culture. Francis, who as a youth had been greatly enamored of the poetry of the troubadours, was among the very first to respond favorably to the popular demand for sermons preached in the common tongue rather than in a Latin no one could understand, and he was an inventor of that most characteristic form of lay devotional verse, the lauda (early perfected by the  Franciscan Jacopone da Todi). His popular vernacular preaching inspired homespun elaborations of biblical stories such as those written by the Franciscan Pseudo-­Bonaventura (and, later, by the authors of the first sacre rappresentazioni), whose immense in­flu­ence on the arts was extensively documented long ago by Emile Mâle. These elaborations also in­ flu­enced Giotto. Among his frescoes in the Scrovegni Chapel is a sequence of which no fewer than four scenes are devoted to narrating the marriage of the Virgin; in the last of them, the Virgin, preceded by a musician playing the viola da braccia and greeted by trumpeters, is escorted to her new home in the house of Joseph (Fig. 2). Needless to say, the scene is not imagined on the basis of scripture, but rather in accordance with the customs of Giotto’s time, including the placement in the upper loggia of a green branch (or maius) in token of the hopes for a child. In Thode’s view, such new forms of popular devotional expression in preaching, poetry, and painting announced a genuinely new culture originating with St. Francis. It was a culture nurtured by the powerful vernacular preaching of the new mendicant orders and fortified 27

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture by such new developments as the emergence and rapid growth of the lay laudesi companies. In this emerging culture, a new kind of visual art was created for the mendicant orders, and new poetry and music were composed for their devotions. Thode saw the visual arts’ depictions of natural phenomena and civic life and their direct appeal to popular experience as new forms of a visual vernacular, conceived in parallel to preaching, poetry, and music in vernacular idioms. In 1976, Elizabeth Cropper published a now-­classic article titled “On Beautiful Women, Parmigianino, Petrarchismo, and the Vernacular Style.”10 In it, she outlined the normative conventions for describing the beauties of the poet’s madonna in  vernacular verse, conventions that were also followed by painters in a long tradition developing over several centuries. Inherited from Provençal love poetry, the conventions were spelled out by Geoffrey de Vinsauf in his Poetria nova and Matthew of Vendôme in his Ars versificatoria, and they became permanently a part of the Ital­ian canon with Petrarch. They had, however, already been firmly established in Italy during the previous century by, among others, Guido Guinizelli and Brunetto Latini, Dante’s teacher, who, in the livres dou tresor describes Iseult in an unvarying order, a summo capitis ad ipsam radicem (from the top of her head down to her toes), beginning with her hair shining like golden threads, her broad forehead, her black eyebrows curved like little bows, her eyes shining like stars, her countenance of roses mixed with lilies, full lips and small mouth with teeth like pearls, and continuing on down the rest of her body. The formula 28

Fig. 2. Giotto di Bondone, The Virgin’s Wedding Procession, fresco, north wall, Arena Chapel, Padua.

29

courtly lyric i was endlessly repeated in the poetry of the succeeding centuries, as well as in painting, as evidenced by Botticelli’s unforgettable image of Flora in the Primavera (Fig. 3).11 Beauty for Botticelli, no less than for Latini and the poets of the stil novo, has blonde hair like spun gold, a face like ivory tinged with roses, a brow that is broad and serene, black eyebrows perfectly arched like little bows, and teeth like pearls, which are revealed when she smiles and seem to open a paradise to the eyes of the beholder. (I will here point out two anomalies in the descriptive convention, faithfully followed by Botticelli, namely blonde hair in combination with black eyebrows,  and serious eyes above a smiling mouth. The latter paradox produces the alluring ambiguity of Flora’s smile.) The metaphorical techniques of such poetic de­scrip­tions, whether applied to persons, places, or seasons, were, as Geoffrey and Matthew had claimed, the wellspring of poetic invention in the vernacular. They were repeated and varied in an unbroken tradition that continued in the following centuries, as Cropper showed with examples ranging from Botticelli’s Primavera to Parmigianino’s Madonna of the Long Neck through to Poussin’s Rebecca and Eliezer at the Well. All appeal to vernacular conventions for representing beauty that, even in the instance of Poussin, are decidedly not classic, despite Gombrich’s special pleading for the permanence of the classical solution. Thanks to Cropper’s demonstration, and much further work in both art and literature by Giovanni Pozzi and others, ev­ery­one is now familiar with how formal poetic de­ scrip­tion of the beloved’s beauty in the vernacular courtly 31

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture tradition (descriptio pulchritudinis), arising from the lyric materialism of poetry in the dolce stil novo, reopened the very question of beauty itself in Renaissance art, the donna’s beauty becoming a synecdoche for the beauty of works of art conceived and expressed in vernacular idioms.12 A new avenue for un­der­stand­ing the prob­lem of beauty in Renaissance painting and sculpture, as well as poetry, had thus been opened, calling into question the dominant Neoplatonic un­der­stand­ing of the aesthetic and moral content of  Renaissance art that had gained preeminence by the middle years of the last century. Eugenio Garin had already warned against the universal application to Renaissance art of so monolithic an aesthetic, really an extreme transformation into Ficinian terms of a Burckhardtian idea of classicism that claimed to have historical jus­tifi­ca­tion (though rather slender) but was in fact profoundly anti-­Warburgian. Garin vigorously protested against the “external nature and naivete” of so exclusively Platonic an un­der­stand­ing of the culture and art of the period, but to little effect. In a sharp rebuke to Panofsky and Charles De Tolnay’s Neoplatonic interpretations of a “classical Michelangelo,” he pointed out that “Ficino was not Pico, nor was he Poliziano, and Petrarch and Petrarchism were not the Neoplatonism of the Ficinians; Landino and his commentary on Dante had means of their own, and the return to the inspiration of the dolce stil novo had its own characteristics. The themes and ‘content’ of Michelangelo can only be reduced to intrinsically Platonic matter by  means of arguments largely drawn out of metaphors.”13 32

33

Fig. 3. Sandro Botticelli, Primavera, Uffizi, Florence.

courtly lyric i Thanks to Cropper’s demonstration, our un­der­stand­ing of Renaissance concepts of beauty—which by the mid-­twentieth century had come to seem more and more abstract, displaced, and remote, the foundation for a neo-­Burckhardtian concept of a rebirth of ancient classicism reconceived in purely Neoplatonic modes—now appeared equally rooted in the passions and contingencies of mortal existence. Beauty might appear in classical, Latinate, and Neoplatonic forms to be sure; but it might also be found (as Burckhardt had indeed acknowledged) in the natural world, in vernacular forms of expression, and in lyric celebrations of material being. Less well understood, however, is that this demonstration not only made accessible to art historians the easily grasped conventions of effictio, or de­scrip­tion of the external appearances of female beauty. It also established the interpretive context within which the portrayal of such ­women is to be understood, requiring a mastery of the rules governing the ways poetry written in lyric celebration of them and the ideas they embodied was composed and expected to be read. The conventions of vernacular courtly lyric, both religious and secular, require the discovery over time and the gradual un­ der­stand­ing of the poetic beloved’s prime notatio, or essential character. This is a variable that changes from one work of art to another. The lady’s essential character is unique to each instance, and it is de­fined by the particular idea of love to which each poet-­lover has surrendered his heart. All the beloved’s secondary notationes (i.e., the descriptive listing of such internal, essentially unrepresentable qualities as nobility, vir35

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture tue, or keenness of intellect) are, like her external beauties, merely ornaments to her prime notatio. Leonardo da Vinci made this point explicitly in his portrait of Ginevra de’Benci, without doubt painted for the Venetian Bernardo Bembo at the time of his ambassadorship to Florence. On the front (Fig. 4) appears her portrait (her effictio, or bodily representation), and on the back (Fig. 5) there is shown, framed by a laurel branch and palm frond, a motto (designating her prime notatio): VIRTVTEM FORMA DECORAT. We are thereby given to understand that Ginevra’s external beauty adorns an innate virtue hidden behind it. Leonardo himself elaborates upon the interpretive challenge thus posited and does so in extraordinary terms, as rec­orded in his so-­called paragone: Take a poet who describes the beauty of a lady to her lover, and take a painter who fig­ures her. . . . What poet will put before you with words, O Lover, the true effigy of your idea [italics mine] with as much truth as the painter? Who will show you the sites of rivers, woods, valleys, and fields, in which are represented your bygone plea­sures, with more truth than the painter?14

Note that Leonardo does not speak to the lover of the true effigy of his beloved. He speaks to him of the true effigy of his idea of her. Accordingly, we are to understand that in his Portrait of Ginevra de’Benci, although we look upon a verisimilar portrayal of the ac­tual Ginevra, seated before an equally verisimilar shady grove and cool stream (and Leo­ nardo stresses the importance of likeness and fidelity to nature 36

Fig. 4. Leonardo da Vinci, Ginevra de’ Benci (obverse), National Gallery of Art, Washington.

37

Fig. 5. Leonardo da Vinci, Ginevra de’ Benci (reverse), National Gallery of Art, Washington.

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courtly lyric i in his notebooks), all that we see, ev­ery­thing that is presented for the lover-­spectator’s plea­sure, has metaphorical valence. Not only is the ac­tual Ginevra represented; so also is Ginevra as a representation of an idea of love imagined by her courtly lover, Bernardo Bembo. She is in fact the highest expression of his imagination and his male desire. And indeed, as Jennifer Fletcher showed in an exemplary article, the device on the back of her portrait is nothing more than a paraphrastic variant, both in the visual and verbal senses, of Bembo’s own personal device, the motto VIRTVS ET HONOR framed by laurel and palm branches.15 Recent infrared photographs have revealed that this motto originally appeared on the reverse of Leonardo’s painting, thereby identifying it as belonging to Bembo.16 The device was then changed to refer to Ginevra by adding a sprig of juniper (ginepro = Ginevra) and altering the motto to its present form, VIRTUTEM FORMA DECORAT, poetically identifying her soul with Bembo’s idea of her.17 Her beauty adorns an idea of virtue that is wholly of his imagining and his desire, find­ing its perfection in her remembered presence among the cool springs and shady groves that together evoke for him a consoling refrigerium from ev­ery worldly passion and strife. Seen in such a light, the task of art his­tory criticism is to discover on a case-­by-­case basis, following the rules (guided by metaphorical clusterings of the sort indicated by Leo­ nardo) that govern the creation and reception of vernacular courtly poetry. The task is to discover for each unique painting what the imaginative idea of love is that we find expressed 41

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture in the portrayal of the beloved, whether she appears in the form of an ac­tual lady, as in the case of Ginevra de’Benci, or as some fictional counterpart, as in the instance of Brunetto Latini’s Iseult. Such an idea may be sacred or profane, expressed in the guise of the Madonna or of Venus. It may be a true idea of love, or even a false and deceiving one. It may be noble or straightforwardly erotic, and it may appear in the beatitude that is Beatrice, the idea of poetry enshrined in Laura, the myth of Florence embodied in Lorenzo de’ Me­ dici’s Lucrezia Donati, or in the carnal enchantments of an Alcina or Armida. It may appear as the idea of Christian Charity painted by Botticelli in his Madonna of the Magnificat; as the love of Virtue painted by Leonardo in the Portrait of Ginevra de’Benci; as that natural (and wholly terrestrial) love and desire producing the annual miracle of the renovatio mundi celebrated in Botticelli’s Primavera; or yet again as the self-­ deceiving and utterly corrupt love of carnal plea­sure put forward by Botticelli in his Mars and Venus, or by Bronzino in his London Allegory.18 Latin is the language of the Church, the university, and the chancery. The vernacular is the language of living experience in the world. In courtly poetry, the vernacular is the medium for expressing an idea of love in the world, an idea to which the poet, for good or ill, has dedicated his heart. So far as painting is concerned, it was a truism long before Thode to observe that the discovery in Italy of the ac­tuality of lived experience in the natural world arose together with the first flowering of vernacular expression, a phenomenon to which 42

courtly lyric i Ulrike Ilg has recently devoted a fine essay.19 Giotto is uniformly praised by the early writers Petrarch, Boccaccio, Cennino Cennini, Filippo Villani, Ghiberti, and Politian, as a painter of the realities of existence, as the creator of a “modern manner” based in the observation of nature, a judgment repeated, needless to say, by Vasari. However, such naturalism is far more complex than simply rendering the surface appearances of people and things. It is also a parallel means for expressing an idea of love in the world (as Dante said, it would be discourteous for a lover to address his lady in Latin), an idea of love that is founded in experience, in the ways people ac­tually speak, see, and feel. As such, the rules of engagement with this new art, like those governing the creation and reception of vernacular poetry, require careful investigation and defi­ni­tion. It is Jean Campbell’s great merit, in several remarkable studies of Simone Martini’s Maestà, completed in 1315 and sig­nifi­cantly “renovated” in 1321, to have been the first to have fully grasped the historical import and interpretive centrality of the intersection of courtly vernacular lyric panegyric and vernacular style in Trecento painting, put­ting this to revelatory critical use.20 Not least of the many innovations in Simone’s extraordinary fresco is that, as recent restoration has shown, the Madonna was altered in the artist’s 1321 reworking, so that she astonishingly uncovers her hair (Fig. 6). Moreover, it is blonde. Her appearance in 1315 can be imagined by comparing her to the Madonna in the Maestà painted two years later, in 1317, by Simone’s relative Lippo Memmi in 43

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture the Palazzo Communale of San Gimignano. The positioning of her body so exactly replicates that of Simone’s Madonna that it might have been drawn from the same cartoon, and he modestly veiled head no doubt also replicates Simone’s original depiction. By contrast to Simone’s “renovation” of her in 1321, Duccio, in his Maestà, installed in the cathedral of Siena in 1311, just ten years before, shows the Virgin in the traditional way, as a Byzantine Hodegetria with hair completely covered (Fig. 7). So far as I know, the crowned Madonna with uncovered blonde hair is unprecedented in Ital­ian painting. Yet Simone’s uncovering the Madonna’s blonde hair has gone virtually unnoticed in the literature. (As has the fact that her facial features—almond eyes, nose like a reed, black eyebrows arced like tiny bows—also accord with the normative conventions of effictio [or descriptio pulchritudinis] as inherited from the Frenchmen Geoffrey of Vinsauf and Matthew of Vendôme for describing the beloved’s beauty in vernacular lyric.) The notable exceptions are Enzo Carli, in a truly remarkable essay, and Beat Brenk, for whom the uncovering of blonde hair was clearly a shock. In Brenk’s words, “The grandiose creative impulse of Duccio’s Maestà, installed on the high altar of the Duomo in 1311, is at once manifest in Simone’s fresco of 1315 in the Sala del Consiglio, a setting that did not require an altar, and he absolutely dared [italics mine] to paint the Madonna as blonde, dressed à la mode, surrounded by stemmi identifying her as a protectress of the Angevins, the governing Guelph party, and the Sienese people.”21 Brenk’s shock does not end there: “While the text written on the 44

Fig. 6. Simone Martini, Maestà (detail), Palazzo Pubblico, Siena.

45

Fig. 7. Duccio di Buoninsegna, Maestà (detail), Museo dell’Opera Metropolitana, Siena.

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courtly lyric i rotulus held by Christ addresses the members of the Consiglio in Latin, the Mother of God without embarrassment instead speaks to the saints in Ital­ian, as though this had always been her native language, and she frankly uses the expression ‘la mia terra’ to refer to the territories over which Siena extended its dominion.”22 Brenk omitted to note, although it is crucial, that the inscriptions rec­ording her words also show the Madonna speaking in terza rima, a verse form generally believed to have been invented by Dante for the Commedia, which had, however, not yet been completed at the time Simone painted his Maestà.23 Although apparently unprecedented in painting, Simone’s Madonna with blonde hair does have precedent in sculpture, notably in the pulpits by Nicola and Giovanni Pisano, in which the Virgin’s hair is revealed, and which still carry traces of polychromy and gilding. Max Seidel has shown that the pulpits had both secular and religious uses, functioning as stages in knighting ceremonies that “proclaimed the rank and power of the owners and were of immense ceremonial importance both to the Church and to city governments.” He further cites an inventory of 1435 describing the Pisa pulpit as “a large pulpit of porphyry and alabaster at the foot of the choir, standing on columns supported by lions, with many stories cut in relief and sculptured with the story of our Lord up to the Last Judgment, applied with colors and gold” (uno pergolo grande, di porfide e alabastro, a piei il coro, sta in sulle colonne, sottovi leoni, e più storie intagliate rilevati è scolpite della storia di nostro Singore insino al Giu49

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture ditio, messe a colore e a oro).24 Nicola’s precocious awareness of Roman models, no doubt on the basis of his early experiences in Apulia as well as in Pisa itself, is well documented. More fundamental to his art, however, is his grounding in the schemata of French Gothic sculptural and decorative conventions, which, many say, he was the first to import into Tuscany. Seidel has noted, as indeed Enzo Carli had many years earlier, Nicola’s extensive and precise knowledge of French figurative language as transmitted in ivories, tabernacles, portable altars, jewel boxes, diptychs, reliquaries, and the like, and recent scholarship has supplemented this observation in exact and minute detail. The particular motif of the Madonna with exposed golden hair, first appearing in Italy with Nicola’s sculptured pulpits before being ­adopted in painting with Simone’s Maestà, is a direct derivation from French courtly art, numerous examples being founded from the late twelfth and thirteenth centuries in Gothic miniatures and ivories from the School of Paris (Fig. 8). The most famous example of all, of course, is the Vierge d’orée of 1240–45 adorning the portal of the south transept at Amiens, which recent restoration has shown was in polychrome, with a blue gilt-­trimmed robe and golden hair. There can be no doubt, however, that the example of some French Gothic ivory Madonna (or possibly manuscript illumination), rather than monumental cathedral sculpture, served as the immediate prototype for Simone. Although Brenk took note of Simone’s innovations—the Madonna’s sumptuous dress, for example, her speaking in the 50

Fig. 8. Unknown artist, Virgin and Child, Louvre, Paris.

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courtly lyric i vernacular tongue, and above all her uncovered blonde hair— their profound sig­nifi­cance was grasped only by Enzo Carli. Expressing a sense of the wonderment that inevitably must accompany the stunning realization that one has stumbled across a genuine turning point in the his­tory of human consciousness, Carli recognized in Simone’s fresco an absolutely new figurative vernacular (“uno nuovo volgare figurativo”), writing that “the appearance of the Maestà by Simone Martini on the wall of the Palazzo Pubblico of Siena constituted an enormous event, not only for painting, but also for the entire civilization of fourteenth-­century Europe.” He added that the spirit and sense of that civilization “cannot be fully grasped only by ritually invoking the literary achievements of a Dante, Petrarch, or Boccaccio, without taking into account the contributions of the greatest figurative artists, from the Pisani to Arnolfo di Cambio, and from Giotto and Duccio to Simone Martini. For in a profound sense it is true that, just as the wellspring of the Ital­ian dolce stil novo is founded in an assimilation of vernacular courtly poetic traditions developed by the French troubadours and transmitted by them to southern Italy as well as to Bohemia, Eng­land, and the rest of Europe (where they were always accompanied by vigorous promotion of the vernacular tongues in both religious and secular contexts), so too is it true that the new courtly art emerging in Simone’s Maestà took its inspiration from the same great flowering of French High Gothic courtly culture. For this reason, I am reluctant to abandon, as has become fashionable, the characterization of such art, both north and 53

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture south of the Alps, from Bohemia to Eng­land as well as in Italy, as partaking in an International Style. With regard to Simone’s fresco for the Sala del Consiglio, Carli noted that Duccio had taken the essential first steps to be sure, but in comparison to the “schietta e integra sacra­ lità” of the Queen of Heaven depicted in Duccio’s Maestà, taking well-­established Byzantine models as its point of departure, he found in Simone’s Madonna “the choicest lady in a celestial court modeled on the courts of this earth.” He continued: The unadorned and integral sacrality of [Duccio’s Madonna] was infused by Simone with more living accents, a capacity for engaging the viewer, an immediate veracity, and an almost carnal charm [un fascino quasi carnale]—pardon my recourse to so profane a term—perhaps I should say “stilnovisticamente cortese”—owing to her extremely blonde hair, which falls from beneath her veil and frames her tender rosy cheeks, her slender nose like a straight reed, her buoyant mouth, slightly swollen and palpable, and her high, luminous forehead. Her lineaments are more incisive [than the Madonna’s as painted by Duccio] and precisely limned in the perfect arches of her eyebrows and in her elongated and sweetly matched eyes. It is a divine beauty, but it is also terrestrial. I do not doubt that Simone Martini investigated its properties thoroughly, though with an exalted poetic afflatus and imagination, following that descriptio pulchritudinis according to which each member and aspect of it was passed in review. . . . Exaltation of the Madonna as queen, as “quella nobil pulcella che in ciel porta corona,” often recurs in Ital­ 54

courtly lyric i ian religious lyric of the second half of the thirteenth century, in which, among other things, were infused motifs from the poetry of the French court, an example being the well-­ known little poem by Fra Giacomino da Verona en­ti­tled De Ierusalem celesti .  .  . but the most concise, and, I would say, striking defi­ni­tion of the Madonna as Queen of Heaven appears to me immediately recognizable at the onset of Jacopone da Todi’s first lauda, where he addresses her, calling her “O regina cortese,” not meaning that she is endowed with that cortesia or benignity of soul that we find in the “cortesia” of the poets of the dolce stil novo and Dante, but rather that she pertains to a court, as can be deduced from the many times in which Jacopone uses this term.25

It is a great pity that in his final words Carli suf­fered a failure of nerve and considerably weakened the force of his fundamental and essential perception by backing away from Jacopone and Simone’s truly revolutionary and deeply beautiful conception of the Madonna as the wellspring for an idea of cortesia, instead limiting Jacopone’s invocation of her as “O regina cortese” to its least inclusive form: a member of a court. To this point I shall return. However, notwithstanding the truth of his observation that Simone had revolutionized representation (and hence perception) of the Madonna by reimagining the Queen of Heaven as the courtly donna of the troubadours, it is im­por­tant to reaf­firm that Duccio had in fact led the way. As Hans Belting has written, Duccio in his Maestà for the cathedral had integrated two separate ­genres, the Marian panel and the polyptych, into a single uni­fied 55

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture field.26 At the center, as in Duccio’s own Rucellai Madonna of 1285, appears the traditional image of the enthroned Madonna Hodegetria, which before had stood alone. Her derivation from the earlier model is made especially evident by the artist’s retention of the triangular form of the old pediment. The saints gathered around her refer back formally to the polyptych, in which, as a rule, they appeared as a series of half-­length icons. No model existed for standing full-­length saints, identical in size to the angels with whom they gather around the throne. Nor, crucially, was there a model for their appearance together with the four principal patron saints of  the city, also of identical scale, shown kneeling in supplication in the foreground. In Belting’s words, thus Duccio “shift[ed] the iconography from the universal heavenly church to the terrestrial Sienese commune” represented by the city’s patrons. Conventional neither as an altarpiece nor as a cult image, but subsuming both into a uni­fied space, this circumstance, as well as the Maestà’s inscription and the civic festivities arranged by the city for its transfer from Duccio’s studio to the high altar of the cathedral, all emphasize the role of the city, the value of the commune’s gift to the Madonna, the artist himself, and the beauty of his work. At this point, in Belting’s larger argument, the cult image (Bild) begins its metamorphosis into the work of art (Kunst). Duccio painted the Queen of Heaven and her court, to be  sure, but, the traditional gold background of his painting notwithstanding, by setting the Madonna and her court within a uni­fied spatial field, he also brought the heaven she 56

courtly lyric i inhabits into a coherent relationship to the living experience of the spectator, a closeness again underscored by the inscription. The implications were at once grasped by Simone, who took the next crucial step, a giant one, depicting the Madonna in a guise not Latin and certainly not Greek, but rather limned in the colors of new and contemporary Ital­ian vernacular experience, especially as founded in the French courtly culture established in the Anjou court at Naples. She has forsaken the permanence of heaven for the contingency of an idea of love in the world, no ­longer enthroned as the Queen of Heaven but presented both as the Queen of a terrestrial court and as a kind of troubadour’s Queen of the May, shaded by a royal pavilion beneath the bluest of skies and receiving offers of roses and lilies from her attendant angels.27 Her padiglione is adorned with the arms of the city, those of the French royal house, and those of the Anjou of Naples. Indeed, as Jean Campbell and Diana Norman have both recently pointed out, this royal pavilion replicates in form and heraldry the ac­tual ceremonial baldachins commissioned at no little cost by the city of Siena for the occasion of a royal adventus as enacted for a sequence of Angevin royal visits that took place between 1310 and 1327. Moreover, as Alessandro Bagnoli observed, the Madonna wears the Angevin crown, distinctly French Gothic in style and in fact derived from the French royal crown, its points formed by fleurs-­de-­lys alternating with smaller sprigs of ivy. Simone had twice represented an identical crown in his St. Louis of Toulouse Crowning Robert of Anjou, painted in 1317 to com57

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture memorate Louis’s canonization in that year (Fig. 9). It first appears suspended by angels over the saint’s head, and is again shown being bestowed by Louis on his brother, King Robert.28 Moreover, the Madonna’s corona alla francese is complemented by the metallic throne on which she sits, which may well derive from ac­tual French and Angevin royal models, though this is unprovable. It is Gothic in design (more francigeno, in Bagnoli’s words), and constructed in a way that is distinctly reminiscent of the great northern cathedrals, although rendered with gilded surfaces that even more directly invoke, as Luciano Bellosi has shown, the re­fined metal and goldsmith work displayed in such liturgical objects as the even more miniaturized architecturally designed reliquaries.29 The material ac­tuality of the rendering of the Madonna’s crown and throne pertains to her costume as well, which is not merely à la mode, as Brenk rather too generically described it. It reproduces an ac­tual garment of breathtakingly sumptuous luxuriousness. It is studded with jewels, trimmed in golden thread, and made of an imported silk fabric woven with an interlaced pattern that Brigitte Klesse iden­ti­fied as Tatar (i.e., Ukrainian). Simone had unquestionably seen the fabric and used it as a model not only for the Maestà but also for his later frescoes for the Chapel of St. Martin in the lower church at Assisi.30 It is small wonder that a century later, sometime before 1429, Symeon, the Greek Orthodox ­bishop of Thessalonica, voiced strong opposition to the secularized images of the Madonna and saints that had by then become ubiquitous in 58

Fig. 9. Simone Martini, Saint Louis of Toulouse Crowning His Brother Robert of d’Anjou, Museo Nazionale di Capodimonte, Naples.

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courtly lyric i Italy. There was, after all, Lorenzo Monaco’s blonde Madonna in the Annunciation from the San Procolo polyptych (which of course follows Simone’s own Annunciation of 1333 for the Duomo in Siena) and the Hermitage Madonna of ­Humility convincingly at­trib­uted to Fra Angelico by Miklos Boskovitz and dated to around 1419. An especially impressive early example appears in Vitale da Bologna’s Madonna dei Denti, painted for the Oratory of Sant’Apollonia at Mezzaratta in 1345, in whose costume and portrayal both tra­ ditional and courtly elements are artfully combined. The Madonna wears a head cover and mantle emblazoned with heraldic rampant gilded griphons. Her blonde hair is clearly visible beneath a transparent wimple in a style worn by ladies of the court in the days before wimples went out of fashion and came to be worn only by nuns. And beneath her serene forehead, black arched eyebrows, serious eyes, and reedlike nose, her lips are parted in a smile, revealing tiny pearl-­like teeth—hence her sobriquet, the Madonna dei Denti—that the endlessly repeated conventions of descriptio pulchritudinis invariably liken to the opening of paradise to the beholder. For the Greek Symeon such images gave evidence that the Latins “desire an existence that is perceptible to the senses, for in vain they take trouble to observe visible phenomena and those created things that are subject to change; they serve the created world instead of the Creator . . . put­ting their con­fi­ dence only in the knowledge of what is trifling, and they stupidly do not consider that there is something above what is perceptible to the senses and the human mind . . . whereas 61

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture [for us Greeks] the holy icons have been piously established in honor of their divine prototypes.”31 About a de­cade later, Gregory of Melissenus, a member of the Greek delegation to the Council of Ferrara in 1438, similarly complained to the patriarch of Constantinople, Joseph II, “When I enter a Latin church I do not revere any of the saints that are there because I do not recognize them. At most, I may recognize Christ, but I do not revere him either since I do not know in what terms he is inscribed. So I make the sign of the cross and I revere this sign I have made myself, not anything I have seen there.”32 Presumably, neither Symeon nor Gregory would have had much dif­fi­culty in recognizing in Duccio’s Madonna Rucellai the divine prototype of the Madonna as sanctioned by centuries-­old Byzantine traditions. By the same token they would not have acknowledged her as she appears in Simone’s Maestà, blonde hair scandalously uncovered, luxuriously dressed in imported Tatar silks, appearing as a species of Angevin queen seated beneath her royal pavilion decorated with secular coats of arms, accompanied by the members of her court. The cause of their discomfiture with such representations Symeon most acutely iden­ti­fied as the artist’s concern to portray the visible phenomena of the created world, or what I would call their vernacular address,  appealing in the instance of Simone’s Maestà to the common experiences of each living in­hab­i­tant of the Sienese commune.33 Simone’s Madonna could not possibly be, for Symeon, the queen of an eternal Heaven. She is instead lo62

courtly lyric i cated in the contingencies of worldly existence, a secular sovereign presiding over a court of this earth. As we have seen, Enzo Carli recognized the wellspring of Simone’s new vision of the Madonna in vernacular courtly lyric. Silently quoting from Giacomino da Verona’s De Ierusalem celesti, Carli correctly saw in Simone’s Madonna “quella nobil pulcella che in ciel porta corona,” thus embodying an idea of cortesia celebrated by poets of the stil novo and adapted in religious verse by Giacomino and Jacopone da Todi in his first lauda, in which the Virgin is invoked with the words “O regina cortese.” However, for whatever reason, he recoiled from the implications of this perception and took refuge in courtly conventions. The effect is like releasing the air from a balloon, depriving Jacopone’s lauda of its very poetic afflatus, which depends entirely on maintaining the tension between its celestial subject and her secular manifestation. Nor is it manifestly the meaning intended by Giacomino, who writes of the Queen of Heaven praised by angels and saints in floral metaphors remarkably prescient of Simone’s Maestà: “Tant è alta e granda quella gentil pulcella / che li angeli e li sancti de lei parla e favella, / emperciò ch’ el’ è più precïosa e bella / che no è la fior del prà, né la rosa novella.” He concludes his apostrophe to the Virgin’s beauty with the words “Dondo una enumerable celeste compagna / tutore la salua con ogni cortesia.”34 Only Jean Campbell has dared to follow the interpretive imperatives for un­der­stand­ing the foundation to Simone’s 63

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture imagery in vernacular lyric panegyric to their inescapable conclusion. She recognized in his fresco the depiction of a royal adventus: the Madonna is seated with her court in a royal pavilion that can be linked in form and heraldry to ac­ tual ceremonial baldachins commissioned by Siena on the occasions of of­fi­cial Angevin royal visits between 1310 and 1327.35 She further appears as a kind of Queen of the May receiving floral offerings, and Campbell accordingly drew ­attention to the sig­nifi­cant ties between this imagery and that, not only of religious laude but also of such civic rituals as the celebration of Calendimaggio.36 As she notes, Simone’s Madonna is cast explicitly in the role of the lyric beloved (amanza) in the same sense that Dante portrayed Beatrice in the Vita nuova and that Guido Guinizelli openly likened his love for his lady to his love of God in the canzone Al cor gentil: “Tenne d’angel sembianza / che fosse del tuo regno; / non me fu fallo s’ eo li posa amanza.”37 And, in the Bolognese poet’s imagination, this donna angelicata appears in the eternally springtime colors of paradise itself: Io voglio del ver la mia donna laudare Ed assembrarli la rosa e lo giglio: Più che stella dïana splende e pare, e ciò ch’è lassù bello e lei somiglio.38

The imagery is strikingly reminiscent of Simone’s image of the Madonna in the Maestà, where indeed imagery of the spring is invoked in the incomplete triplet of vernacular verse that appears on its frame, dating the fresco to 1315, and, like 64

courtly lyric i Guinizelli, referring to the season when Diana (here called Delia) had brought forth all her lovely flowers and the month of May turns to June: Mille trecento quindici vol[gea] [e] Delia avia ogni bel fior spinto [e] Juno già gridava imi rivoll[o]39

The same is true of the words spoken by the Madonna herself, inscribed on her throne, and addressed to the angels who offer her roses and lilies: Li angelichi fiorecti, rose e gigli, Onde s’adorna lo celeste prato, Non mi dilettan più che I buon consigli . . .40

In 1336, twenty-­one years after completing, signing, and dating the Maestà in 1315, and fif­teen years after altering it in 1321, Simone arrived at the papal court in Avignon, where he lived until his death in 1344. It was there that for the first time he met Petrarch, whose personal copy of Virgil Simone graced with his famous frontispiece. By Petrarch’s own testimony, written later on the first guard-­leaf of this same copy of Virgil, the lady Laura had first appeared to his eyes in the church of Santa Clara on the sixth day of April in 1327, six years after Simone had last put his brush to the Maestà. He rec­ords that she died on the same day in 1348. “I am persuaded,” Petrarch wrote, “that her soul returned, as Seneca says of Scipio Africanus, to the heaven [from] whence it came.”41 Petrarch also indicted two poems (Rime sparse, 65

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture ­ XXVII and LXVIII) in praise of a portrait of Laura L limned by Simone Martini. In the first one, he wrote: Ma certo il mio Simone fu in paradiso, Onde questa gentil donna si parte; Ivi la vide e ritrasse in carte, Per far fede qua giù del suo bel viso.42

In both sonnets, Petrarch seems clearly to be referring to a drawing in metalpoint on paper (in the second sonnet he writes that Simone “gli pose in man lo stile”), but no matter. For the larger point is that, even before painting Laura, Simone had beheld the heavenly prototype of her perfect beauty and cortesia in paradise, and had already painted her in the Maestà.

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Courtly Lyric II

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SANDRO B OTTICELLI A ND PO LIZ IANO : HUMANI ST LEARNING AND THE VERNACULAR

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t will, I hope, be apparent that the scholars to whom I have referred have responded to valid perceptions in making their arguments: Ulrike Ilg’s emphasis (with a pedigree going back to Thode and Boccaccio) on the new naturalism of Trecento art and its celebration of the natural world; Beat Brenk’s insistence (also with a distinguished pedigree) on the centrality of the new narrative techniques in the painting of the period; Jean Campbell’s stress on the parallel interpretive strategies employed in painting and the courtly poetry of the stil novo; and Hans Belting’s deservedly in­flu­en­tial distinction between the era of the cult image (Bild) and the newly emerging age of art (Kunst). Moreover, in two shorter studies that have not yet enjoyed the same in­flu­ence as his book, Belting underscored the centrality to the discussion of what he called 69

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture volksprachliche Gebildeten, that is, vernacular painting.1 He noted in particular the sudden and unexpected appearance of frescoes (and paintings), such as those painted on Cola da Rienzo’s house in Rome, that combined the new naturalism with extended inscriptions in the vernacular, either in prose or (as in Simone’s Maestà) in verse. I have myself devoted two books, one on Botticelli’s Primavera, the other on the Renaissance spiritello, to case studies of the interaction of painted imagery and vernacular forms of expression. I argued that no matter how classical the subjects of paintings such as Botticelli’s Primavera and London Mars and Venus may be, their imagery—the costumes and actions of the gods represented—is rooted in the Florentine present.2 They are imagined in accordance with the conventions of vernacular lyric, and they can be understood only in terms of the rules and critical decorum regulating the writing of such verse. I have also essayed an answer to Warburg’s old question, still crucial, of what it was about antiquity that “interested” artists of the Quattrocento, who presented the fig­ures of ancient fable “not as plaster casts, but in person, as fig­ures full of life and color,” just as they were enacted in the civic rituals and feasts of the city. For in my view the Renaissance never was—as both Thode and Warburg also realized—a “revival” or even an uninflected renovation of the “classical” (as we have seen, a term that then had no meaning), but rather the assimilation over time, or even the transposition of ancient and medieval modes into a new expression based in the life of the present. In this respect, the 70

courtly lyric ii concept of different modes of vernacular style, expression, and content can provide what might be called a uni­fied field theory, also capable, so far as Simone Martini is concerned, of assimilating and clarifying all the various interpretive approaches outlined above. Scholarly discussions of the imagery of Simone’s Maestà have tended to treat this as an iconographical prob­lem narrowly de­fined, and in particular have focused on the po­lit­i­cal context of a fresco that was, after all, created for the council chamber of the governing body of the city and territories of Siena.3 The po­lit­i­cal context of the Maestà—in which the Virgin addresses the members of the council through the angels and patron saints who intercede with her, and through her with the infant Christ, on the commonwealth’s behalf— is of course fundamental to Simone’s imagery. It is indeed central to the vernacular conception of the fresco and a clear indication that the Madonna is there presented in a terrestrial manifestation, as the prototype for a royal and chivalric idea of, and as even the personification of, cortesia. She appears in the guise of a French queen of the house of Anjou, and as having responded to prayers invoking her presence as patron and protector of Siena and its dominions (“La mia terra”), into which, formally enthroned beneath a royal pavilion, she makes her ceremonial adventus. Political content, to be sure; however, po­lit­i­cal content is not one-­dimensional in its representational possibilities, and in art it appears, like any other subject, in many different guises and ­genres. For extreme contrast, consider the satirical cartoons of James Gil71

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture ray set against the profoundly learned classical panegyric painted by Peter Paul Rubens in encomiastic praise of Marie de Médicis; or, more to the point, Ambrogio Lorenzetti’s scholastic gathering of virtues and vices painted in the room adjacent to the Sala del Consiglio as a Speculum principis addressed to the ministers of the Sovereign City-­State of Siena, as personified in his Allegory of Good Government. Jean Campbell has pointed the way toward resolving the tension between po­lit­i­cal ends and poetic means by noting the distinction Dante made between vernacular poetry and what he called municipal verse, in his estimation inevitably fated to become the instrument of contingent po­lit­i­cal interests and factions (for which reason his teacher Brunetto Latini appears among the sodomites in Hell).4 Simone’s Maestà is indeed po­lit­i­cal; but it is, like Dante’s Commedia, po­lit­i­cal in the most profound sense. In the case of Simone, the po­lit­i­cal context of the Maestà is subject to a fully integrated and holistic poetic idea of cortesia. In the first chapter, I examined the revolutionary import and consequences of Simone Martini’s portrayal of the Madonna in the Maestà, which presents the Virgin enthroned beneath a pavilion emblazoned with the arms of France, the Angevins of Naples, and the Guelph party of Siena. Her padiglione signifies that she is being honored by the celebration of a royal adventus as she arrives to take possession of the city, which had only recently (in 1260) been placed under her protection together with its territories, all of which she lays claim to by calling it la mia terra. Moreover, in sharp contrast 72

courtly lyric ii to the Madonna in Duccio’s Maestà, and also to her original appearance in Simone’s own fresco before he reworked it in 1321, she is presented as the prototype for a courtly idea of cortesia, with her sumptuous dress, blonde hair, and carefully limned features expressing normative conventions regulating de­scrip­tions of the beloved’s beauty in vernacular lyric poetry. Though this was their first appearance in Italy, these conventions originated not only in Geoffrey of Vinsauf ’s Poetria nova but also in French Gothic art of the School of Paris. So im­por­tant is this importation of a French courtly aesthetic that I have resisted abandoning the term “International Style” to denominate that major trend in the arts of which Simone himself is a leading representative. On the contrary, a crucial moment in the story of the dawning Renaissance may be de­fined, as it has been for poetry, by the importation of vernacular French conventions and courtly values and by their adaptation into new forms of expression in the vernaculars of Italy, both in language and the visual arts. From the moment Simone completed his revision of the Maestà in 1321, the older usages of the maniera greca faded with astonishing speed, and blonde Madonnas in contemporary costumes, or mod­i­fi­ca­tions thereof, proliferated in Ital­ian art. Passing over hundreds of earlier examples (it seems invidious to single out Vitale da Bologna, Giovanni da Milano, Starnina, Lorenzo Monaco, and Masolino, from so many), I will indicate one from a century and a half later, Botticelli’s exquisite Madonna del Padiglione, now in the Poldi-­Pezzoli Museum in 73

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Milan (Fig. 10). The Virgin is presented simultaneously as the Madonna lactans and as a kind of Madonna of Humility, kneeling upon the ground. Although she is not enthroned, her royal sta­tus is indicated by the baldachin that two angels prepare for her. Her golden hair is revealed through a sheer veil of contemporary manufacture (made from tela di rensa, or cloth from Reims, as the finest and most transparent of these veils are named in inventories). She wears a yellow striped scarf and, beneath the blue cloak that iden­ti­fies her as the Madonna (for by this date only older ­women and nuns wore such robes), there appears a contemporary red gonna with ties at the sleeves, allowing her underlying camicia to appear in pleasing puffs (called fenestrelle, or “little windows,” in inventories) at the forearms, a fashion that came into being in the 1470s. And this brings us to the subject of the present chapter, which is Botticelli’s treatment of courtly beauty as manifest in paintings of both pagan themes, as in the Birth of Venus, and religious ones, as in the Madonna della Melagrana, in which the ancient goddess of love and the Madonna are imagined virtually as twin sisters. As discussed in the last chapter, in Renaissance and Renascences Erwin Panofsky formulated for pre-­Renaissance art his famous “law of disjunction,” according to which classical subject matter was invariably kept separate from classical style. He advanced the bold argument that the true Renaissance occurred only when classical forms of expression (embodying pathos, in Aristotelian terms) were for the first time united with classical content (or ethos). In his view, this hap74

Fig. 10. Sandro Botticelli, Madonna del Padiglione, Pinacoteca Ambrosiana, Milan.

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courtly lyric ii pened in the late years of the fif­teenth century with Mantegna in Padua and Botticelli in Florence. His prime example was Botticelli’s Birth of Venus (Fig. 11), in which the expressive forms giving flesh and substance to his classical subject, the ancient goddess of love and beauty, were derived from an authentically classical statue of Venus known generically as the Venus pudica (shamefaced, or modest, Venus) and from its most famous exemplar, the Medici Venus (Fig. 12). Botticelli subtly adapted the de­fin­ing characteristics of this prototype, in which the goddess shields her breasts and pudenda with her hands.5 In the very act of concealing her sex she simultaneously presses her mag­nifi­cent blonde locks against her thighs, a detail that not only signifies her modesty but also carries an additional meaning, that of pressing the saltwater of the sea from her hair. The latter insight derives from the greatest classical philologist—and greatest vernacular poet—of the century, Angelo Poliziano. In a celebrated verse from his most famous vernacular poem, Stanze cominciate per la giostra di Giuliano de’Medici, completed in 1479, Poliziano described a relief sculptured on the door of Venus’s palace that showed the goddess on a conch shell wafted to shore by zephyrs. So marvelous was the artist’s handiwork, wrote Poliziano, that “you would say the foam was real, and the sea real, and real the shell, and real the blowing wind. . . . You could swear the goddess emerges from the waves, pressing her hair with her right hand [premendo colla destra il crino] and covering with her other hand her sweet mound of flesh [coll’altra il dolce pome ricoprissi].”6 Only the most hopeless pedant would object that 77

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Botticelli reversed the spe­cific actions of Venus’s right and left hands when he imagined Venus’s pose. Poliziano’s de­ scrip­tion of Venus sovra un nicchio, emerging from the white foam of the sea and blown to shore by zefiri lascivi, has, with very few exceptions, been taken as fundamental to Botticelli’s visualization of Venus, ever since the relationship between the poem and the painting was first pointed out by Giovanni Rosini in 1841, followed by Adolph Gaspary in 1888, and given its definitive demonstration by Aby Warburg in 1893. The relationship is especially explicit in the double meaning of Botticelli’s depiction of Venus’s gesture, covering her sex with one hand while at the same time pressing her hair against her loins. From Poliziano’s de­scrip­tion of Venus Anadyomene—the foam-­born Venus—and especially in the verse il dolce pome ricoprisse, it is clear that he imagined he had discovered an even more ancient prototype for the Roman statue of the Venus pudica. This was the Greek painter Apelles’ highly celebrated painting of Venus Anadyomene, no ­longer extant, which all the ancient writers describe as a Venus pressing seawater from her hair. The redoubtable Herbert Horne was the first to point this out, in 1908, though this has gone all but unnoticed in the literature.7 He observed that Poliziano’s de­ scrip­tion in the Stanze of Venus rising from the sea undoubtedly was inspired by a group of five Greek epigrams in the Planudean Anthology praising Apelles’ masterpiece, in imitation of which Poliziano wrote a Greek epigram of his own on the Venus Anadyomene. In the last year of his life, Poli­ 78

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Fig. 11. Sandro Botticelli, Birth of Venus, Uffizi, Florence.

Fig 12. Venus de’ Medici, Uffizi, Florence.

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courtly lyric ii ziano sent some of his Greek epigrams to Antonio Urceo Codro in Bologna, urging him to “read first what I have written in imitation of not a few ancient writers on the Venus of Apelles, which our Pliny calls Anadyomene and worthily describes.”8 In this epigram, he describes Venus “with her right hand wringing out the drops of the sea with which her head is drenched .  .  . and with her left hand covering her sex.”9 However, not one of the epigrams in the Planudean Anthology describes the goddess covering her sex (that is, none characterize her as a Venus pudica), but instead make clear that Apelles showed her wringing the seawater from her hair with both hands.10 This is a detail con­firmed by countless derivations from Apelles’ prototype in Roman and Byzantine art, and accordingly Titian’s Venus Anadyomene in the Ellesmere Collection shows the goddess squeezing water from her hair with both hands. Poliziano’s epigram and his earlier de­scrip­ tion of Venus in the Stanze (“premendo colla destra il crino, coll’altra il dolce pomo ricoprisse”) are unique in imagining the goddess’s hands engaged in different actions. This circumstance con­firms that he and he alone mistakenly imagined Apelles’ Venus as the prototype for the Medici Venus pudica, no doubt mediated by Ovid’s famous evocation of Apelles’ painting in a verse from the Ars amatoria: nuda Venus madidas exprimit imbre comas [“the nude Venus presses the locks of her hair drenched in the sea”].11 This unique detail further con­firms that Botticelli must have consulted Poliziano for the goddess’s pose in the Birth of Venus, although it created for the artist a conundrum that he elegantly resolved by investing 83

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture her gesture with a double meaning. He painted Venus covering her breasts with one hand and her dolce pomo with the other, thus sig­nifying her modesty (pudicitia) through a direct visual allusion to the Roman Venus pudica. And with the same gesture she presses her hair against her body, and thus asserts her identity (and artistic rivalry) with Apelles’ foam-­born Venus rising from the sea. The interde­pen­dence of Poliziano’s reconstruction of Apelles’ Venus Anadyomene on the basis of the statue of Venus pudica and Botticelli’s depiction of the goddess in his Birth of Venus constitutes a hapax legomenon and can be explained only by assuming a collaboration between the humanist and the painter in imagining Venus’s appearance. Furthermore, a growing body of evidence points very spe­cifi­cally to Botticelli’s intimacy with Poliziano, particularly in the creation of Botticelli’s so-­called mythologies. To begin with a minor example, Poliziano in his Detti piacevoli, the collection of vernacular motti and facezie he assembled between the summer of 1479 and mid-­1482, rec­ords no fewer than three of Botticelli’s arguzie, one of them a cle­ver quad­ru­ple pun: “The other day Sandro Botticelli uttered to me a pleasing play on words: ‘Questo vetro chi ‘l votrà? Vo’ tre, e io v’atrò’” (“Who will empty this glass? You’ll want three, and I’ll help them.” In more accessible Ital­ian, “Chi vuoterà questo bicchiere [=vetro]? Voi tre, e io vi aiuterò”).12 This, at the very least, documents Poliziano’s easy familiarity with Botticelli, whose ready wit and love of jokes Vasari also mentions, and whose fond84

courtly lyric ii ness for drink is affectionately satirized in Lorenzo de’ Me­ dici’s poem I Beoni. More to the point, I have already shown in my book on Botticelli’s Primavera that the philological elegance and consistency of the various classical texts assembled for the invention of that painting (which does not simply illustrate a single text but is rather a new poetic invention created on the basis of multiple classical sources that bear a true philological relation to one another) could have been accomplished only by a humanist scholar and poet of Poliziano’s caliber. The texts all pertain to Venus and her companions as deities of the springtime, including Mercury, whom previous scholars had been unable to identify with the season.13 Moreover, in the instance of Botticelli’s Mars and Venus there occurs another hapax uniquely linking the painter to the humanist, namely, the paniscus trumpeting into Mars’s ear through a conch shell. The meaning of this image should be understood with reference to Poliziano’s celebrated Miscellanea, the collection of short essays written to propose solutions to various philological knots, which was published in 1489, or some four to five years after the Mars and Venus was painted.14 There we learn that the origin of the term “panic terrors” (panikoi phoboi) derives from an incident in the battle of the Olympian gods against the Titans, when Pan, seeing some conch shells by the seashore, armed himself and his woodland companions (i.e., the satyrs, fauns, panisci, and the like) with them. When they blew upon them, the enormous rever85

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture berating blast struck unreasoning terror into the Titans, causing them to flee the scene of battle. Ever since, writes Poli­ ziano, such irrational terrors were called “panics,” after the name of Pan himself; and he adds that such panics, frightening but essentially harmless phantasms, are aroused by obsessive imaginings and nightmares. This forces a radical alteration in the way Botticelli’s Mars and Venus is conventionally understood. Far from being shown the contented postcoital slumber of Mars, we have instead an image of the god of war tormented in sleep by the nightmare of Venus and her attendant sexual phantasms, personified by the ithyphallic panisci. It is an image that rather better conforms to Machiavelli’s account of the state of affairs in Florence in the years before the trauma of the Pazzi conspiracy. As he wrote in his Istorie fiorentine, the youth of the city, after an extended period of peace, had become softened and indifferent to any dangers from within or without, consuming themselves in idleness and various lascivie, caring only for wearing fine clothes and pleasing the ladies, and thus were vulnerable to the onslaughts of treachery and fortune. In Botticelli’s painting, we similarly see a Mars rendered paradoxically unmartial by Venus, much as Poliziano imagined him in the Stanze, which, I have suggested elsewhere, presents a similarly jaundiced view of the effeminate luxuriousness of Florentine youth when imperiled by maleficent Fortune. It would thus seem that no more compelling an illustration of Panofsky’s thesis could be desired. Venus Anadyomene is represented, assisted by humanist learning at the highest 86

courtly lyric ii level, in her essential classical character as the foam-­born goddess of love and the animating spirit of the renovatio mundi that takes place in the spring, the season over which she presides. As Venus Anadyomene she is depicted in her true classical form, ultimately derived from a Greek expressive archetype originating with Apelles, known only from literary sources, and mistakenly but ingeniously thought to be transmitted by the Roman statue of Venus pudica. Classical form and content are hence fully reunited in Botticelli’s Birth of Venus, which is, moreover, the first monumental representation of the nude goddess since antiquity itself. But is this the whole story? What did such a revival of the forms and contents of antiquity mean to Botticelli and his contemporaries? How did they envisage the antique in their imaginations? Panofsky partly begs this question by taking for granted the proposition that in Botticelli (and Poliziano) there is discernible the first step firmly taken toward a renewal in European art and culture of the permanent values of classicism, values that, as we have seen, were unquestioningly those only later asserted by Winckelmann. Moreover, in common with many mid-­twentieth-­century scholars, he found historical jus­tifi­ca­tion for this view in the Neoplatonism that was developed in Florence by Ficino and others under Medici patronage. This seemed to support the idea that Renaissance artists had sought to understand and assimilate already perfected classical forms that were appropriate to the expression of permanent truths, freed from the contingencies of mutating styles and fallible tastes. 87

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Such a purely abstract conception of Florentine classicism and its meaning for Botticelli’s contemporaries was radically different from that of Aby Warburg, Panofsky’s great predecessor and a pioneering scholar of Botticelli’s art. In his still fundamental doctoral dissertation, published in 1893, which took as its subject Botticelli’s Primavera and Birth of Venus, he instead found evidence of contemporary Florentine vernacular culture in these two paintings despite their classical subjects. As he stated in a prefatory note, he placed Botticelli’s celebrated favole in the context of “analogous ideas that appear in contemporary art theory and poetic literature, and thus exemplified what it was about antiquity that ‘interested’ the artists of the Quattrocento.” For him the early Renaissance was rooted in popular culture, in the living vernacular, and not in a vain attempt to revive a long dead ancient world. Warburg’s view, in sharp contrast to those of Panofsky and Chastel, was that: The antique as a source of poised and mea­sured beauty— the hallmark of its in­flu­ence, as we have known it since Winckelmann—still counted for comparatively little. The fig­ures of ancient myth appeared before Ital­ian society . . . in person, as fig­ures full of life and color, in the festival pageants through which pagan joie de vivre had kept its foothold in popular culture.

Warburg’s philological skills were impressive, indeed all but impregnable, and his analysis of Botticelli’s images in relation to poetry by Poliziano and his contemporaries, as well 88

courtly lyric ii as to their adaptations of a panoply of Greek and Latin models that Poliziano in particular assimilated, is among the best ever attempted. But his true goal was not simply to establish iconographic stemmata. It was rather “to trace, step by step, how artists and their advisors recognized the antique as a model that demanded an intensification of outward movement, and how they turned to antique sources whenever accessory forms—those of garments and hair—were to be represented in motion.”15 This is Warburg’s famous formulation of the concept of bewegtes Beiwerk, or accessories in agitated movement, and it is indeed the very opposite of Winckelmann’s even more famous de­scrip­tion of the foremost general characteristic of classical Greek art as “a noble simplicity and a quiet grandeur.” Warburg’s interests lay in the expressive powers of ancient art and literature, the profoundly emotive and irrational forces struggling beneath the artfully smooth surface of the old myths and stories, and how artists of the fif­teenth century adapted their emotive conventions (or “pathos formulae”) to their own circumstances in ways that were far from majestically serene or de­pen­dent upon an appeal to a classical norm. Accordingly Warburg, when writing of the Birth of Venus, focused attention on the transitory movements of Venus’s hair blown by the zephyrs with enough force so that she leans perilously to her left, slightly (and most unclassically) off-­ balance, as well as on the foam-­capped waves and the hair and garments, fly­ing in the breeze, of the Hour of Spring (Flora), who strides forward on the shore holding up a bil89

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture lowing cloak to mantle the goddess. He found the ancient models for such agitated movement not in the Medici Venus nor in the canonical monumental sculptures of antiquity, but in gems, sarcophagus reliefs, and neo-­Attic relief sculptures, which served as guides for rendering the graceful movements of living dancers in the festival pageants of the Florentine present. To these observations it might be added that Venus’s proportions are extraordinarily elongated. She is almost nine heads tall, in contrast to the Medici Venus’s six. The sinuous grace of her posture has been characterized proleptically as mannerist, and indeed it is quite likely that Botticelli was seeking to emulate a supreme quality that Pliny had claimed was unique to Apelles’ style, namely its grace (charis). This same quality was also at­trib­uted later to Parmigianino and most famously to Raphael and Guido Reni. However, it is much more likely, and certainly more historically plausible, that Botticelli’s idea of grace was founded not in antiquity but in the courtly style of Simone Martini’s Trecento and particularly in the characteristic S-­curve of French Gothic art. In the same way, despite the supreme philological sophistication informing the story told by the painting, which is based, thanks to Poliziano’s unparalleled humanist learning, on a profound knowledge of classical literature, Venus’s beauty and that of her companions is nonetheless expressed and can only be understood in obeisance to the conventions of contemporary vernacular love lyric.16 The contemporaneity of Botticelli’s vision of Venus is also borne out by the costume of Flora, who steps forward 90

courtly lyric ii on the shore to the right. Her gown is assuredly not ancient, but is instead a close rendering of a Florentine festival costume that Botticelli had ac­tually seen, the higher forms of which, as Warburg observed, were “true translations of life into art.” It is an ephemeral, quasi-­theatrical creation with floral decoration that is not woven but painted with cornflowers (fiordiligi, shown both in bud and in blossom), and it is strikingly similar to a festival costume represented in Jacopo del Sellaio’s Triumph of Chastity in the Museo Bandini in Fiesole, in which it is worn by one of the attendants of Chastity, who rides in an edifizio, or festival float.17 She is one of a group of dancers and, like Botticelli’s Flora in the Birth of Venus, is also dressed in a white camicia da giorno painted with blue cornflowers. Most im­por­tant of all, and most obvious, Botticelli’s Venus herself with her spectacular blonde hair, arched black eyebrows, and breasts like apples is not imagined in her antique guise but with all the at­trib­utes and colors describing the beloved’s beauty according to the normative conventions of the troubadour’s descriptio pulchritudinis. In this, above all, she is the spiritual sister of Laura, and even the Madonna as painted by Simone Martini. It is appropriate at this point to turn to another painting, the fascinating picture in Frankfurt generically titled A Young Woman in Mythological Guise, which until recently was at­trib­ uted to the school of Botticelli but which a growing consensus now ascribes to the master himself (Fig. 13).18 The lady has long been tentatively iden­ti­fied, controversially so, as Simonetta Cattaneo, the wife of Marco Vespucci, who died at 91

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture the age of twenty-­three and was mourned in verse by all the principal poets of Florence, including Lorenzo il Magnifico, who wrote no fewer than four sonnets lamenting her death. Simonetta also had a second, allegorical existence in Florentine romantic chivalry, having been the dama to whom Lo­ renzo’s brother Giuliano had dedicated his valor in the celebrated joust he won in 1475, immortalized by Poliziano in the Stanze cominciate per la giostra di Giuliano de’Medici. The extraordinary beauty depicted in the Frankfurt picture conforms not to any classical model, but to the well-­established normative conventions for representing the poet’s (as well as the preux chevalier’s) lady: golden tresses, high and serene forehead, arched eyebrows, alabaster skin tinged with rosy vermilion at the cheeks and lips. So stunning is the beauty of Botticelli’s image that it has sometimes been doubted that this is a portrait at all, but rather a purely imaginary ideal, such as may be seen in his Madonna del Magnificat, to which the painting may be compared stylistically. But of what consists her ideal quality, based as it is in vernacular rather than classical conventions? And does it differ materially from the idealism of Botticelli’s Portrait of Giuliano de’ Medici in the National Gallery in Washington (Fig. 18), which assuredly does represent an ac­tual person but one seen after death, as re-­created in memory? To answer this, I will first turn to a text written by the poet Luigi Pulci. This is a poem of the type known as a “frottola,” a form of traditional popularizing verse sung in the ordinary language of the streets that combines various highly stressed 92

Fig. 13. Sandro Botticelli, Idealized Portrait of a Lady (so-called Simonetta), Städel Museum, Frankfurt am Main.

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courtly lyric ii meters with exaggerated burlesque content and intonations. It is titled “Le galee per Quaracchi” (the Galleys for Quaracchi), and it describes the contents of two galleys loaded to the gunwales with all the cosmetics, jewelry, perfumes, veils, caps, hair adornments, dresses, and the like that would be required for the ladies over a weekend spent at Bernardo Rucellai’s villa at Quaracchi, situated on the banks of the Arno not far beyond the city walls to the east of Florence.19 Bernardo was married to Lorenzo de’ Medici’s sister Nannina de’ Medici (sometimes called la Quaracchina), and Lorenzo and his mother, Lucrezia Tornabuoni, were the poet’s exclusive sponsors and patrons. Pulci composed his frottola in 1471, as we know from a letter he wrote to Lorenzo in that year. The poem begins, “The galleys bound for Quaracchi spread their sails to the wind, a fleet commander I know not who from Spacciano taking them to safe harbor, together with two ship captains from Pinti and the Mugello, and a bursar from Capalle who consigned the cargo, which was to this effect,” which Pulci then gleefully catalogues in burlesque hyperbole. I shall not list ev­ery­thing itemized by Pulci, but only give something of the exaggerated nature of his frottola. The cargo included a huge vat filled to the brim with bionda, a substance used for dying hair blond; two wagonloads of sulfur alum for the same purpose; no fewer than six kegs of lemon water and watermelon water for treating warts, pimples, and other blemishes; a huge quantity of floured goose fat, and also arum and powdered squid, both used for treating facial skin; ten full barrels of acqua grana, a tinctured wa95

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture ter for reddening the cheeks and lips; a veritable flood of biacca, or white lead, which was used as a makeup foundation over which the acqua grana could be applied like paint; a hundred ampules of distilled egg whites and powdered snails for making the skin white and smooth; a paste of coral ground with brick tile, together with a sackful of charred antlers and sage, for whitening the teeth; a barrel of distilled water; a quantity of purified soap too large to count; and numerous depilatories, pumice, and razors for broadening the brow by shaving the hairline and for forming slender and perfectly arched eyebrows. Here is listed in exaggerated detail all those cosmetic aids by which ladies could fashion their appearances into approximate likenesses of Dante’s Beatrice, Petrarch’s Laura, or Boccaccio’s Emilia. Also sig­nifi­cant for our purposes are the many items of clothing, jewelry, perfumes, and other adornments listed in Pulci’s inventory (which included felt pads that, depending on placement, could make a woman appear taller or more well endowed). Some of the items are often seen in Quattrocento painting, such as virtually transparent veils for holding the hair in place (veli, ubiquitous in Botticelli’s Madonnas), various ribbons (frenelli) used for binding and decorating hair, and head jewels (gioelli da testa). The ribbons and jewels are prominently displayed in the Frankfurt Young Woman in Mythological Guise. Also conspicuous in the painting are rows of pearls cascading down the young lady’s golden hair, and these are included in the cargo of the galleys. Called vespai, or “wasp’s nests,” these were either tightly or loosely strung 96

courtly lyric ii pearls that gave the impression of a swarm of wasps or hornets strewn about in the hair.20 The term incidentally adds a special meaning to the familiar proverb, Non stuzzichare un ves­ paio (“­Don’t stir up a hornet’s nest,” in the En­glish version), which Erasmus in explicating the Latin proverb Non irritare crabrones applied to “that spirit in ­women which, if roused to anger and you oppose them, is only provoked all the more, and not without damage to yourself; for, as you know, wasps and hornets are extremely tenacious and possess many pestilent stings.”21 The proverb sheds valuable light on Botticelli’s Mars and Venus in London, in which the nightmare panisci literally poke with Mars’s jousting lance at a wasp’s nest in the knothole of a tree against which he rests, provoking an angry swarm to buzz around the god’s head (Fig. 14). The lady depicted in the Frankfurt painting is adorned with an especially elaborate form of vespaio, whereas a less elaborate version can be seen worn by one of the three Graces in Botticelli’s Primavera. Even more interesting are Pulci’s various references to posticcie, or attachments of false hair, and pannocchie, which are ropes of false hair or extensions woven from the manes or tails of horses (pannochie del cavallo) or other animals. He also mentions mazzocchi (literally, woven garlands) and grillanduzze, both of which refer to armatures for female hair adornments woven of both real and false hair (posticcie). The use of such horsehair ropes is especially evident in the hairstyle of the lady shown in the Frankfurt picture, whose braided false hair attachments are a light brown, distinctly darker than her own 97

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture blonde tresses, and are clearly handmade. Her horsehair braids have been tightly knotted and sewn together in perfectly even plaits, with not a hair out of place, before being attached to her head and collar, and the larger ones have pearls appliquéd at precisely calculated intervals, the work of a seamstress rather than a hairdresser. By contrast, the abundant curls that fall from the lady’s temples, however artfully they may be arranged and combed, end in wispy strands, as they would in life, endowing her with a pleasing and even erotic natural abandon. The braid attached or sewn to the lady’s blouse as a kind of collar also has a parallel in painting. Although attached to the front of her dress, it breaks free at the shoulder and loops around the back of her neck, encircling a large hank of red-­ribboned hair (again a false-­hair extension) that circles around the back of her neck. A virtually identical collar, minus the pearls, can also be seen in Botticelli’s Mars and Venus in London, adorning Venus’s camicia da giorno, or day dress, in which the goddess’s hair combines natural, freely falling tresses bound with tightly braided ropes of false hair, and in which her braided collar, attached at her breast by a brooch, breaks free from her dress at the shoulders to loop back around the generous hank of hair descending down her back. Such false braids can also be found in Verrocchio’s work, as in his drawing of the head of a woman in the British Museum (Fig. 15), as well as in several of Leo­ nardo da Vinci’s studies for the head of Leda at Windsor Castle (Fig. 16), in which Leda is shown wearing a full and intricately knotted wig, from beneath which her natural hair 98

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Fig. 14. Sandro Botticelli, Mars and Venus, National Gallery, London.

courtly lyric ii flutters in lascivious abandon. Indeed, it is with Botticelli and Verrocchio that we witness the beginning of a new preoccupation, markedly unclassical, with the relationship between natural beauty and ar­ti­fi­cial ornamentation (by no means always considered a positive partnership) that was to reach its ultimate expression in Michelangelo’s so-­called teste divine. This relationship indeed was explicitly the theme of Botticelli’s Calumny of Apelles, in which the naked and unadorned Truth is contrasted to the ar­ti­fi­cial ornamentation of Calumny by Treachery and Deceit, thus allegorizing the treacherous ability of rhetoric to seduce an audience by the re­fined techniques of rhetorical adornment. We saw in the first chapter that Leonardo’s Portrait of Ginevra de’Benci, which beyond any doubt depicts a real woman, nevertheless also allegorizes or, better, embodies a poetic idea invested in her by Bernardo Bembo, her poet-­lover. So too there is nothing in the costume, ornamentation, and hairstyle of the woman in the Frankfurt painting that cannot be shown to have existed as part of fif­teenth-­century female dress and adornment. Is this painting, so often called a portrait of Simonetta Cattaneo, in fact a portrait? In a special sense I think it is, but in the same way that Poliziano’s fictional imagining of Simonetta in the Stanze is. There she appears poetically masked and wears a quasi-­theatrical costume painted with flowers and greenery (“Candida è ella, e candida la vesta / ma pur di rose e fior dipinta e d’erba”), which may be considered a portrayal of the ac­tual Simonetta. Before touching upon this point I must first take note of two elements that cer101

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture tainly establish that the lady in the Frankfurt portrait embodies a poetic idea, or allegory. The first is the cameo suspended from her neck, on which is shown Apollo and Marsyas, a fine specimen of Renaissance jewelry that copies  an ancient carnelian carved by Sostratus and owned by Lorenzo de’ Medici. The second, even more startling, is the fact that she is also costumed, lightly armored and wearing a corselet that can just be seen emerging from beneath her sleeve and curving round to her solar plexus, framing her breast (a red ribbon is also visible, extending from under her right arm and across to her left, which seems to be a painted leather strap for supporting a parade shield. It is indeed likely that the painting, which in its present format is much larger than any other Quattrocento portrait, in fact originally represented a full-­length allegorical fig­ure in which these traces of armament would have been more fully explained. How these details are to be interpreted is far from clear, but the cameo seems an obvious reference to Lorenzo de’ Medici, and the image of Apollo and Marsyas carved upon it refers to a myth about the victory of a more perfect art over one still unre­ fined. The image of an armored woman at once calls to mind Pallas (similarly rendered by Botticelli both in drawings and painting), or possibly a Tyche, the personification of a city’s fortune, perhaps in this case Florence itself. I cannot offer a clear solution to the mystery of the beautiful donna painted by Botticelli, whose aspect is determined by an allegorically abstract idea set in the trappings of contemporary, indeed quasi-­theatrical masquerade costumes. I 102

Fig 15. Andrea del Verrocchio, Head of a Young Woman, British Museum, London.

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Fig 16. Leonardo da Vinci, Head of a Woman (study for Leda and the Swan), Windsor, RL 12515.

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courtly lyric ii will, however, conclude with a few general observations. Warburg was absolutely right to see in such images a re­flection of the pageantry of Florentine spectacles and civic celebrations. In interpreting her meaning, as well as that of the Primavera, Mi­nerva and the Centaur, Mars and Venus, and even the Birth of Venus, we must always keep in mind that, by the inviolable rules of the traditions of vernacular poetry we have considered, the idea, the allegory, invested in the person of the beloved, whether the poet’s donna or the dama to whom a young knight dedicated his fortune in the joust, is always attached to an ac­tual, living woman, no matter how ideally she may be presented. Thus, it was under the senhal, or mask, of Pallas that Simonetta was idealized on the banner Giuliano de’ Medici carried into the joust he dedicated to her, just as it was to Lucrezia Donati, the donna of Lorenzo’s own poetry, that Lorenzo had dedicated his joust a few years earlier. In those jousts, the lady represented his knightly valor and, in a broader sense, the honor of himself, his house, and indeed the honor of the entire city. Moreover, the splendor of Simonetta’s representation on a banner painted by none other than Botticelli made of her beauty and the idea vested in it the very emblem of an idea of renewed cultural and artistic perfection. Such an idea was spe­cifi­cally associated with these and similar public celebrations by Lorenzo de’ Medici in the letter prefacing the so-­called Raccolta Aragonese, a collection of vernacular Tuscan poetry dating from the days of the dolce stil novo down to his own time (including four of Lorenzo’s own 107

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture sonnets lamenting the death of Simonetta) that he sent to Federico d’Aragona, the son of the king of Naples.22 There he wrote that nothing con­trib­uted more to the honor of the city than such triumphal displays (trionfi) or civic games (giuochi), whereby the ancients had won eternal fame by adorning them with supreme art and “infinite wondrous adornments,” and whereby they had advanced all the arts by  encouraging competitions in embellishing them and by sponsoring oratorical and poetic competitions for celebrating them and those participating in them. In so saying, Lorenzo was not advocating a literal revival of classical culture as such but was, rather, arguing for a renovation (renovatio) of contemporary Florentine culture by testing its accomplishments in comparison to and in competition with the ancients. Such an ideal was expressed in the poetry commissioned by Lorenzo for such civic rituals and also in commemoration of them, the most famous of which is Poliziano’s Stanze comin­ ciate per la giostra di Giuliano de’ Medici. Moreover, it is a notable characteristic of the poetry written by Lorenzo and his clients that, aside from allegorizing ideas that were invested in various poetic ladies, it invariably refers to the events of a constantly evolving present, continually interpreting and reinterpreting the changing meanings of an ongoing his­tory that was itself in flux. In the Stanze, for example, as was shrewdly pointed out by Eugenio Donato, Julio and the nymph Simonetta do not have exclusively poetic existences.23 The same is true of the fig­ures, only thinly masked, in Lorenzo’s own Canzoniere and the poetry written 108

courtly lyric ii by his clients, whether the Pulci brothers, Naldo Naldi, or Poliziano. They can only be interpreted and understood in terms of real persons and real events. In the Stanze Simonetta does not exist, like Beatrice and Laura, only within the framework of a self-­suf­fi­cient idea that de­fines her and is structured by her. Despite her idealization, her historical reality is always present and, indeed, insisted upon. No interpretation of the poem can ignore that fact, which is why the prob­lem of dating the Stanze is so im­por­tant, for it makes all the difference in the world whether Poliziano’s poem was completed just after Giuliano’s victory in the joust of 1475, or after the death of Simonetta on 26 April 1476, or, as Guglielmo Gorni has pretty decisively shown, only after Giuliano’s murder on 26 April 1478, exactly on the second anniversary of Simonetta’s death. I am convinced that the same is true of a certain class of Quattrocento paintings, and conspicuous among them are Botticelli’s mythologies, including the Primavera, the Mars and Venus, the Mi­nerva and the Centaur, the Birth of Venus, and the Frankfurt so-­called Simonetta. I hasten to point out, however, that “mythology” in the current meaning of the word is a nineteenth-­century conception, and that it is better, in accordance with Quattrocento usage, to call them favole, or poetic fables. Moreover, they are poetic fables cast in a vernacular mode, as appears not only from their appeal to the lyric conventions of descriptio pulchritudinis in their depiction of the ancient goddesses but also, as we have had a partial foretaste, in their costumes and adornments. Despite their classical 109

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture subject matter, profoundly rooted in humanist learning at the very highest level, none of these is truly antique, as Warburg understood long ago, or is even an attempt to re-­create the style and appearance of antiquity. They are, instead, rooted in things Botticelli had ac­tually seen and experienced, in the fashions and quasi-­theatrical representations devised to celebrate the holidays and civic rituals of the city. This means that the rules governing the writing and reception of vernacular love lyric as established by the poets of the dolce stil novo, Dante, and Petrarch also apply to the interpretation of such painted favole, and that the task of criticism is to discover, on a case-­by-­case basis, not only the general allegory embodied in each fig­ure—in the instances of the Primavera and the Birth of Venus, for example, it is not unreasonable to hypothesize that, as in the Canzoniere of Lorenzo de’ Medici, some allegory of Florence itself, the city of flowers, is expressed in the idea of love that Venus represents—but also that this idea is vested in the ideal image of a particular beloved. The laws of vernacular love poetry, at any rate, dictate such a supposition. I shall end this chapter by illustrating the prob­lem with two examples, both by Botticelli, and neither of them derived from the retelling of an ancient favola cast into a contemporary setting. The first is the Adoration of the Magi in the Uffizi (Fig. 17) in which Cosimo de’ Medici is portrayed as the first of the Magi, kneeling at the feet of the Madonna. When the picture was painted, Cosimo had been dead for more than a de­cade, and although his profile closely follows the contours 110

Fig. 17. Sandro Botticelli, Adoration of the Magi, Uffizi, Florence.

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courtly lyric ii of the portrait of him shown on the famous medal struck to commemorate his death in 1464, Botticelli has clearly idealized him, eternalizing an ageless idea of Cosimo by eliminating all the wattles, wrinkles, and other signs of advanced years in a man who had died in his seventies. By contrast, Cosimo’s living grandsons, Lorenzo (standing in the crowd of onlookers at the right) and Giuliano (in the foreground at the left), are portrayed from life. In contrast to the thoughtful Lorenzo, Giuliano is shown ev­ery inch as the spirited youth he in fact was, superciliously proud, eyes looking down his long nose, with a sensuous mouth that curves downward and then rises at the corners in a kind of smirk. These same features of the living Giuliano are rec­orded in a bust at­trib­ uted to Verrocchio in the National Gallery in Washington. In striking contrast to both examples, Botticelli’s Portrait of Giuliano de’ Medici, also in the National Gallery (Fig. 18), painted after Giuliano’s murder in the Pazzi Conspiracy at the age of twenty-­five, is, like the Frankfurt Portrait of Simonetta, not convincing as a portrait taken from life or even as an image derived from a death mask. Rather, his most salient identifying features—his aquiline nose, haughtily downcast eyes, and double-­curving mouth—have been separately isolated and exaggerated to create a posthumous idea of him, a perfected mask. Similarly, the strongly idealized Frankfurt portrait pre­ sents an image that can also be considered as a kind of poetic mythologizing of the dead, an ac­tual woman raised to the level of myth, and if this is so then the old hypothesis that 113

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture she represents Simonetta is well worth reconsidering. In so doing, the prob­lem be­comes one not so much of what she ac­tually looked like, but of what she stood for, or rather what in death she had come to represent. In life, as described in Poliziano’s Stanze, she had allegorized Giuliano’s mente, the image of his mind, an idea lodged in his very soul when he dedicated his valor to her in the joust, and in this sense Simonetta was Giuliano. His brother, Lorenzo, tells in his sonnets of how she was also his own first love, and how in death she was transformed into Venus, the brightest light of the heavens. But Lorenzo goes on to write that now death has forced him to consign this idea of youthful love and beauty to oblivion, and to dedicate himself to a brighter star, the sun (the well-­known senhal of another Florentine beauty, Lucrezia Donati, to whom Lorenzo dedicated his own poetry). The morning star he surrenders to oblivion is that which had guided his own carefree youth and that of his murdered brother, a jeunesse d’orée that had forever been eclipsed by Fortune.

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Fig 18. Sandro Botticelli, Giuliano de’ Medici, National Gallery of Art, Washington.

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THREE

Civic Ritual I

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CARDINAL O RSINI’S PAINTINGS AND BACC IO BALDINI’S ENGRAVINGS OF THE SI BYLS: H UMANIS T LEAR NING AND VERNACULAR DRAMA

T

he sacra rappresentazione as a new dramatic ­genre appeared quite suddenly in Florence in the mid-1440s, only a few de­ cades after the simpler liturgical spectacles devoted to the Annunciation, Ascension, and Pentecost were first established, respectively, in the conventual churches of San Felice in Piazza, Santa Maria del Carmine, and Santo Spirito. These spectacles had little dramatic content as such. They consisted principally of tableaux accompanied by recitations of the biblical texts either in Latin or vernacular translation. The staunchly Medicean poet Feo Belcari, whose Abraham and Isaac was first performed in 1449, may fairly be claimed to be a coinventor of the new ­genre, together with such collaborators as Piero di Mariano Muzi, guardian of the Compagnia dei fanciulli dedicated to the Purification of the Virgin housed at 119

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture San Marco. Pope Eugenius IV had established four of these so-called Children’s Companies in 1442 in a bull that also set up a commission under the future arch­bishop of Florence, Antonino Pierozzi, for the creation of statutes regulating their governance. It was in the Compagnie dei fanciulli that the earliest development and performance of the new sacre rappresentazioni occurred. Our attention will be focused on two of these plays, Muzi’s rappresentazione of the Purification of the Virgin and Belcari’s of the Annunciation, an early version of which was perhaps first performed from a parade apparatus (edificio) during the reformed San Giovanni celebrations of 1454 as part of an extended cycle of plays beginning with the Creation and ending with the Last Judgment. Of particular concern are the prologues to both plays, which comprise speeches by a fair number of Old Testament prophets and pagan sibyls predicting the Incarnation. The speeches overlap considerably, and they derive from a common source that was almost certainly also drawn upon for the San Giovanni celebrations of 1454. The source was an utterly unprecedented vernacular versification in ottava rima of the traditional Latin liturgical spectacle called the Ordo Prophetarum, or Procession of the Prophets, in which the prophecies of twenty-four Old Testament prophets were augmented by those of twelve pagan sibyls. In composing the sibyls’ octaves, our anonymous author relied upon humanist Latin epigrams that had been devised for a new, absolutely unprecedented, cycle of twelve sibyls invented around twenty years earlier and painted, together with twelve prophets, for Cardinal Giordano Orsini in 120

civic ritual i Rome. He gave Orsini’s epigrams paraphrastic translation in ottava rima, some of which were later used for the prologues to Belcari’s Annunciation play, which takes as its theme the Incarnation of Christ, and Muzi’s Purification play. The octaves are also appended, unfortunately in corrupted form, at the bottom of each of Baccio Baldini’s engravings of the twelve sibyls, dating about 1471–75. It is possible, however, on the basis of this and early de­scrip­tions of the Orsini series (also surviving in corrupted form) to reconstruct the twelve sibylline octaves in their entirety, a demonstration of which appears in the appendix of this book. We first hear of Cardinal Orsini’s paintings in 1454, in a letter written by Poggio Bracciolini to the humanist Roberto Valturio, who had asked for information about the sibyls to be given the sculptor Agostino di Duccio for the decoration of the Chapel of the Sibyls (recte the Cappella della Madonna del Acqua) in the Tempio Malatestiano in Rimini: I now lack the leisure to gather the information about the Sibyls you ask for, but although I am unable to supply the material I can assist you with some advice. Cardinal Orsini of good memory, who died in the time of pope Eugenius, had all the Sibyls [Sibyllas omnes] painted with the greatest care in a hall of his palace called the camera paramenti, together with inscriptions telling what times they lived in, and what they had prophesied of Christ. You might write to Rome and arrange for a learned man to write down and send you the forma picturae [the descriptive characteristics and at­ trib­utes] of each of the Sibyls, their names, and their epi121

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture grams. Nowhere else will you find what you are looking for more exquisitely done, and at the same time you will spare yourself a lot of tedious work. It is no small effort even nowadays to assemble this material, which was then gathered together with the greatest possible diligence by extremely learned men.1

Cardinal Giordano Orsini’s celebrated paintings of the twelve sibyls, together with twelve Old Testament prophets, perished when the Orsini Palace was almost completely destroyed by supporters of the Colonna between 1482 and 1485. Also lost was an equally famous series of paintings in the sala theatri, almost certainly painted between 1430 and 1434 by a team of artists, among them Leonardo da Besozzo, Masolino, and perhaps (though very doubtfully) Paolo Uccello.2 This immense series, beginning with Adam and Eve, was arranged as a virorum illustrium chronica patterned on Eusebius’s division of human his­tory into six ages. The scheme of the sala theatri, including its inscriptions, is known from a number of copies and variations, among them by Barthelémy van Eyck and in Besozzo’s own Cronaca figurata in Milan, known today as the Crespi Chronicle. It also found a direct inheritance in the drawings for the so-called Florentine Picture Chronicle, many of which are attributable to Baccio Baldini. His engraved series of the prophets and sibyls was certainly derived from a written de­scrip­tion of the paintings of the prophets and sibyls in Cardinal Orsini’s camera paramenti.3 Although several prophets and two sibyls were also portrayed in the sala theatri, a full set of twelve sibyls appeared only in the camera paramenti, in which the cardinal maintained his prized ecclesiastical vest122

civic ritual i ments and other liturgical paraphernalia, an assemblage described at great length in his will.4 The paintings of twelve sibyls in the camera paramenti are of tremendous importance for the his­tory of Renaissance art, as they were the first to establish a secure iconography for the sibyls, and to establish it, as Poggio Bracciolini himself said, on solidly humanist lines. The names of the ten—not twelve—classical sibyls had been listed by Varro in his lost Antiquitates rerum divinarum and transmitted to the Middle Ages by Lactantius in the Divinae institutiones (I, vi, 6–17). There the sibyls are listed in the following order: the Persian, the Libyan, the Delphic, the Cimmerian, the Erythraean, the Samian, the Cumaean, the Hellespontine, the Phrygian, and the Tiburtine. Lactantius also rec­ords the prophecies of the ten sibyls, which he purports are completely in accordance with the authority of the Old Testament prophets. They predict events pertaining to the whole of Christ’s life—from his  conception and birth to his miracles, passion, death, and resurrection—and conclude with his final coming at the Last Judgment.5 The prophecies are scattered throughout the seven books of the Divinae Institutiones and were later summarized in Latin translation by St. Augustine (De civitate Dei, XVIII, xxiii) to show that the oracles, if arranged in a continuous series, could be read as a single extended prophecy. This single prophecy Augustine at­trib­uted to the Erythraean sibyl. Lactantius’s list of the ten ancient sibyls named by Varro was nevertheless often repeated, almost invariably following the same order, most notably by Isidore of Seville in his Etymologiae (VIII, 8). 123

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Nevertheless, as Emile Mâle was the first to show, in the Middle Ages only the terrible Erythraean sibyl, prophetess of the Dies irae, found representation in French art, where she alone was shown together with varying numbers of prophets, hence summarizing in a single fig­ure all the pagan sibyls.6 This was done despite the fact that Vincent of Beauvais, among others, had listed all ten of Varro’s sibyls, and it no doubt was done because of the authority of St. Augustine, who in the De civitate Dei not only conflated all the sibylline oracles into a single prophecy but also isolated the Erythraean sibyl as the author of a long Greek acrostic poem in which the first letters of each line spelled out the words, “Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Savior.”7 The poem was widely known in the Middle Ages as the Cantus Sibyllae, or, from its opening words, the Iudicii signum, and it is as prophetess of the Last Judgment that the Erythraean sibyl is depicted in the upper left-hand corner of Michelangelo’s Last Judgment in the Sistine Chapel. The Iudicii signum especially owed its great popularity and broad diffusion to a substantial homiletic piece, then erroneously at­trib­uted to Augustine, titled Contra Judaeos, Paganos, et Arianos Sermo de Symbolo, chapters xi–xviii of which are addressed to the Jews, demonstrating their error through the mouths of their own prophets.8 Since the twelfth century, these chapters have frequently served as a lectio for Matins at Christmas or some other day of the Christmas season.9 In them the preacher, in response to the persistent disbelief of the Jews, calls forth witnesses from their own law as set out in the Old Testament, summoning Isaiah, Jeremiah, Daniel, Moses, David, and Habak124

civic ritual i kuk, who each recite their prophecies. They are followed by the New Testament fig­ures of Simeon, Zacharias, Elizabeth, and John, and then, after a taunt that the testimony already given should be more than ample, by the Gentiles Virgil, Nebuchadnezzar, and the Erythraean sibyl, who completes the litany by reciting the whole of the Iudicii signum. This done, the lectio concludes with a scornful rebuke to the Jews: “I now believe, O perfidious Jews, having thus been opposed and confuted by so many testimonies, you ought not seek further.”10 The pseudo-Augustinian homily enjoyed widespread celebrity not only as a crucial element of the lectio for Christmas Matins but also as the direct source, as Julien Durand was the first to show, for the choice of prophets carrying scrolls inscribed with their testimonies sculptured on the church of Notre-Dame-la-Grande at Poitiers and on the facades of the cathedrals of Ferrara and Cremona.11 Moreover, although the complete text was originally read by a priest from the pulpit, the dramatic potential of the Contra Judaeos, in which individual prophets are in turn bidden to announce their visions, is obvious, and indeed the lectio was quickly adapted into the earliest forms of proto-theatrical liturgical representation. The homily came to play a crucial role in the early his­tory of liturgical drama, when the biblical prophecies would be intoned as responses by deacons and other members of the minor clergy to the reading of the text by the officiating priest, who would summon each of them forward in turn, and each would recite the biblical prophecy. Such an exchange is already implicit in the text of the Contra Judaeos 125

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture itself, in which the prophets are first called forth and then give their replies, thus: “Dic, Isaiah, testimonium Christo. Ecce, inquit, virgo in utero concipiet et pariet filium . . . : Dic et tu, Jeremiah, testimonium Christo. Hic est, inquit, Deus noster, et non aestimabitur alius absque eo.” This was the point of departure for the development in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries of a liturgical spectacle known as the Ordo Prophe­ tarum, or Procession of the Prophets, in which over time the number of prophets was gradually increased. Even so, the performance invariably concluded with but a single sibyl, the Erythraean, reciting the Iudicii signum.12 Likewise in Italy, before the new inventions for Cardinal Orsini’s series we find only the Erythraean sibyl represented among the biblical prophets in Giovanni Pisano’s sculptures for the façade of the Duomo in Siena, dating to the thirteenth century. She is iden­ti­fied by an inscription, Educabit[ur] de[us] et h[om]o, deriving from a pseudo-Joachite prophecy of the thirteenth century called the Vaticinium Sibillae Eritheae which claims that the Erythraean sibyl had predicted that the Lamb of God would appear on earth in the time of the Taurus pa­cificus—iden­ti­fied in the manuscript glosses as Octavian (i.e., Augustus).13 As late as 1442, a dozen years before Poggio’s letter to Valturio, we find only the Erythraean sibyl represented, together with nine prophets, in the frame painted by Benozzo Gozzoli around Fra Angelico’s fresco of the Crucifixion in the chapter room of San Marco (Fig. 19). Her name is written above her, and in one hand she holds a scroll upon which her prophecy is inscribed. In this instance it is 126

Fig. 19. Benozzo Gozzoli, Erythraean Sibyl (detail of frame of Fra Angelico’s Crucifixion), Chapterhouse, San Marco (Museo di San Marco), ­Florence.

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civic ritual i derived from Lactantius via Augustine’s translation, beginning Morte morietur tribus diebus.14 Only one other sibyl had been singled out for wide representation in Italy, namely the Tiburtine (sometimes confused with the Cumaean). She, according to the famous medieval legend given wide currency in the Mirabilia urbis Romae, had shown Emperor Augustus a vision of a Virgin holding a child in her arms above the Temple of Peace in Rome (hence likely the origin of the taurus pa­cificus prophesied by the Erythraean sibyl in the pseudo-Joachite Vaticinium Sibillae Erytheaea).15 This occurred on the site overlooking the Capitol of the future church of Santa Maria in Aracoeli, so named after the Tiburtine sibyl’s prophecy to Augustus, “Haec est ara coeli.” The Tiburtine and Erythraean sibyls, the latter iden­ti­fied by a scroll inscribed In ultima autem etate humil [iabitur Deus], again deriving from the pseudo-Joachite Vaticinium,16 were sculptured by Andrea and Nino Pisano between 1337 and 1341 for the west side of the Campanile in Florence, together with the prophets Solomon and David. Even when the existence of other sibyls is acknowledged, as when we meet with the six sculptured by Giovanni Pisano for the marble pulpit of Sant’Andrea in Pistoia, or the eight he carved for the pulpit of the Duomo in Siena, they are not accompanied by inscriptions or epigrams, nor are iconographic distinctions made that would allow particular iden­ti­fi­ca­tions to be made. By contrast, in Cardinal Orsini’s series of paintings each individual sibyl was for the first time differentiated from the others. His twelve prophets and twelve sibyls were explicitly 129

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture conceived as an Ordo Prophetarum, the chief novelty of which (and of which the cardinal was inordinately proud) was to expand the number of pagan oracles from only the Erythraean sibyl reciting the Iudicii signum into a complete set that would include all her sisters, each with her own individual prophecy. Though the paintings have not survived, many manuscript de­scrip­tions of them do exist, and these con­firm the cardinal’s intentions. 17 The conceptual foundation for his assembly of Old Testament prophets and Gentile prophetesses within the long-established tradition of the Ordo Prophetarum is explicit in the rebuke to the Jews that concludes the manuscript de­scrip­tions of Cardinal Orsini’s paintings: “The prophecies of the Sibyls are here clearly set forth: If, therefore, O miserable and unhappy Jew, you do not wish to believe your own Prophets, then put your faith in the prophecies expressed in verse by the Gentile Sibyls.” Each sibyl was distinguished by her own particular at­tri­ butes and physical characteristics, her name, age, and the epigram she displays. The prophecies rec­orded in the epigrams, including the Erythraean sibyl’s, are all new inventions devised by the humanist scholars assisting the cardinal and his painters. They do not follow Lactantius or Augustine, nor do they pertain to the whole of Christ’s life and final appearance on the Day of Judgment.18 They foretell the Incarnation only, something stressed in the very title of the manuscripts, Prophetie XII sibillarum de Incarnatione Christi, and in two verses that immediately follow, which speak of sibyls of different ages singing of a god to come who shall be born of a virgin: 130

civic ritual i “Quae cecinere deum de Virgine matre futurum / Hic sunt diversae non una aetate sibille.” This is highly sig­nifi­cant, for it shows that the Orsini sibyls were conceived as an early expression of what has been called the new humanist, or, alternatively, Incarnationist theology that Charles Trinkaus, John O’Malley, and Salvatore Camporeale have posited as a fundamental contribution of Renaissance humanist theologians.19 Incarnationist theology shifted emphasis away from that of a medieval Sacramentalist theology, which focused upon human sin and the redemption from sin promised by Christ’s death and resurrection. It instead celebrated the values and potentialities of human life itself, values sanctioned by Christ’s very decision to appear on earth in the age of Augustus. Indeed, that Christ chose to do so in just those days was taken as an af­fir­ma­tion of the advanced state attained by human culture at the dawn of the new era, carrying with it the promise of an ultimate human perfectibility here on earth that would set the stage for the second coming of Christ. The men who devised the imagery for the Orsini paintings, doctissimi viri in Poggio’s estimation, in addition to endowing the series with a thoroughly novel Incarnationist emphasis, further introduced two entirely new sibyls to the canonical list of ten descending from Varro and Lactantius, increasing their number to twelve. One was named Europa, and the other Agrippa. The date of the twelve sibyls and twelve prophets displayed in the camera parimenti is uncertain. They were certainly painted before 1434, in which year Eugenius IV and the 131

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture members of the Curia were forced to flee Rome; Cardinal Orsini lived in exile until his death in 1438.20 However, it is clear that well before 1434, when the cardinal departed Rome in the train of the pope, a de­scrip­tion of the sibyls had already been prepared, one without doubt deriving from the original list of instructions drawn up for his artists. A number of manuscripts with this de­scrip­tion survive in northern European libraries, doubtless diplomatic gifts prepared for the cardinal’s many papal legations. It is certain that one such manuscript was utilized for the first printed account of the new canon of twelve sibyls and their prophecies. This was published in 1481 by the Dominican friar Filippo Barbieri in two virtually simultaneous editions and often reissued.21 It is from this date, as Mâle demonstrated, that the new canon of the twelve sibyls rapidly became disseminated throughout Italy and northern Europe. Thus, while in 1474 a  representation of the Mistére de l’Incarnation performed in Rouen included but one sibyl, the Erythraean reciting the Iudicii signum, in the following de­cade there was staged in Valenciennes on the fourth day of a great Passion cycle a play devoted to Octavian and the Tiburtine sibyl to which was appended a pro­ces­sion of twelve sibyls. The twelve sibyls uttered prophecies in vernacular verse that were all but translated from Barbieri’s publication of the epigrams that had been devised for the Orsini paintings.22 Similarly, shortly afterward a Mistére de Octavien et de Sibille Tiburtine touchant la Conception was acted in Paris as the concluding play in another huge cyclical drama collectively called Le Mistére du Viel 132

civic ritual i Testament, first published around 1498. It too concludes with an appendix, called the Dit des Sibilles, in which the twelve sibyls appear in virtually a second enactment to deliver their prophecies in French verse. A persistent error in the literature claims that this latter was first performed in honor of Isabeau of Bavaria upon her entry into France in 1385, even though Baron Jean de Rothschild had already proved by the late nineteenth century that it was composed at least a century later by an anonymous poet who in fact dedicated his work to Louise of Savoy, the mother of Francis I.23 The Dits des Sibilles, like the verses sung by the sibyls in the Valenciennes play, are derived from Barbieri’s publication in 1481 of the prophecies devised for Cardinal Orsini’s sibyls in the 1420s or 1430s. Mâle and others have further traced the extensive in­flu­ence of Barbieri’s publication in the visual arts, which includes, in France, the sibyls’ depiction in the Hours of Louis de Laval, dating before 1489, and, in Italy, their appearances in the Siena cathedral pavement; Ghirlandaio’s frescoes in the Sassetti Chapel in Florence; Perugino’s in the Cambio in Perugia, Pinturrichio’s at Spello, in the Carafa Chapel in Sta. Maria sopra Mi­nerva in Rome, and in the Borgia Apartments in the Vatican; and, fi­nally, Michelangelo’s on the Sistine Chapel ceiling.24 Our concern here, however, is with the dissemination of the new Orsinian canon for the sibyls from the time of its invention up to its broad dispersal thanks to Barbieri’s publication in 1481. Although no de­scrip­tion of the Orsini sibyls was known 133

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture to Valturio before mid-1454, one had reached Ferrara before this date, probably in the form of a copy made from a manuscript carried by the cardinal himself when he attended the Council of Ferrara in 1438.25 It directly inspired the still-extant frescoes of the sibyls painted in the Casa Romei, dating to the early 1450s, and these in turn undoubtedly re­flect an even earlier series, now lost, that had been painted before 1447 by Niccolò Panizatto for Leonello d’Este’s camere Verdi at Belriguardo. The intermediary was undoubtedly the celebrated humanist Guarino Guarini, who, like Poggio, knew Cardinal Orsini extremely well and who in 1447 had prepared the de­scrip­tions for a series of Muses to be painted in Leonello d’Este’s studiolo at Belfiore.26 In the following de­cade, in response to an immediate request from Valturio prompted by Poggio’s suggestion that he write to Rome for assistance, a manuscript de­scrip­tion of the Orsini sibyls was sent to Ri­ mini. Stanko Kokole has found an echo of it in Porcellio’s De amore Iovis in Isottam, written between the winter of 1454 and 1456, in which Agostino di Duccio’s sculptures of the sibyls in the Tempio Malatestiano are characterized in terms unmistakably derived from the verses quoted from the manuscript de­scrip­tions of the Orsini sibyls.27 It is clear that by the time Valturio heard from Rome, the number of Agostino’s sibyls had irrevocably been set at ten rather than twelve. Nevertheless, Porcellio follows the Orsini manuscripts in referring to sibyls of different ages singing of the birth of God from the womb of a virgin: “Aspicis inde decem non una aetate 134

civic ritual i Sibyllas / Virginis ex utero quae cecinere Deum” (italics mine). And Kokole has also shown the limited but nevertheless clear in­flu­ence of the Orsini sibyls on one or two of Agostino’s sculptures, which were already very far along and were completed in the winter of 1454. By the same year, a de­scrip­tion of the Orsini sibyls was unquestionably in Florence, which, unlike Ferrara, Rimini, or even Rome, was to play the decisive role in stabilizing and widely diffusing the iconography of the twelve sibyls. There an anonymous author gave the Latin epigrams that had been devised for each of the twelve Orsini sibyls paraphrastic vernacular translations in ottava rima. They have been at­trib­uted to Feo Belcari (1410–84), celebrated for his vernacular translation of Ambrogio Traversari’s Prato spirituale (an ample collection of lives of the saints that Traversari had translated from Greek into Latin), and of the Vita del beato Giovanni Colombini, dedicated to Giovanni di Cosimo de’ Medici in 1449. Some of these octaves, including one with Agrippa’s prophecy, were included in the prologue to Belcari’s later rappresentazione of the Annunciation, dedicated to Giovanni’s brother, Piero di Cosimo de’ Medici. Some were again used for the prologue to Belcari’s friend and collaborator Piero di Mariano Muzi’s rappresentazione of the Purification of the Virgin. About twenty years later, Baccio Baldini (ca. 1436–87) engraved a complete set of twelve sibyls based on the Orsini series, each of which displays an octave at the bottom. Baldini’s sibyls were complemented by a set of engravings of 135

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture twenty-four prophets with their testimonies, a great many of which had previously been included in both Belcari’s Annunciation play and Muzi’s Purification play. How the de­scrip­tion came to be in Florence so early— whether presented as a gift upon Orsini’s arrival in the city when Eugenius IV summoned the Curia there in 1436, or whether copied even earlier—is unclear. But a probable answer lies in Orsini’s extensive network of professional relationships with Florentine scholars. Orsini had for many years worked closely with Florentine humanists, among them Poggio, in the search for classical manuscripts north of the Alps, and they in turn were anxious to make transcripts of the im­ por­tant codices in his famous library. One of these was a celebrated codex with sixteen comedies by Plautus, twelve of which, including the Menaechmi, were completely unknown. The discovery of the manuscript in Cologne by Cusanus, and his sale of it to Orsini in 1429, occasioned intense excitement and was the cause of a feverish competition between humanists in Florence, Ferrara, Milan, and the papal curia.28 Because the cardinal wished to restore the corrupt text of Plautus’s plays himself and publish them together with introductory verses composed by Antonio Loschi, for a long time he resisted the persistent requests of Poggio and others to make copies of his precious manuscript, much to Poggio’s disgust. As he wrote to Niccolò Niccoli in January 1431, “No one, I believe, will be able to transcribe Plautus well unless he be extremely learned.” In the same letter he alerted Niccolò to petitions that had been made directly to the cardinal by 136

civic ritual i the Duke of Milan, Filippo Maria Visconti, and the Marquis of Ferrara, Leonello d’Este, for the loan of the codex so that it might be copied, respectively, by Panormita (Antonio Beccadelli) and Guarino.29 Although the cardinal remained deaf even to the pleas of his close friend Ambrogio Traversari, who also wrote to Niccolò of his frustration and unhappiness,30 the prize was fi­nally seized by Cosimo de’ Medici’s brother, Lorenzo, when he came to Rome as a member of the Florentine delegation sent to congratulate Eugenius IV upon his election to the papacy.31 Lorenzo personally carried the manuscript with him on his return to Florence in June 1431, where it was at once copied by Niccolò. In 1432 it was forwarded to Guarino in Ferrara, who sent a transcription to Panormita in Pavia later that year. By the end of the de­cade in Florence we find the humanist orator, poet, diplomat, and outstanding public servant Matteo Palmieri (1406–75) quoting an aphorism from one of the rediscovered plays, the Pseudolus, in his vernacular po­lit­i­cal treatise, Della vita civile.32 It is hence unsurprising that when Cardinal Orsini arrived in Florence in 1436 he stayed as a guest in the house of Cosimo de’ Medici and his brother, Lorenzo, and it is entirely plausible that, as had been his custom on earlier diplomatic missions, he brought a de­scrip­tion of the sibyls with him.33 On March 25, the feast of the Annunciation, the cardinal officiated in the presence of Eugenius IV in the Mass consecrating the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore, at which time, according to a ricordanza written by Feo Belcari, extra­ ordinary indulgences were granted to the Florentines at Co137

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture simo’s request.34 Equally im­por­tant in this context, the acquisition of Plautus’s lost plays, together with Aurispa’s discovery in 1433 of Donatus’s famous commentary to Terence, greatly stimulated humanist interest in the prosody and structure of classical drama, and in my opinion in­flu­enced production of vernacular plays (or representations), well before they were first performed in Latin.35 Indeed, the first Latin recitation of Terence’s Andria (excitata ab inferis, in the words of a bedazzled Pietro Cennini) ­didn’t occur in Florence until 1476, after which it was often repeated by pupils in the school of Giorgio Antonio Vespucci.36 Plautus’s Menaechmi did not receive its first performance until 1488, when it was staged in San Lorenzo before an audience that included Cosimo’s grandson, Lorenzo the Magnificent. Earlier, however, the effects of the new study of the forms of classical drama had become apparent in the invention of the first vernacular sacre rappresentazioni, with their prologues setting forth the argumentum of each play, with their concluding epilogues, and with their poetic octaves carefully crafted for effective oral delivery, a refining upon the doggerel recited by the cantari of popular heroic verse and the far less polished antecedent religious spectacles. And it was in the new sacre rappresentazioni that Cardinal Orsini’s sibyls made their definitive appearance in Florence. The de­scrip­tion of the Orsini sibyls must without doubt have been available at some time before the celebration of the feast of St. John the Baptist during the days of 21–24 June 1454. The form of the San Giovanni celebrations had been 138

civic ritual i altered that very year in response to criticism, and indeed episcopal legislation, by Antonino Pierozzi, arch­bishop of Florence from 1446 to 1459.37 The priors appointed festaiuoli to reor­ga­nize the celebrations such that the displays of the edifici (parade floats, or more likely litters carried on the shoulders of as many as sixty or seventy men) would be separate from the pro­ces­sions of the religious orders.38 In Antonino’s view, the imagery of the edifici built by the lay confraternities for the festivities had become infected by secular vanities and worldly spectacles unfit even for Carnival, much less the celebration of the city’s patron saint (“vi siano stato mescolato molte cose di vanità e mondani spettacoli che starebono male per carnasciale, non che nella pro­ces­sione”).39 The pro­ces­sion of the edifizi was accordingly moved back a day, to June 22, and the clergy marched the next day, the vigil of the feast, “to stir the people to devotion by their solemn display of ecclesiastical vestments and the relics of the saints” (con sollempne apparato di paramenti e reliquie di sancti, a inducere il popolo ad divotione). The festaiuoli appointed in 1454 were Giuliano Ridolfi, Giovanni Serristori, Giovanni Rustici, the baker Francesco del Nero, and, not least, Matteo Palmieri.40 Moreover, and certainly in response to the reformist concerns of the arch­bishop, the edifizi were all conspicuously free of mondani spettacoli and cose di vanità. Instead, as Palmieri himself described the new format, each of them was conceived as contributing to a uni­fied religious program setting forth a great cyclical drama devoted to the his­tory of man’s 139

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture salvation, in which, as in the great French Mistére cycles earlier mentioned, there was enacted the whole of the Christian story from the creation of Adam and Eve through to the Last Judgment.41 The edifici were also listed in a ricordanza written by Palmieri, then in the full ma­tu­ri­ty of his public career, having served as gonfaloniere of Justice in the fall of 1453 and as a member of both the Dodici and the Otto di Guardia in 1454.42 He wrote that they paraded to the Piazza della Signoria, where he, as one of the festaiuoli, together with other civic dignitaries, undoubtedly held a seat of honor at which each parade wagon or litter paused and enacted a rappresentazione (“Tutti sopra detti edifici ferono sua rappresentazioni in piazza inanzi a’ Signori e durorono infino alle sedici ore”).43 About thirty years later, a dramma ciclica on this new Florentine model was enacted in Bologna for the celebration of Corpus Christi. There, too, a series of edifizi paraded through the streets, each stopping at a predetermined point to allow the performance of a rappresentazione conceived as an episode in a great cyclical drama that in this case was uni­fied by an argument unfolding the his­tory of redemption from the creation of man through to the time of the latest saints, among them Bernardino of Siena and Vincent Ferrer.44 The plays of this Bolognese rappresentazione ciclica were compiled by Tomaso di Leone (Thomas Leonis Bononiensis) in 1482, and they were written in the Florentine manner, in ottava rima, some being directly derived from the Florentine model. The cycle included versified prophecies of the twelve sibyls that ultimately derive from the Orsini series but, with140

civic ritual i out question, were mediated by the Florentine octaves that had rendered these prophecies in vernacular form.45 To return to the San Giovanni celebrations in June 1454, three of the edifizi mentioned by Palmieri—the eighth, ninth, and tenth—are crucial for our purposes.46 The eighth carried “many” prophets and sibyls (più profeti e sibille), together with Hermes Trismegistus and “other Prophets of the Incarnation of Christ.” The ninth displayed the Annunciation, and the tenth showed the emperor Octavian and the Tiburtine sibyl. The appearance of many sibyls in conjunction with a representation of the legend of Octavian again recalls the two French Mistéres de Octavien et de Sibille Tiburtine touchant la Conception mentioned earlier, performed thirty or so years later in the cyclical dramas at Valenciennes and Paris, to which were appended, virtually as separate enactments and again undoubtedly on the Florentine model, the pro­ces­sion of twelve sibyls uttering their prophecies in vernacular verse. Although Palmieri does not specify twelve sibyls, it is suf­fi­ cient for the moment to take note that neither does he refer only to the two sibyls familiar in Ital­ian art before the invention of Cardinal Orsini’s series, namely the Erythraean and Tiburtine (who indeed had a float all to herself). Furthermore, when in the following year he began writing his poem “La città di vita” on the model of Dante’s Comedia, Palmieri, unlike Dante but like Virgil, imagined the Cumaean sibyl as his guide, and she speaks to him of “più mie sorelle prophe­ tesse” (unnamed), followed by “quell Trymegisto di chi gli egyptii già gran pregio fenno” and sixteen Old Testament 141

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture prophets ranging from Isaiah “prophetando di verginil concepto nascer Signor” to “Michea, Amos & Giona & Sophonia . . . insino al Zacheria.”47 In so writing, his imagination was without doubt stirred by the spectacle he had witnessed, and indeed helped to or­ga­nize, in the San Giovanni celebrations of 1454, about which he wrote in his ricordanza of seeing many prophets and sibyls accompanied by Hermes Trismegistus, who all prophesied the Incarnation only, and not the whole of Christ’s life and final appearance at the Last Judgment. These circumstances alone suggest that a de­scrip­ tion of the Orsini sibyls had arrived in Florence at least by early 1454. Other considerations point to the same conclusion. Cardinal Orsini’s paintings of the twelve sibyls, conceived summa cum doctissimorum virorum diligentia, had been created and their imagery diffused within the con­fines of a highly sophisticated humanist court culture. They comprise, together with his vast series of uomini illustri, the earliest known examples of the fusion of the new learning with the new art. The de­scrip­tion of his sibyls served as an exemplar of humanist learning not only to be imitated in itself but also to be emulated in the invention of other series devoted to similar groupings, such as the nine Muses or the seven planets. We have seen that it was early transmitted to Ferrara, where the humanists Guarino and Theodore of Gaza assisted with the inventions for Leonello d’Este’s two series of paintings devoted to the sibyls and the Muses; and it was again transmitted to Rimini, where Valturio and Basinio da Parma joined 142

civic ritual i their learning to Agostino di Duccio’s art in devising the imagery for the series of sculptures in Sigismondo Malatesta’s Chapels of the Sibyls, the Muses, and the Planets. In Florence, however, the adaptation of the Orsini sibyls occurred in a strikingly original context: one not courtly, Latin­ ate, and aulicly removed, but rather popular, in the vernacular, and accessible to all. This happened in an environment close to the Medici, where the learned Latin epigrams composed for Cardinal Orsini’s paintings of the prophets and sibyls were paraphrased in ottava rima by an anonymous author. The octaves of the sibyls have naturally been at­trib­uted to Feo Belcari, since he later incorporated a number of them into the introductory section of his sacra rappresentazione of the Annunciation, dedicated to Piero de’Medici, the full title of which is La rappresentazione quando la Nostra Donna Vergine fu annunziata dall’Angelo Gabriello. This play includes the earliest known rec­ ord of the prophecies of selected sibyls from Cardinal Or­ sini’s new canon in Florentine poetry, spectacle, or art, although the exact date of its composition is uncertain. Newbigin, however, has noted certain similarities between the structure of his rappresentazione of the Annunciation and Palmieri’s de­scrip­tion of the edifizi built for the Festa di San Giovanni in 1454.48 Belcari’s play is introduced by oracles pronounced by several prophets and sibyls, all predicting the Incarnation of Christ, followed by the representation of the Annunciation itself. Identically, in the celebration staged for the feast of Florence’s patron saint there appeared an edifizio 143

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture with “più profeti e sibille” who predicted the Incarnation, followed by another with a representation of the Annunciation. In succession the two thus enacted in the Piazza della Signoria the two parts of a rappresentazione (prologue and play) enacting the prophecies and their fulfillment in the Annunciation. Versions of Belcari’s Annunciation play were subsequently performed well into the next century. Still, the earliest performance Newbigin has been able to identify securely did not occur until 1468, when the spectacle of the Annunciation traditionally held in the church of San Felice in Piazza was revived after a hiatus of several years, and it is uncertain that Belcari’s play existed as early as 1454. It was also enacted in San Felice in March 1471, fif­teen months after  Piero de’ Medici’s death in December 1469, as part of the lavish celebrations ordained by Lorenzo the Magnificent, Piero’s son and successor to the leadership of Florence, for the state visit of Galeazzo Maria Sforza, the Duke of Milan. This visit was commemorated in Piero Pollaiuolo’s extra­ ordinary portrait of the haughty young duke, now in the Uffizi.49 On this occasion, which occurred during the Lenten season, when as a rule the performance of such spectacles was suspended, the rappresentazione of the Annunciation was staged at San Felice on March 17, and it was then followed by two other famous rappresentazioni, those of the Ascension, performed at the Carmine on March 19, and of Pentecost, enacted at Santo Spirito on March 21. At the Pentecost performance, the descent of the Holy Ghost on a rope ignited 144

civic ritual i the fireworks fitted into the diadems of wooden apostles (simulating tongues of fire), causing a conflagration that destroyed the church. The performance of the three plays out of season for the express po­lit­i­cal purpose of entertaining the duke and his court has been interpreted as evidence of particularly crude Medicean intervention in the religious rituals of the city, and contemporary chroniclers indeed speculated that the fire was a sign of divine displea­sure. However, the subject was taken up by Machiavelli in his Istorie Fiorentine, in which he claimed that the young men of Florence, more dissolute than in the past and made complacent by a long period of peace, had taken up effeminate pursuits, such as party-going and feasting, dressing ever more fashionably, making mordant jests, and seeking ways to please the ladies. They were hence easily further corrupted by the extravagances and “courtly delicacies” of the Milanese duke and his followers, who shocked the Florentines by eating meat in Lent. For this reason, he claimed God’s wrath was provoked.50 It was not appropriation of the forms of civic celebration by the Medici that disturbed Machiavelli, and he indeed went on to claim that the lavish pomp of the reception itself (which had been supervised by none other than the sculptor Verrocchio) was “appropriate for so great a Duke and so great a friend of the city.” The pompous display in fact recalls other such receptions, such as the festivities earlier arranged in 1459 on the occasion of the visit of Pius II to Florence, with the fif­teen-year-old Galeazzo Maria in attendance as the representative of his father, Duke Francesco Sforza. At 145

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture that time the youth stayed as a guest of Cosimo de’ Medici, and the normal route taken by pro­ces­sions honoring dis­ tinguished foreign visitors was altered to pass in front of the  recently completed family palace in via Larga. From its windows the guests viewed the pro­ces­sion of a mag­nifi­cent armeggeria with a Triumph of Love, followed in the next days by an open-air dance, jousting in the piazza Santa Croce, and a caccia, or wild-animal hunt, in the piazza della Signoria.51 The one pious event was the conclusion of the entertainment the evening before the youth’s departure, scheduled for Ascension Day, with a performance of the Ascension play in the Carmine.52 For Galeazzo Maria’s later visit in 1471, having then succeeded to the dukedom in Milan, Lorenzo arranged a different sort of entertainment, lavish to be sure, but also meant to exhibit the vigor of Florentine culture and the depth of the city’s piety. Instead of the parades of arms, jousts, and caccie or­ga­nized by his grandfather in concert with the Signoria, he ordained a series of performances of the still relatively new sacre rappresentazioni, which were dramatically and poetically novel, musically embellished, and mag­nifi­cently staged. Whatever the intended effect, it is clear from contemporary accounts that Galeazzo Maria himself was bored by the ­cultural and religious emphasis. Having endured the performance of the Annunciation play in Santa Felice, he cut short his attendance at the Ascension play in the Carmine and refused even to attend the play in Santo Spirito (thus missing the fire), and doubtless would have been more amused by 146

civic ritual i jousts and bear-baiting. Nevertheless, despite Lorenzo’s miscalculation of his guest’s temperament, while it may be true in the narrow sense that his appropriation of the recently invented sacre rappresentazioni for po­lit­i­cal purposes was unprecedented, his seizing of a diplomatic occasion as an opportunity to identify the city’s honor with that of the Medici most certainly was not. As Richard Trexler has written of Lorenzo’s grandfather Cosimo, an im­por­tant means by which the Medici enhanced their position was to “support communal festivities so lavishly that their communal character was overlaid, and confused with, a Medicean quality.”53 This applies to the ceremonial welcoming of distinguished visitors to the city, including not only Pius II in 1459, but also Eugenius IV in 1434, and the Greek delegation to the Council of Florence in 1439, which had been a diplomatic triumph for Cosimo, and in which he played a conspicuous role. Undoubtedly the origin of such fusing of Medicean honor with that of the city arose with Cosimo’s own patronage, certainly initiated not long after his return from exile in 1434, of the Compagnia de’Magi, a lay confraternity that had been in existence at least since 1390, which managed the religious spectacle of the pro­ces­sion of the Magi performed ev­ery January 6 in celebration of the Feast of the Epiphany, and upon which the identity of his family and supporters was indelibly impressed.54 The dominating presence of the Me­ dici in the Compagnia is famously documented by Benozzo Gozzoli’s frescoes of the Procession of the Magi in the private chapel of the Medici Palace, dating to 1459, in which por147

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture traits of the living Cosimo, his family, and their entourage (including the young Galeazzo Maria Sforza and Sigismondo Malatesta of Rimini) appear in the train of the eastern kings. It is also manifest in Botticelli’s Adoration of the Magi for the Lama Chapel in Santa Maria Novella, painted around 1476, in which we see posthumous portraits of Cosimo and his sons together with his living grandsons, shown prominently (Fig. 17).55 Less well known, but certainly an impressive witness, is Cosimo Rosselli’s Adoration of the Magi (Fig. 20), painted some six years earlier (ca. 1470) for the rooms of San Marco where the Compagnia de’ Magi met, in which Cosimo’s posthumous portrait, based on the medal struck at the time of his death in 1464, again appears, and the horses (as in Gozzoli’s frescoes) display the Medici device of the ring and feathers on their harnesses.56 The cavalcade of the Magi, which was also partly fi­nanced by the city government as an expression of “the honor of the Florentine populace and the excellence of this city,” took the form of a religious civic spectacle with proto-dramatic episodes. The Magi and their entourage paraded through the streets of the city, pausing for an interlude at a place designated “Jerusalem,” where a platform was erected upon which was enthroned Herod, whose wrath they provoked by telling him the reason for their journey. This done, the pro­ces­sion continued to the church of San Marco, designated as “Bethlehem” by a star, where they arrived at a manger and presented their gifts to the Christ child. The origins of the sacra rappresentazione are similarly bound 148

149

Fig. 20. Cosimo Rosselli (school), Adoration of the Magi, Uffizi, Florence.

civic ritual i up with Cosimo’s support for the pious institutions of the city, as we shall see, and are indeed a logical development of the same phenomenon, completing the transformation of liturgical spectacles and such civic spectacles as the parade of  the Magi into structured dramatic representations. His grandson Lorenzo’s staging of three of the most famous new representations for the diplomatic pomp welcoming the Duke of Milan is not so much an appropriation of these religious dramas, which from their beginnings were already iden­ti­fied with Cosimo’s patronage, as it is a continuation of the selfsame pro­cess of fusing civic with family honor. The special interest of this historical phenomenon, which bears directly on our un­der­stand­ing of the development during the Renaissance of new forms of expression in all the arts, derives from the fact that we are here witnesses to the origins of  the “professionalization,” so to speak, of the vernacular forms of public ritual that are normally associated with Lorenzo’s later appropriation of these forms with his patronage of the celebratory mechanics of such rituals as Carnevale, his development and writing of the canti carnascialeschi, his invention of the mascherata, and his commissioning the best poets, artists, composers, trained singers, and musicians for refining the presentations and performances of the popular festivals of the city. Translation of the humanist Latin that had been employed in the creation of Cardinal Orsini’s paintings of the prophets and sibyls into the vernacular cadences of a newly polished ottava rima for use in the sacre rappresentazioni is the direct precedent for Lorenzo’s concept, later 151

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture stated in the preface to the Raccolta aragonese, for ennobling Florentine language and culture by raising them, as the Roman had done in their triumphs, theaters, and poetic competitions, to an expressive excellence that would be equal to Greek and Latin themselves. As we have seen, the sacra rappresentazione as an extended dramatic narrative in ottava rima appeared with astonishing suddenness in Florence at the end of the 1440s, only some half-dozen years prior to the reformed San Giovanni celebrations of 1454. And Feo Belcari, whose Abraham and Isaac was first performed in 1449—the year of Lorenzo de’ Medici’s birth—was, at the very least, a co-inventor of the new ­genre, together with such friends and collaborators as Antonio di Matteo di Meglio (Antonio Araldo), Tomasso Benci, and in particular Piero di Mariano Muzi.57 Belcari was a creature of the Medici, thanks to whose patronage he became, early in his career, a canon of San Lorenzo.58 It was in this capacity that he witnessed in 1430 Niccolò Niccoli’s will entrusting his manuscripts to Cosimo de’ Medici and eleven other executors, whom Cosimo persuaded to honor Niccolò’s wish that they be made publicly accessible by depositing them in the library he had endowed in San Marco. Belcari was twice appointed one of the twelve Buonomini of San Martino, the charitable confraternity founded in 1442, with the blessings of Pope Eugenius IV and the future arch­bishop Antonino Pierozzi (then still prior of San Marco), at the initiative of Cosimo, who was its principal benefactor together with several close friends and po­lit­i­cal allies. Belcari performed a 152

civic ritual i number of his own laude at San Martino, some of which drew special attention to Cosimo’s charity and role as defender of the Church through the building and adornment of religious establishments. The origins of the sacra rappresentazione as a new poetic and dramatic ­genre with both literary and civic ambitions are directly traceable to the learned and devout ambient of Cosimo de’ Medici. A good number of Belcari’s works are directly associated with Cosimo and his family, to several of whom (Cosimo and his sons Giovanni and Piero) he dedicated laude and religious plays, among them, as we have seen, his rap­ presentazione of the Annunciation. The part played by Lucrezia Tornabuoni, Piero de’ Medici’s wife and the mother of Lorenzo, is also especially sig­nifi­cant, for she was herself a vernacular poet. Her earliest works date to the 1440s, and she too composed sacre storie as well as laude and poemetti sacri, that closely emulate Belcari’s poetic language and manner.59 She was, moreover, an im­por­tant patron of poetry in the vernacular, most famously of Luigi Pulci’s Morgante. So too was her son Lorenzo a poet, far more gifted than either his mother or Belcari, and himself a writer of laude and a sacra rappresentazione. Aside from Belcari, the Medicean ambient within which the new sacre rappresentazioni first took shape included the arch­bishop Antonino, Cosimo’s close ally, who, as we have seen, had been anxious to temper the carnival extravagance that had grown up around the preexisting religious spectacles. Earlier, in 1436, Eugenius IV had issued a bull transferring 153

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture the monastery and church of San Marco from the Silvestrines to the Observant Dominicans of Fiesole, and the transfer was completed at the request of the Florentine Signoria acting on the initiative of Cosimo, who undertook the responsibility for the renovation and decoration of the buildings. Seventeen friars left Fiesole to take up residence at San Marco, among them the painter Fra Angelico and the future arch­bishop Antonino, who served as prior from 1439 to 1444.60 In 1443, the dedication of the church and monastery was broadened to include Sts. Cosmas and Damian, the Medici patron saints, in a ceremony that took place on the feast of the Epiphany, the day of the famous pageant of the cavalcade of the Magi or­ga­nized by the Compagnia sponsored by Cosimo. The ceremony was attended by Eugenius IV, who spent that night in Cosimo’s private cell, later decorated by Fra Angelico, whose celebrated San Marco altarpiece, prominently displaying the two new saintly dedicatees, was formally unveiled over the high altar of the church.61 Directly relevant to our narrative, an oratory with a chapel dedicated to Cosmas and Damian (for which Cosimo “gave an altarpiece with the fig­ures of these saints painted on it”) was set aside for the use of the so-called Children’s Company Dedicated to the Purification of the Virgin (the Compagnia della Purificazione della Vergine e di San Zanobi), which had recently separated from the Company of the Nativity at the Servite church of Santissima Annunziata.62 By statute, the youthful members of the company were required to celebrate not only the feast of the Purification of the Virgin (Febru154

civic ritual i ary 2) but also those of St. Zenobius, one of the city’s patrons, and the Medici saints, Cosmas and Damian. Thanks to Cosimo’s support, in 1444 the youths of the Purification Company were permanently located in a structure built adjacent to the gardens of San Marco, for which in 1461 Benozzo Gozzoli, who had recently completed his frescoes of the cavalcade of the Magi for the Medici palace, was given the commission for an altarpiece.63 It is inconceivable that Cosimo was not consulted, and Gozzoli accepted a remarkably detailed contract from the guardian of the Purification Company specifying, among other things, that the central fig­ure of the Virgin be shown on a throne “in the manner and form and with ornaments like and similar to” the Medici altarpiece painted by Fra Angelico for San Marco. Antonino was a powerful patron and reformer of the various compagnie dei fanciulli, the so-called Children’s companies. The term compagnie dei fanciulli is in fact something of a misnomer, for the members of these companies were between the ages of thirteen and twenty-four.64 It was in these companies that the earliest development and performance of the new sacre rappresentazioni occurred. The first sacre rappresentazioni were written by Belcari and his collaborators, among them Piero di Mariano Muzi, the custodian of the Purification Company, to teach doctrine together with the precepts of classical drama and elocution to the youths of the compa­ gnie dei fanciulli. One basic purpose of these companies was catechistical instruction, requiring members to learn by rote such elementary rubrics as the names of the Twelve Apostles 155

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture and Four Evangelists, the seven Beatitudes and seven gifts of the Holy Spirit, the seven sacraments, the three theological and four cardinal virtues, the twenty-four prophets, and so on.65 To this instruction the twelve sibyls were a suitable addition. Moreover, as Paula Ventrone has shown, a further purpose was to give youths training in such rhetorical skills as diction and the proper use of voice together with a mastery of gestures and mimicry according to the rules of classical drama, derived from Terence and Plautus, and the principles of pedagogy as laid down by Quintilian and Cicero.66 The old liturgical spectacles (of which the Ordo Prophetarum performed at Christmas was one of the oldest) had aimed at the visual presentation of a mystery, accompanied by Latin recitation of the relevant biblical texts or simple vernacular paraphrases of them, which in Florence was assisted by ingenious machinery and fireworks. By contrast, the new plays were conceived as narrative plots, however primitive, exploiting classical dramatic structure and the narrative techniques of the cantari, those singers of the chivalric epics in a popularizing mode that from a historical point of view straddled the oral and literary traditions. The new dramas set forth the familiar biblical stories in a more emphatic and colored theatrical diction driven by the re­fined cadences of a newly formalized, and indeed poetically professionalized, ottava rima.67 The origin and development of the new sacre rappresentazioni within the spiritual and instructional context of the reformed compagnie dei fanciulli is crucial. In a papal bull of 24  June 1442, Eugenius IV recognized four such youths’ 156

civic ritual i c­ onfraternities in Florence and established a commission for reforming their governance.68 Membership in this com­ mission  comprised the custodians of the four compagnie dei ­fanciulli themselves, plus the abbot of the newly reformed Badia Fiorentina and the prior of the Observant Dominicans at San Marco—none other than the future arch­bishop Antonino Pierozzi. The confraternities recognized in the bull were: (1) the Compagnia della Natività del Signore (also called the Compagnia della Scala and the Compagnia dell’Arcangelo Raffaello), which had been founded in 1411 at the church of SS. Annunziata; (2) the Compagnia della Purificazione della Beata Vergine Maria e di San Zanobi, which had separated from the Compagnia della Natività in 1427 and moved to San Marco, where, as we have seen, it received support from Cosimo de’ Medici and was governed under reformed statutes approved by Arch­bishop Antonino in 1448; (3) the Compagnia di San Niccolò del Ceppo, which had been founded in 1417 at the church of San Niccolò across the Arno, governed under reformed statutes con­firmed by Antonino in 1450; and (4) the Compagnia di San Giovanni Evangelista, founded in 1427 and governed under reformed statutes con­firmed by Antonino in 1451. In addition, a fifth youths’ confraternity, the Compagnia di Sant’Antonio da Padova, was newly established in 1453 in the monastery of San Giorgio sulla Costa.69 It is highly sig­nifi­cant that Matteo Palmieri lists all four of these original compagnie dei fanciulli as par­tic­i­pants in the reformed feast of San Giovanni in 1454, structured as it was 157

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture around the performance of the very rappresentazioni that had been developed by and were in the charge of these selfsame confraternities. Palmieri names “le compagnie di Iacopo cimatore e Nofri calzaiuolo” and “le compagnie di Ser Antonio e Piero di Mariano.” Richard Trexler has iden­ti­fied these four men as, respectively, the clothcutter Iacopo di Biagio, then the custodian, or guardian, of the Compagnia di San Giovanni Evangelista; the hosier Onofrio di Filippo di Bartolomeo, custodian of the Compagnia di Sant’Antonio da ­Padova; Ser Antonio di Mariano Muzi, custodian of the Compagnia della Natività; and Antonio’s brother, Piero di Mariano Muzi, who was custodian of the Compagnia della Purificazione della Beata Vergine, a collaborator of Belcari’s, and one of the first writers of sacre rappresentazioni.70 As I earlier noted, Nerida Newbigin suggests that several rappresentazioni performed in the piazza della Signoria for the feast of San Giovanni in 1454 by the par­tic­i­pants in the edifizi listed by Palmieri very plausibly correspond to surviving texts for early rappresentazioni and may be understood as being, at the very least, early versions of those plays as they are known to us in later manuscript and printed sources. The sequence of floats displaying Augustus and the Tiburtine sibyl, for example, followed by the Templum pacis with the Nativity, which Palmieri describes in detail, closely corresponds to the narrative of La rappresentazione della natività del nostro Signore, also known under the title Stanze della festa di Otaviano Imperadore, a play for which performances are otherwise not documented before 1465. In Newbigin’s view, which she puts forward with 158

civic ritual i commendable caution, the text for this performance of the Nativity play in the San Giovanni celebrations of 1454 (as well as for other rappresentazioni enacted in the Piazza della Signoria that year) “is perhaps best imagined as a basic text, a scenario from which the festaiuoli selected from year to year, interpolating those parts which served their purposes, as happened with Belcari’s Annunciation play, the Dì del Giudizio play by Belcari and Araldo, and the play of San Giovanni nel deserto by Belcari and Benci.”71 In other words, there is a powerful likelihood that a version of Belcari’s Annunciation play, and certainly the list of prophesies recited by “più profeti e sibille”—the Old Testament prophets and pagan sibyls—existed in some form by 1454. The final essential piece of evidence preserving the vernacular octaves transmitting the verses paraphrasing the Latin of the Orsini sibyls’ epigrams is Baccio Baldini’s set of twelve fine-manner engravings of each of the sibyls. They constitute the earliest surviving Florentine visualization of the appearances of the sibyls that can be shown to derive directly from a written de­scrip­tion of the Orsini paintings. Taken together with the larger series of which they are a part, which includes engravings of twenty-four prophets, they also are the first presentation of a full Ordo Prophetarum. The vernacular octaves appear at the bottom of Baldini’s engravings. The same is true of the octaves contemporaneously composed for the prophets. Although Baldini’s engravings of the sibyls follow Cardinal Orsini’s new canon, in particular for the at­trib­utes assigned to each of them (their forma), they cannot therefore 159

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture be used as an index for reconstructing the ac­tual appearances of the cardinal’s paintings. Rather, their strikingly inventive and exotic representation and costume more closely approximate the ways in which they undoubtedly appeared in the new rappresentazioni. Baldini (ca. 1436–87) is the leading master of the first generation of Florentine engravers, which included the niellist Maso Finiguerra, named by Vasari as the first to introduce the medium of engraving to Italy around the year 1460 (“Il principio dunque dell’ intagliare le stampe venne da Maso Finiguerra fiorentino circa gli anni di nostra salute 1460”), but from whose hand no copper-plate engravings are known.72 This is not surprising, given Finiguerra’s death in 1464 at age thirty-eight. Nor is it surprising given his association with Piero di Bartolomeo di Salì as partner in one of the most im­por­tant goldsmith shops in Florence, which was constantly occupied with im­por­tant commissions for major churches, including the Duomo and Baptistry, for which Finiguerra produced his masterpiece, a niello pax of the Coronation of the Virgin. He also worked for such distinguished private patrons as Giovanni Rucellai, who mentions Finiguerra in his zibaldone as a “maestro del disegno,” placing him on a level with no less an artist than Antonio Pollaiuolo, the only other master so described.73 Indeed, at the time of Finiguerra’s death, Pollaiuolo, whose Battle of the Nude Men is the undisputed masterpiece of fif­teenth-century Florentine engraving, was also a partner in the Salì shop, to which he had transferred around 1460 from a rival goldsmith’s bottega.74 The effect of 160

civic ritual i Pollaiuolo’s proximity is clearly discernible in Finiguerra’s drawings, especially of the nude fig­ure, which effectively occupy a middle ground between Benozzo Gozzoli’s naturalistic depictions of youthful garzoni and the intensely energetic linearity of Pollaiuolo’s representations of bodies in flex or active movement.75 Baldini too was a goldsmith and niellist, and it is reasonable to suppose that he also worked in the shop of Salì and Finiguerra—whose drawings and nielli he knew and indeed adapted for his own work—though he never rose, as did Pollaiuolo, to the level of partnership, a circumstance that may partially account for the absence of his name from the documentary rec­ord. Although the estimable Arthur Hind had for this reason followed Sidney Colvin, his illustrious predecessor as keeper of prints and drawings at the British Museum, in calling into question Vasari’s unfortunately sparse account of Baldini’s activity as an engraver (“Fu seguito costui [Finiguerra] da Baccio Baldini orefice fiorentino, il quale, non ­avendo molto disegno, tutto quello che fece fu con invenzione e disegno di Sandro Botticello”), Konrad Oberhuber’s lucid analysis of the prob­lem has resulted in the vindiction of Baldini’s central role in the infancy of the medium.76 There can be little doubt that he is the “Baccio orafo” who was buried in San Lorenzo on 12 December 1487, and recent close study has lent strong support to John Goldsmith Phillips’s claim that the inscription “BB” appearing on a plaque of the Last Supper in the Metropolitan Museum of Art (Fig. 21), one of twenty nielli adorning a crucifix reliquary from the destroyed 161

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture convent of Santa Chiara in Florence, iden­ti­fies Baldini as its maker.77 Oberhuber has, moreover, established the stylistic and technical congruity of a small group of niello plaques with the Metropolitan Museum crucifix and an accomplished pax of the Crucifixion in the Bargello, which is a copy of Finiguerra’s exquisite niello of the same subject now in the National Gallery of Art in Washington. He was also able to show the stylistic and technical affinities shared by these nielli with the im­por­tant group of fine-manner engravings made in the early years after the introduction of the new medium into Florence, all of which are attributable to Baldini, including the series of prophets and sibyls, the planets, and the famous illustrations to Dante’s Inferno engraved after Botticelli’s drawings and printed in Cristoforo Landino’s 1481 edition of the Commedia. “It results from all this,” Oberhuber concluded, “that all the best prints produced in Florence in this initial period are, in some manner, either inspired by drawings by the great niellist [Finiguerra] or connected to his shop or school.”78 As Mark Zucker went on to show, Oberhuber’s find­ings have permitted the attribution of more than one hundred engravings to Baldini’s hand. His shop (no doubt Salì’s shop after Finiguerra’s death in 1464) was the most prolific in Florence in the making of engravings during the crucial incunabular de­cades of the 1470s and 1480s. Vasari’s characterization of Baldini as merely an epigone of Botticelli has been the cause of unnecessary confusion, resulting in the critical nullity that disparages the engraver for no reason other than 162

Fig. 21. Last Supper (detail from Processional Cross), Florentine, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

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civic ritual i that he is not Botticelli. In fact, he never set out to be Botticelli, as his engravings amply testify. Baldini’s responses to the manners of such artists as Pollaiuolo and Finiguerra (and, through Finiguerra, Filippo Lippi) have been carefully traced and acknowledged, and so too has his precocious knowledge and adaptation of works by northern European engravings, especially, as we shall see, the Master ES. As Oberhuber has described it, he is not a draftsman on the level of Finiguerra (who in turn is not the equal of Pollaiuolo), being less adept at spatial representation and coarser in delineating forms. But Oberhuber also justly observed that Vasari’s rather dusty dismissal of Baldini’s capacities as a draftsman is mistaken. In his best work he evinces a real feeling for threedimensional form, as well as for the effects of soft light and shadow quite foreign to Botticelli’s characteristic manner, which is better approximated in the engravings of Francesco Rosselli, but closer to the naturalistic taste of Fra Filippo Lippi as nurtured by Maso Finiguerra. Especially noteworthy in his art is what might be called a goldsmith’s or, more precisely, a niellist’s aesthetic as deployed in engravings that are, like the Sibyls and the illustrations to the Commedia, surprisingly small in size and informed by a miniaturist’s taste for exquisite effect. In fact, Baldini possessed a personal style quite his own, one capable of transforming his models to the point of rendering them almost invisible. His style was ideally adapted to the expression of that peculiar blend of popular, chivalric, devotional, and humanist cultures that is so characteristic of Medicean Florence. 165

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Baldini’s engravings of the twelve sibyls are, as we have seen, part of a larger series that also includes engravings of twenty-four Prophets, the two together making an expanded version of a complete Ordo prophetarum. They depict each of the sibyls and prophets, as Mâle was the first to notice, in charmingly fanciful, quasi-theatrical costumes that undoubtedly re­flect their appearances in the sacre rappresentazioni.79 Each engraving is completed at the bottom of the sheet by a poetic octave in the vernacular, that is, by a stanza in ottava rima setting forth each individual prophecy. There are thirtysix octaves in all, twenty-three of which, as Mâle was again the first to point out, reproduce the prophetic verses recited by the prophets and sibyls in the rappresentazione of the Annunciation at­trib­uted to Feo Belcari.80 It is therefore quite likely that the engravings re­flect in some sense the lavish production of this play staged for Galeazzo Maria Sforza’s state visit to Florence in 1471, and that the appearances of the prophets and sibyls, if they do not faithfully reproduce the costumes created for that performance, nevertheless strongly evoke them. Baldini’s fine-manner series was extremely popular and was reissued several times before the plates were exhausted. It was then reproduced, in Zucker’s happy phrase, in “modi­fied copies” made in the 1480s by Francesco Rosselli, brother of the painter Cosimo Rosselli, himself an illuminator of manuscripts and an artist much closer than Baldini to Botticelli’s sensibility, who was the principal prac­ti­tioner of the new broad-manner style of engraving.81 The easily discernible technical and expressive differences produced by 166

civic ritual i Baldini’s fine-manner prints, soft and atmospheric in effect, and Rosselli’s broad-manner engravings, which reproduce the sharpness and linear clarity of pen drawing, are especially ascribable, on the one hand, to Baldini’s use of the niellist’s round-section burin, or ciappola, a tool typically used by goldsmiths; and, on the other hand, to Rosselli’s adoption of the newly invented lozenge-section, or true engraver’s burin, to which he was presumably introduced by some German engraver during his stay at the court of Matthias Corvinus at Buda in Hungary between 1480 and 1482.82 Baldini’s series of prophets and sibyls is comparable, as has often been pointed out, to the inventive vocabulary developed by leading artists of his time, among them Botticelli, Verrocchio, and the Pollaiuolo brothers. Strong comparisons can be found for the representation of seated fig­ures on clouds or mag­nifi­cent thrones shown in oddly splayed perspective among the productions of those artists associated with the Salì shop, among them Pollaiuolo’s silver plaques of the enthroned Moses and St. Gregory decorating the cross he made in 1457–59 for the Baptistry in Florence, a niello print by Finiguerra in the Louvre with the enthroned Madonna between Sts. Alban and Stephen, and even the enameled seated saints created by Salì for the vestments of Pius II in Siena.83 Especially pertinent are the paintings of the seven enthroned cardinal and theological virtues painted by Piero Pollaiuolo (Fig. 22) and Botticelli between 1469 and 1471 for the wainscoting of the wall above the tribunal of the six magistrates of the Mercanzia (the anonimo Gaddiano de167

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture scribes the series as being placed “nella spalliera di Sei”).84 Comparable too are the two panels depicting Lactantius’s ten sibyls in Christ Church, Oxford.85 They were painted in Botticelli’s studio in the early 1470s, one panel being at­trib­uted to Botticelli himself, the other without doubt painted by the teen-age Filippino Lippi at a time when, according to the rec­ ords of the Confraternity of St. Luke in 1472, he was still apprenticed as a young “dipintore chon Sandro Botticelli.” The sibyls, five in each panel, appear in the order given by Lactantius and omit Cardinal Orsini’s new sibyls, Europa and Agrippa. Their prophecies, labeled the “Dicta Sibyllarum,” bear no relation to those invented for the Orsini paintings. As Creighton Gilbert has shown, they derive from Lactantius, but for the most part do not repeat the sibylline utterances conventionally abstracted from the Divinae institutions via St. Augustine and others.86 Nor do they pertain to the Incarnation, much less to the whole of Christ’s life. Instead, almost all derive from the seventh book of the Divinae institutions, the subject of which is de ultimo futuro iudicio, and in combination they constitute a coherent and uni­fied prophecy of the Last Judgment, but one in­de­pen­dently composed and not simply a repetition of the traditional Iudicii signum. Such an emphasis on the Last Judgment rather than the Incarnation is virtually unique after the establishment of the Orsini canon for the sibyls, as is the absence of any reference at all to the Orsini epigrams. Despite their profound differences in content, however, in terms of stylistic conception and presentation the ten seated sibyls bear similarities to Baldini’s engravings. 168

Fig. 22. Piero del Pollaiuolo, Prudence, Uffizi, Florence.

civic ritual i Baldini’s true artistic peers, however, are to be found among those charming and popularizing artists, by no means to be scorned, who were satellites in orbit around such grander fig­ ures as Filippo Lippi, Botticelli, Ghirlandaio, and Cosimo Rosselli, with whom they often collaborated as assistants on major commissions but who appear only as indistinct blurs at the outer edge of Vasari’s radar screen. Some, like Baldini, received only the briefest of mentions in the Vite, others none at all, and none was given even a short biography. As a result, many remain anonymous, although patient archival research done hand in hand with close stylistic analysis has restored names to a surprising number of worthy artists. The PseudoPierfrancesco Fiorentino, perhaps better called the Lippi-Pesellino Imitator, and the painters Berenson named the Master of the Johnson Nativity (Domenico di Zanobi?) and the Master of the Castello Nativity (Piero di Lorenzo?) remain anonymous, even though plausible identities have tentatively been proposed for the latter two. The Master of the Adimari cassone, on the other hand, has been iden­ti­fied as Giovanni di ser Giovanni, called lo Scheggia, none other than Masaccio’s brother, and the Master of Santo Spirito has recently been shown to be one or both of the brothers Donnino and ­Agnolo del Mazziere, who were formed in the shop of Cosimo Rosselli and together maintained a shop of their own.87 Baldini’s inventive fancy, as we find it expressed in his engravings and in his drawings for the Florentine Picture Chronicle, is especially aligned with that of Apollonio di Giovanni, the cassone painter first iden­ti­fied and reconstructed as an 171

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture artistic personality by E. H. Gombrich, and who also, shortly before his death in 1464, illuminated the celebrated Riccar­ diana Virgil (MS 492).88 In the Virgil we find pictorialized, in the words of Giovanna Lazzi, “the Rome of Aeneas transferred to the banks of the Arno,” the familiar heroes of ancient story reenacting their historic roles in Florence itself.89 The Trojan heroes imagined by Apollonio, like Baldini’s prophets, wear beards and fancifully varied hats “alla grecanica,” their exotic costumes and hair stylings imitating those worn by the Byzantine Greeks who accompanied the emperor  John Paleologus to the Council of Florence in 1439. Their ­women are depicted with patiently arranged veils, huge mazzocchi, and twin-peaked hennins (those headpieces called corne and selle by the Florentines) in the Burgundian style. All appear in richly elaborate costumes, quasi-theatrical disguisements that take as their point of departure the court finery and liveries of the fif­teenth century. Figures at one and the same time familiar and exotic, they play their ancient roles in a purely Florentine cityscape that includes such readily identifiable buildings as the Baptistry and the recently completed Palazzo Medici. Baldini may also be compared to another painter of cassoni and domestic furnishings, brilliantly iden­ti­fied by Luciano Bellosi as Lo Scheggia (1410–86).90 Scheggia was especially favored by the Medici, as the inventory of the Medici Palace made at the time of Lorenzo the Magnificent’s death attests, and it was he who painted Lorenzo’s own desco da parto now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Especially compa172

civic ritual i rable to Baldini’s Prophets and Sibyls are two cassone fronts in the Cambò collection in the Museu de Art de Catalunya in Barcelona, one by Scheggia depicting the seven enthroned cardinal and theological virtues, the other by his son Antonfrancesco with the seven liberal arts.91 They were painted late in Scheggia’s career, and, like Baldini’s engravings of the prophets and sibyls, ultimately re­flect the inventions by Piero Pollaiuolo and Botticelli for the cardinal and theological virtues in the Tribunal of the Mercanzia. The same is true of the domestic paintings by Biagio d’Antonio, who in partnership with Jacopo Sellaio shared a shop with Lo Scheggia and his son in the early 1470s.92 It is also true of the Botticellesque panel in the Corsini Palace in Florence, which shows five allegorical fig­ures seated, as are many of Baldini’s sibyls, on thrones of cloud, an old-fashioned device used by the engraver that was also ­adopted by a far greater artist, Ghirlan­ daio, for his frecoes of four sibyls in the vault of the Sassetti Chapel, painted between 1479 and 1485.93 Given the profound rooting of Baldini’s Prophets and Sibyls in the religious festivals and artistic traditions of Florence, in short given their very “Florentineness,” it is at first startling (and charming) to discover how closely Baldini studied, and how faithfully he adapted, the engravings of the Master ES, the supreme master of the second generation of engravers in Germany, whose latest prints are dated 1467, in which year or the year following he presumably died. The connection was originally noticed by Mariette, but for our knowledge of the extent of Baldini’s de­pen­dence on ES we are especially in173

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture debted to the sharp eye of Max Lehrs.94 Three of Baldini’s sibyls are derived with astonishing literalness from ES’s series of the Four Seated Evangelists.95 For the Libyan sibyl (no. 2), Baldini painstakingly copied the drapery pattern and folds from ES’s engraving of the Evangelist John (Lehrs 91; Fig. 23); for the Delphic sibyl (no. 3), ES’s Evangelist Mark (Lehrs 89; Fig. 24); and for the Tiburtine sibyl (no. 10), ES’s Evangelist Matthew (Lehrs 88; Fig. 25). Similarly, the costume and drapery folds of the Hellespontine sibyl (n. 8) copy ES’s St. Thomas (Lehrs 117; Fig. 26) from a second series, the Twelve Seated Apostles. This latter series also provided models for a number of Baldini’s prophets. The prophet Amos (Hind C.I.15; Fig. 27) is derived from ES’s St. Paul (Lehrs 113; Fig. 28), the prophet Obadiah (Hind C.I.16) from ES’s St. Peter (Lehrs 112), the prophet Isaiah (Hind C.I.24) from ES’s St. James the Greater (Lehrs 115), and the prophet Malachi (Hind C.I.22) from ES’s Judas Thaddeus (Lehrs 123). Some of Baldini’s adaptations from ES are quite inventive. For example, while the fig­ure of Baldini’s prophet Ezekiel (Hind C.I.12) copies ES’s St. John (Lehrs 116), the head is instead taken from ES’s St. Peter (Lehrs 112). In like manner, for the right hand and sleeve of the prophet Habakkuk (Hind C.I.19) Baldini returned to ES’s Judas Thaddeus (Lehrs 123). He was especially captivated by the motif of fluttering drapery swirling decoratively behind the back of the woman shown in ES’s Lady with a Helm and Buckler (Lehrs 220; Fig. 29), which he added as an embellishment to the costumes of the Libyan sibyl (no. 2), the European sibyl (no. 11), and the prophet Haggai (Hind C.I.20). 174

Fig. 23. Master ES, The Evangelist John, British Museum, London.

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Fig. 24. Master ES, The Evangelist Mark, British Museum, London.

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Fig. 25. Master ES, The Evangelist Matthew, British Museum, London.

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Fig. 26. Master ES, Saint Thomas, British Museum, London.

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Fig. 27. Baccio Baldini (at­trib­uted), The Prophet Amos, British Museum, London.

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Fig 28. Master ES, Saint Paul, British Museum, London.

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Fig. 29. Master ES, Lady with a Helmet and Shield, British Museum, ­London.

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civic ritual i Finally, and surprisingly, for the prophet Daniel (Hind C.I.13; Fig. 30), Baldini turned to ES’s follower Martin Schongauer (ca. 1450–91) and faithfully copied the enthroned Pilate in the youn­ger engraver’s Christ Before Pilate (Fig. 31).96 Despite the literalness with which Baldini copied his German models, however, stylistically he remains purely Florentine. He used ES’s engravings as a kind of template for arranging his fig­ures and their draperies, down to the last crease, but whereas ES is a supreme master of outline and pattern, Baldini bathes his fig­ures in soft light and shadow and endows them with a robust three-dimensionality. The knees and lower limbs of the sibyl Europa (no. 11), for example, or of the Erythraean and Cimmerian sibyls (nos. 5 and 4), pro­ ject outward like sculptured blocks, and light and shadow are  effectively calibrated to enhance the feeling of weight and  monumentality. Such effects, as Zucker has noted, are strengthened by Baldini’s designing many of his fig­ures so that their feet and draperies overlap the borders separating the images from the poetic octaves inscribed beneath them. This device, familiar from Florentine painting, greatly enhances the illusion of three-dimensional existence in space and is employed, for example, by Baldini for the prophets Samuel, David, Solomon, Elisha, Jeremiah, Baruch, Ezekiel, Joel, Amos, Jonah, and, in particular, Malachi (Hind C.I5.5, 6, 7, 8, 10, 11, 12, 14, 15, 17, and 22). It is also used for the Cumaean sibyl (no 7) and the sibyl Europa (no. 11), and the celestial sphere and the sword at the feet of the Erythraean and Samian sibyls, respectively (nos. 5 and 6), like the prophet 189

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Isaiah’s at­trib­ute of the saw (Hind C.I.24), similarly proj­ect beyond the dividing line between the fig­ures and their versified prophecies, and in so doing create the illusion of a spatial environment adequate to accommodate the fig­ures. Especially noticeable, of course, are Baldini’s considerable changes in the costuming of his fig­ures, which in ES is generic but in Baldini is a fascinating mixture of the exotic and familiar. His Samian sibyl (no. 6), for example, wears a Burgundian single-peaked hennin, but the mantle framing her face at its base, as well as the collar of her dress, are both richly damasked with exotic pseudo-cufic lettering that is completely foreign to Burgundian dress. Moreover, her gown is Florentine, woven with the pomegranate pattern so familiar from portraits of ­women from the 1460s and 1470s, variants of which can be seen in portraits by Pollaiuolo, for example, as well as the Lady in Red in London or the sculptured Portrait of a Lady, tentatively ascribed to the circle of Verrocchio, in the National Gallery of Art in Washington.97 The hybrid and faintly exotic effect thus created is characteristic of costume designs, which combine the familiar with the foreign and the wholly imaginary. Baldini’s explicit depiction of quasi-theatrical costume is especially evident in the fanciful headdresses worn by the sibyls: in the helmets of the Delphic and Tiburtine sibyls (nos. 3 and 10), for example; in the pretty little wreath forming the base for a metal cap with feathers displayed by the Libyan sibyl (no. 2); in the birds’ wings held in place by a fillet worn by the Cimmerian sibyl (no. 4); in the Moorish head- and neck-swaddling of the Hellespontine 190

Fig. 30. Baccio Baldini (at­trib­uted), The Prophet Daniel, British Museum, London.

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Fig. 31. Martin Schongauer, Christ Before Pilate, British Museum, London.

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civic ritual i sibyl (no. 8); and in the Phrygian sibyl’s Ottoman helmet (no.  9). Costuming is also apparent in other details of the sibyls’ dress. It is suf­fi­cient to mention the Phrygian sibyl’s unbound hair and bared arm (no. 9), the Libyan sibyl’s richly damasked robe (no. 2), the Cumaean sibyl’s gilded dress with feathery dagged edges at the elbows of her sleeves (no. 7), and the extraordinary scalelike gilded sleeves worn by the sibyl Europa (no. 11), so reminiscent of Flora’s costume in the Primavera.98 Of particular interest is the peaked hat worn by the Persian sibyl (no. 1), which is much truer to Burgundian fashion than that worn by the Samian sibyl (no. 6). So too is the neckpiece she wears, properly termed a collar rather than a necklace, which close inspection reveals to be a close-fitting choker adorned with alternating gems and enameled flowers, with pendant beads at the bottom.99 Although Baldini does not render the collar in close detail, it is startlingly similar to the one worn by Maria Maddalena Baroncelli, wife of Tomaso Portinari, the representative of the Medici to the court of Charles the Bold and manager of the Medici Bank in Bruges, as she was portrayed by Hans Memling at the time of her wedding in 1470 (Fig. 32).100 In the portrait, Maria Mad­ dalena appears, unsurprisingly, in Burgundian dress, wearing a single-peaked hennin anchored by a black velvet head-mantel and rising to a conical peak wrapped with a sheer veil that spreads downward to her shoulders. Her highly distinctive neck collar, the same as the one she again proudly wore when portrayed by Hugo van der Goes in the Portinari Altarpiece, 195

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture is comprised of a string of jet beads (or black pearls) from which is suspended a stiffened cord of loosely knotted gold loops appliquéd with enameled five-lobed flowers set with pearls, sapphires, and rubies, at the bottom of which hang small silver and gold pendants. Baldini’s Persian sibyl remarkably matches all these details of costume (including a slender cord from which is presumably suspended a jewel or crucifix beneath her bodice), even though her collar is not described in the same stunning detail as Maria Maddalena Baroncelli’s in Memling’s portrait. Nor are the two collars by any means identical. Nevertheless, the design of both is as distinctively identifiable as would be one by Cartier. The prototype for such twisted gold collars was almost certainly created by Gerard Loyet, goldsmith and varlet de chambre for Charles the Bold, at the time of the duke’s own marriage in 1468 to Margaret of York, sister of Edward IV of Eng­land.101 Margaret’s twisted gold collar was also suspended from beads, and it was adorned with enameled red and white roses, just as we see it rendered in loving detail in an anonymous portrait of her in the Louvre, painted about a de­cade after her marriage (Fig. 33).102 Tomaso Portinari’s name is frequently mentioned in the account books of Charles the Bold’s argentier, who was Loyet’s paymaster, and it is more than plausible that he commissioned Maria’s collar directly from Loyet, or even that it was a wedding gift from the duke himself.103 Either possibility would explain the special value Portinari assigned the collar by having it reproduced in two portraits of his wife, each by an outstanding Flemish painter. 196

Fig. 32. Hans Memling, Maria Maddalena Baroncelli, Wife of Tomaso Portinari, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.

197

Fig. 33. Unknown artist, Portrait of Margaret of York, Louvre, Paris.

civic ritual i And it explains Baldini’s adorning of the Persian sibyl with a non-Florentine collar of great value and royal connotations. Even so, in other respects the Persian sibyl’s dress is recognizably Florentine. This appears especially in her sleeves, which are open with ties below the elbow (called fenestrelle) so that her underlying chemise billows out in airy puffs, as well as in the string of pearls, commonplace in portraits of Flor­ entine ­women of the period, arranged at her forehead instead of the velvet loop so characteristic of Burgundian hennins.104 The elaborately damasked hem of her gown, on the other hand, is entirely fanciful, as is the richly ornamented band that covers her shoulders and breast, worked in a fishscale pattern with suspended pearls that substitutes for the Burgundian flat ermine collar shown in Memling’s portrait of Maria Maddalena and in many other Flemish paintings of the period. Once again elements of the exotic, the foreign, and the familiar are artfully combined in the imagining of a costume appropriate to an ancient prophetess. The contemporary Burgundian and Florentine elements that appear intermixed with the purely fanciful in these costumes are all consistent with a dating of Baldini’s prints to the 1470s, when the fashions to which the images allude first became popular. They also suggest that fresh in Baldini’s mind when he made the engravings were the lavish and pompously decorated costumes devised for the sibyls and prophets in the performance of the Annunciation play in San Felice at the time of Galeazzo Maria Sforza’s state visit to Florence in 1471. Although his images are not to be understood as liter201

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture ally reproducing the ac­tual appearance of each of those costumes, they nevertheless undoubtedly do give a reliable sense of their general character and effect. The special interest of the phenomena of the sacre rappresentazioni, the costumes designed for them, and their staging in the churches and civic festivals of Florence, derives from the fact that we are here witness to the origins of the professionalization, so to speak, of the vernacular forms of public ritual that is normally associated with Lorenzo de’ Medici’s later intervention in these rituals (trivialized by some historians as merely offering the public pane et circenses [bread and circuses]). This pro­cess of professionalization can be seen in his own writing of canti carnascialeschi, his invention of the mascherata, and his commissioning of the finest poets, composers, musicians, singers, and artist for the presentation, costuming, and performance of the popular festivals of the city. For the mascherate, new poems for singing were composed by the best poets (Lorenzo himself and Poliziano among them), music to accompany them was written by professional composers (including Heinrich Isaac) and sung by trained singers, banners and edifizi were designed and adorned by such distinguished artists as Botticelli, Verrocchio, and Pollaiuolo, and new, sumptuous costumes were designed and created. However, Belcari and Muzi’s new sacre rappresentazioni, and in particular the translation under the aegis of Cosimo and Arch­bishop Antonino of the humanist Latin used for the creation of Cardinal Orsini’s paintings of the sibyls into the vernacular cadences of a poetically polished ottava rima, is 202

civic ritual i the direct precedent for Lorenzo’s concept, as stated in the preface to the Raccolta Aragonese, of perfecting Florentine language and culture by raising them, as the Greeks and Romans had done in their competitions, athletic games, theaters, and military triumphs, to an unheard-of expressive excellence that would equal and even surpass the ancients. Aby Warburg was right to emphasize the importance of festival pageants, in which the fig­ures of religion and ancient myth appeared before the Florentines “not as plaster casts, but in person, as fig­ures full of life and color.” Warburg’s examples of the in­flu­ence of festival celebrations included that of costumes such as those seen in Baldini’s engravings, Botticelli’s Primavera (in which Flora appears in a painted quasi-theatrical dress and Mercury carries a bejeweled parade falchion), Mars and Venus (with the god’s armor shown as a contemporary sallet and jousting lance), and Pallas and the Centaur (with Pallas’s dress adorned with Me­ dicean emblems). His special example, of course, was the fig­ ure of the nymph dressed all’antica, who continued as a favorite masquerade fig­ure well into the next century, in support of which Warburg cited a note on costuming for the GrandDucal intermezzi written by the actor Leone de’ Sommi, specifying that “Nymphs should wear camicie di donna, variously embroidered but with sleeves; and my custom is to have them starched, so that when they are tied with cords or straps of colored or gold silk [fenestrelle] they puff out a little . . . and it would not be unseemly for some to bind up their tresses with silk ribbons covered with those extremely fine veils fall203

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture ing down over the shoulders that add so much loveliness to civic dress.”105 Note well that De’ Sommi here does not, like Warburg, describe these costumes as all’antica but instead as civilian dress (civil vestire), which he describes according to the fashions worn in the festivals of the good old days as painted a century earlier by Botticelli and Sellaio, dress that was, in De’ Sommi’s words, puro e semplice, and as such appropriate for the simple nymphs of the fields and forests. In Botticelli himself, however, we are witness to the transformation into the highest art of a distinctly contemporary Florentine culture that had been mea­sured and tested against the supreme achievements of antiquity in art and literature and thereby perfected as an expression of present-day experience. This was not undertaken as a rebirth, or renaissance, of the lost classical past, but instead as a renovatio of the living present mea­sured against the achievement of that past. In this effort the celebrations attending the various civic festivals, as already conceived by Lorenzo’s grandfather Cosimo de’ Medici, played a cardinal role.

= As I stated out the outset, the term “Renaissance” as we understand it derives from nineteenth-century usage, but I am not concerned to abandon it as a period de­scrip­tion of the years roughly extending from 1300 to 1550. It is indeed a concept to which I am profoundly committed. I would perhaps prefer the nearest fif­teenth-century equivalent, however, which is renovatio, especially as applied to the renovatio litteris, or re204

civic ritual i making of literature, and also to the renovatio mundi, in metaphorical terms a renewal of culture that derives from the miraculous rejuvenation of the world each spring, much as we find it celebrated in Botticelli’s Primavera. Panofsky considered and rejected this term (which had been advocated by Burchard), which, as he observed, was the designation employed among the scholars of Charlemagne’s court, who often referred to a Carolingian renovatio. As he wrote, when Charlemagne “set out to reform po­lit­i­cal and ecclesiastical administration, communications and the calendar, art and literature, and—as a basis for all this—script and language . . . his guiding idea was the renovatio imperii romani” (something perhaps uncomfortably close to Burchard’s Fascist apologetics). And, he added, “all these efforts served, to use the contemporary phrase, to bring about an aurea Roma iterum renovata.”106 Since, by the terms of Panofsky’s larger argument, this renovatio, im­por­tant as it was, was incomplete—a proto-Renaissance or renascence—he preferred to abandon the term until the true Renaissance, when classical form and content came to be permanently reunited. In a particular sense, however, I think he was mistaken, which was in thinking that the foundation of the new culture of the true Renaissance was uniquely based in the revival of antiquity, “a golden Rome renewed again” as conceived by Charlemagne. The renovatio dreamed of by Lorenzo and Cosimo before him, both great patrons of humanist studies, and the renovatio de­fined by Lorenzo in the preface to the Raccolta Aragonese was a remaking of the present, its language, arts, and culture, by 205

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture assimilating the two great cultures of Italy, both Latin and Ital­ian, and testing the results against the standards and achievements of the ancients. “It was not by chance,” wrote Eugenio Garin in 1979, “that Poliziano passed from Greek to Latin and then to the vernacular in refining his style, and his vernacular at its most re­fined takes up the popularizing tendencies of the Florentine vernacular . . . and in doing this the totality [of his style] is accessible to ev­ery­one, aristocratic in the extreme and utterly popular, supremely ideal and completely real: umanissima.”107 In such a way the achievements of the present might surpass the ancients, and the dream of the humanist Incarnationist theologians of a culture more perfect than that of the age of Augustus, of a world thus made worthy of the Second Coming, might find its realization.

206

FOUR

Civic Ritual II

=

RECONSTRUCTING T HE VERNAC ULAR OCTAVES WITH THE PROPHECIES OF THE TWELVE SIBYLS

1.  Baccio Baldini’s Engravings of the Sibyls and Cardinal Orsini’s formae Sibyllarum Baccio Baldini’s fine-­manner engravings of the twenty-­four prophets and Francesco Rosselli’s broad-­manner copies after them each include the name of an Old Testament prophet together with an octave rendering his prophecy. With few exceptions, however, they do not contain Latin epigrams. The engravings of the twelve sibyls, on the other hand, all display a Latin epigramma (to use Poggio Bracciolini’s terminology) for each individual sibyl, as well as her nomen and either a translation or close paraphrase of her prophecy as set out in the vernacular rhythms of ottava rima. These epigrammata directly derive from a manuscript de­scrip­tion of Cardinal Or­ sini’s sibyls (including Europa and Agrippa), as do their 209

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture nomina and their individual formae—that is, their descriptive characteristics and at­trib­utes—which Baldini followed in giving the sibyls visual form.1 No original text or texts of the Orsini sibyls can be iden­ ti­fied. Copies exist in Liège, Tongerloo, Olmütz, Brussels, Munich, Stuttgart, and Florence (Biblioteca Mediceo-­ Laurenziana, Ashburnam 1190).2 Each differs in detail and completeness from the others. Emile Mâle was unaware of the existence of these manuscripts when he wrote his classic, and still indispensable, studies of the sibyls.3 He therefore associated Baldini’s engravings with a slightly later compendium titled Sibyllarum de Christo vaticina, which was included in a miscellany of essays first published in two editions of 1481 by the Dominican friar Filippo Barbieri. Mâle demonstrated that it was from this publication that the new canon for the sibyls was rapidly disseminated in Italy and throughout the whole of Europe, and since he knew of no earlier de­scrip­tion of these sibyls, nor even of the existence of the Orsini sibyls, he erroneously surmised that Barbieri’s treatise must have already been circulating in manuscript when Baldini made his engravings in the 1470s.4 However, Barbieri’s text and Baldini’s engravings both depend directly upon manuscript de­scrip­tions of Cardinal Orsini’s paintings, which were discovered by Lothar Freund in 1936 and then published and analyzed by Maurice Hélin. Hélin showed that they fall into two distinct recensions.5 The first group centers on the Liège-­Tongerloo manuscripts (hereafter L-­T), and may be called the northern European recension. The second, or Ital­ 210

civic ritual ii ian recension, centers upon the Laurentian manuscript (hereafter M) and Barbieri’s Sibyllarum vaticina, both of which derive from some earlier, more complete de­scrip­tion of the Orsini sibyls that is now lost. The northern European and Ital­ian recensions overlap considerably, but there are im­por­ tant differences. Both are certainly based on a fuller account of the Orsini sibyls than any yet known. That such an extended account did exist appears especially from a close examination and comparison of the prophecies spoken by the sibyls in Belcari’s Annunciation play, in Baldini’s engravings, and in the two manuscript recensions, which include Barbieri’s Sibyllarum vaticina. With regard to Barbieri, he is less interested in the formae of the sibyls (sometimes omitting some of their descriptive at­trib­utes, most notably their ages) than he is in rec­ording their Latin epigrammata, or prophecies. These he usefully renders at greater length than do either the surviving manuscripts or Baldini’s engravings, and for this reason I have listed in the appendix the epigrams as rec­orded by Barbieri and those appearing in the manuscripts and the engravings. It is clear from the manuscripts, however, that Cardinal Orsini set great store in the forma picturae devised for each sibyl and that he intended the de­scrip­ tions of his paintings to serve not only as a rec­ord of the learning that informed their invention, but also as a guide for his artists. Thus, in the manuscripts the first sibyl (the Persian) is described seated on a throne, “and the subsequent ones too, diversimodo tamen, which are to be done as the painter wishes” (quod fieri debet secundum voluntatem pictoris). Indeed, 211

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture one response to the cardinal’s wish that the de­scrip­tions serve as a model for other artists is already stated in the northern European recension (L-­T), which states that, along with the epigrams of the Orsini sibyls, there are also included prophecies accompanying six statues of sibyls, now lost, in the cathedral of Cologne (rethro chorum ecclesie Coloniensis).6 For the most part, however, these must have been derived from the Roman series, since, with two exceptions (the Erythraean and Samian sibyls, for whom epigrams are additionally rec­orded deriving from St. Augustine and the pseudo-­Joachite Taurus pa­cificus oracle), only one prophecy is given for each sibyl, which in each case corresponds to its counterpart in the Ital­ ian recension. This gives rise to the speculation that the reason so many copies survive in the libraries of northern Europe may well be that Cardinal Orsini had ordered copies to be taken as gifts when he traveled as a legate for Martin V to France, Germany, Bohemia, and Hungary.7 Be that as it may, Baccio Baldini’s engravings, in instances of differences between the northern European and Ital­ian recensions, almost invariably re­flect information contained in the latter. Close scrutiny of his engravings in comparison to both recensions, however, especially with regard to the sibyls’ ac­tual prophecies, helps to reconstruct the more complete de­scrip­tion drawn upon by Baldini and, before him, the author of their vernacular octaves. That Orsini chose for the camera paramenti twelve paintings each of sibyls and prophets conforms to long-­established 212

civic ritual ii tradition that associated the pagan oracles with the Old Testament prophets. The first ten sibyls appeared in the order given in Varro’s list as transmitted by Lactantius. The first ten sibyls in Baldini’s engravings, which are numbered consecutively, are in the same order.8 In common with the Orsini series, however, Baldini listed not ten but twelve sibyls, adding Europa and Agrippa. The latter also makes an appearance in Belcari’s Annunciation play. These circumstances alone establish the de­pen­dence of both on what Salvatore Settis has rightly denominated the “new canon” created with the Orsini paintings. With this as preface, we may now turn to the forma Sibyllarum. Comparing Baldini’s engravings with the de­scrip­tions of Orsini’s paintings, we find that the forma given in the manuscripts for the Delphic sibyl (no. 3) is that of woman age twenty, who, as in Baldini’s engraving, holds a horn in her right hand. The Ital­ian recension (M) describes her simply as  in manu cornu tenens, while the northern-­European (L-­T) adds that in dextera manu tenet cornu bucinatorium aureum, which would account for the metal fittings on the sibyl’s curved horn in the engraving. She wears a silk robe (speci­fied as black in M: vestita veste nigra), which Baldini shows in the richly ornamented baldric that encloses her robe across the shoulders. The forma for the Erythraean sibyl (no. 5) is that of a woman age fifty who, as Baldini depicts her, is dressed as a nun (L-­T: habitu monialis vestitur, subalbis vestis; M: nigro velle in 213

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture capite). The manuscripts also describe her, followed by Baldini, with an unsheathed sword in her hand, and her feet placed on the star-­spangled circle of the sky. The Samian sibyl (no. 6), described only as vestito veluto rubeo in L-­T, is described in M as a woman of twenty-­four, with a naked sword lying beneath her feet and a fine veil covering her head. The same at­trib­utes appear in Baldini’s engraving. Moreover, she has a beautiful chest ( habens formosum pectus), to which she draws attention by placing her hand upon it (manum ad pectus tenens), which Baldini ingeniously, and most effectively, indicated by showing the Samian sibyl firmly clasping a large fold of her gown at the point where it descends from her throat down between her breasts. The Tiburtine sibyl (no. 10) is twenty years old. She wears the skin of a wild goat thrown around her shoulders (depingitur habens pellem caprioli siluestris ad spatulas), its head and feet knotted together above her breast (cum capite animalis sint reflexi desuper ad pectus et posteriores infixi ad corrigiam), descriptive at­trib­utes again followed faithfully by Baldini. The manuscripts describe the Hellespontine sibyl (no. 8) as fifty years old and terrible in aspect. Her head is completely bound like a Moorish woman’s (L-­T: caput habens ligatum per totum ut morista), and her throat is swathed, as Baldini depicts her, all the way down to her shoulders (M: ligato velo antiquo capite sub gula circumvolto usque ad scapulos). The Phrygian sibyl (no. 9) is unsightly and melancholic (L-­T: turpis et nigra; M: antiqua facie saturnine), and her hair is unkempt, twisted and falling down her back like a gypsy’s 214

civic ritual ii (L-­T: capillos habens tortos et expansos supra dorsum more egyptiaco). This again agrees with Baldini’s engraving, as do the facts that she points with her finger and that her arms are wantonly bare (M: nudis brachiis). Baldini’s engravings of these six sibyls all closely match the de­scrip­tions of them in the Orsini series. The others also adequately match their de­scrip­tions. The Libyan sibyl (no. 2) is described in M as twenty-­four years old, with a garland woven from leaves and flowers on her head (ornate serto viridi et florum in capite), in which respect Baldini agrees with the de­ scrip­tion. The sibyl Europa (no. 11) is described in the manuscripts as fif­teen years old and the most beautiful of all, with a glowing face. As in the engraving, she is clad in gold, has an extremely diaphanous veil tied to her head, around which her golden hair is knotted (M: velo subtilissimo capite ligata, induta veste aurata). A like correspondence obtains for the Cumaean sibyl (no. 7), whom the manuscripts describe as also dressed in gold, eigh­teen years old, her hair pulled back behind her head, carrying a tall open book in one hand and holding her left hand over her knee (M: sinistra habens super genu). Had we not taken note of these correspondences between Baldini’s sibyls and their counterparts in the Orsini cycle, the de­scrip­tions of the remaining three, the Cimmerian and Persian sibyls and the sibyl Agrippa, might have seemed too generic to be of use. However, even though it is not possible to say whether the eigh­teen-­year-­old Cimmerian sibyl wears a celestina veste in Baldini’s engraving (no. 4), her hair is let down over her shoulders (capillis per scapulas sparsis). And while we 215

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture cannot be sure that the thirty-­year-­old Persian sibyl wears an aurea veste (no. 1), she does appear cum velo albo in capite. And if we cannot say that the thirty-­year-­old sibyl Agrippa wears a rose-­colored cloak over a rosy undergarment (no. 12), she does seem matura et gravis, is certainly dressed more severely than her sisters, romano more, and does, as in Baldini’s engraving, raise her left hand and point to her epigram (M: et sinistram manum tenens ostendendo deorsum breve scriptum).

= 2.  Baldini’s Latin Epigrams for the Sibyls and Cardinal Orsini’s Epigrammata Turning now to the Latin epigrams inscribed in Baldini’s engravings and comparing them with the ones prepared for the Orsini sibyls, we find further con­fir­ma­tion of the strict relationship existing for the two sets. Baldini’s epigrams are for the most part nothing more than shortened paraphrases of the Orsini epigrammata rather than complete transcriptions of them. In his engraving of the Delphic sibyl (no. 3), for example, her prophecy of the forthcoming incorrupt virgin birth (Nascetur propheta e virgine absque humana corruptione) is simply a variant of the one ascribed to her in the Orsini series (Nascetur propheta absque matris coitu ex virgine eius), from which it obviously derives. The epigrams for ten other sibyls also paraphrase and generally, for reasons of space, shorten their Orsini models, but in ways that also make manifest their de­pen­dence on them. 216

civic ritual ii Thus, we have for the Persian sibyl (no. 1) an epigram beginning with a vision of the coming of “the Son of God astride the beast, the Lord of the Universe, the Savior of nations borne by a virgin:” Ecce filius Dei belluam equitans Dominus universi cuius gentium salutis in Virgine erit, effectively paraphrasing Orsini’s Ecce bestia conculaberis et gignetur Dominus in orbis terrarum, et gremium Virginis erit salus gentium. The Libyan sibyl’s epigram (no. 2), Ecce venientem diem et latentia aperientem tenebit gremio gentium regina, predicting the day to come when the Lord shall be held in the womb of the Queen of Nations and things hidden in darkness be filled with light, equally paraphrases the Orsini epigram, Ecce veniet dies et illuminabit Dominus condensa tenebrarum .  .  . tenebit illum in gremio virgo domina gentium. To the Cimmerian sibyl’s (no. 4) prophecy of a young girl, beautiful of face, who shall nourish a boy with heaven-­sent milk, In pueritia sua cum facie pulcherrima puerum nutriet suo lacte, id est lacte celitus misso, may be compared the words from her Orsini epigram: puella pulchra facie . . . nutrit puerum, dans ei ad comedendum vis, id est lac de coelo missum. The Samian sibyl’s prognostication of the coming of a rich man born of a pauper and adored by the beasts of the field (no. 6), Ecce veniet dives et e paupere nascetur et bellue eum adorabunt, similarly paraphrases the Orsini epigram for the same sibyl: Ecce veniet dives et nascetur de paupercula, et bestiae terrarum adora­ bunt eum. Baldini’s epigram for the Cumaean sibyl (no. 7), Iam redit et virgo redeunt saturnia regna, simply repeats the immortal Virgilian verse quoted more extensively in Cardinal Orsini’s paint217

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture ing of her, beginning two lines before, Ultima Cumaei venit iam carminis aetas, and ending four lines after, Casta fave Lucina: tuus iam regnat Apollo (Eclogues, IV, 4–10). His epigram for the Hellespontine sibyl (no. 8), referring to God looking down upon the humble from his high dwelling place and predicting a Jewish virgin soon to give birth, Ex eccelso habitaculo respexit Deus humiles et in terris novissimis diebus ex hebrea virgine nascetur, derives from Cardinal Orsini’s De excelsis coelorum habitaculo prospexit Deus humiles suos; et nascetur in diebus novissimis de virgine hebrea in cunabulis terrae. The epigram Baldini assigned the Tiburtine sibyl (no. 10), foretelling Christ’s birth in Bethlehem and its becoming known in Nazareth during the reign of the peaceful bull (Nascetur in Bettelem in Nazaret annunitabitur regnante quieto tauro) derives from Cardinal Orsini’s Nascetur Christus in Betheleem et annunciabitur in Nazareth, regente tauro pa­cifico. This prophecy is especially interesting, because it shows that the viri doctissimi responsible for devising the at­trib­utes and epigrams for the Orsini series of sibyls certainly knew the thirteenth-­century pseudo-­Joachite oracle ascribed to the Erythraean sibyl, from which Giovanni Pisano quoted for his sculpture of her on the façade of the Duomo in Siena. As we have seen, that prophecy invoked a taurus pa­ cificus in whose reign the Lamb of God would appear, and a gloss to this passage had iden­ti­fied the peaceful bull as the emperor Octavian. It was undoubtedly because of this that Orsini’s humanist scholars decided the prophecy must have been made not by the Erythraean but the Tiburtine sibyl, 218

civic ritual ii who, of course, had famously revealed the forthcoming birth of Christ to the emperor Augustus. Finally, the epigram Baldini assigns the sibyl Europa (no. 11) telling of the coming from the high hills and mountains of a man born of a virgin, who would reign in poverty and dominate in silence (Veniet colles et montes et in paupertate regnans cum silentio dominabitus [sic] et e i virginis vase exiliet), paraphrases Cardinal Orsini’s Veniet ille et transibit montes et colles . . . regnabit in paupertate et dominabitur in silentio et egredietur de utero virginis. And while at first glance the Phrygian sibyl’s Veniet desuper filius Dei et firmabitur in coelo consilium et virgo annunciabitur (no. 9: “The son of God shall come from on high and make everlasting his counsel in heaven, and he shall be announced to a Virgin”) looks different from her Orsini epigram, Flagellabit Dominus potentes terrae, et Olympo excelso veniet, et firmabit consilium in coelo, et annunciabitur virgo in vallis desertorum (“The Lord shall scourge the powerful of the earth, and shall come from lofty Olympus and make everlasting his counsel in heaven, and shall be announced to a Virgin in the desert valleys”), closer examination shows it to be really a paraphrase, omitting the initial and concluding phrases. Similarly, although the sibyl Agrippa’s Hoc verbum invisibile tangiet permittet et tanquam radices germinabit (no. 12) seems to differ from her Orsini epigram, which begins Invisibile verbum palpabitur et germinabit ut radix, again it only paraphrases her prophecy of the invisible Word made flesh. Eleven of Baldini’s epigrams can accordingly be seen to 219

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture derive directly from the Orsini epigrammata. The single exception is the one he assigns to the Erythraean sibyl (no. 5). Not only does it not predict the Incarnation of Christ, but also, alone among all the epigrams for the twelve sibyls represented, it repeats an oracle of the Resurrection transmitted by both Lactantius and Augustine, Morte morietur tribus diebus  somno suscepto. Moreover, the northern European (L-­T) and Ital­ian (M) recensions of the de­scrip­tions of the Orsini sibyls both rec­ord epigrams different from this and from each other. To the prob­lem of the Erythraean sibyl we shall return.

= 3.  The Vernacular Octaves for the Sibyls and Cardinal Orsini’s Epigrammata: Part I We must now turn to the crucial intermediary between the de­scrip­tion of Cardinal Orsini’s paintings of the sibyls and Baccio Baldini’s engravings, and that is of course the author of the vernacular sibylline octaves. As we have seen, Baldini’s set of twelve sibyls was conceived as part of a suite of thirty­six engravings, which would include twenty-­four prophets. Of these thirty-­six octaves, twenty-­three repeat speeches recited by the prophets and sibyls in the sacra rappresentazione of the Annunciation at­trib­uted to Feo Belcari when it was first published in 1495, which was then given its definitive modern edition by Alessandro D’Ancona in 1872. And this, in turn, raises the quaestio vexata of the transmission of Belcari’s text. 220

civic ritual ii We know only two Annunciation plays from Quattrocento manuscripts and printed sources, and both are at­trib­ uted to Feo Belcari. They differ sig­nifi­cantly, but they also notably agree in many of the octaves assigned to the prophets and sibyls. Of the latter, there are nine named in one play and eight in the other. The most well known text of the Annunciation play, the version published by D’Ancona and often anthologized (I have followed Luigi Banfi’s edition and will hence hereafter refer to it as A-­B) has been characterized by Nerida Newbigin as “execrable.”9 She has stricken it from the canon of Belcari’s works and produced a new edition of the second play (hereafter N) that she considers to be the “authentic” version of Belcari’s rappresentazione of the Annunciation.10 Although the concept of authenticity is especially slippery when applied to texts of sacre rappresentazioni, which could be altered from performance to performance according to the wishes of the festaiuoli responsible for staging a play in any given year, it is certainly true that very serious textual prob­lems exist in A-­B. An especially notorious anomaly is the interpolation of three “fictitious” sibyls—Sofonia, Michea, and Osea—that correspond, of course, to the prophets Zephaniah (Sophonias), Micah, and Hosea. Moreover, A-­B, as Newbigin rightly observed, is scarcely a play at all. Most of the text is given over to a seemingly interminable recitation of octaves uttered by twenty-­one prophets and nine sibyls. The performance then ends abruptly with single octaves spoken by the Virgin and God the Father, a lauda sung by a choir of angels, a speech by Gabriel, and the recitation in 221

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Latin of a biblical text narrating the Annunciation. By contrast, in N the number of octaves spoken by the prophets and sibyls is greatly reduced. Only three prophets appear, followed by eight sibyls. What is more, the eight sibyls are assigned only five stanzas between them. Just two of the sibyls, Agrippa and the Libyan sibyl, recite an entire octave. The remaining three are each divided between two sibyls, one of whom speaks the opening sestet, and the second the concluding couplet. The sibyls’ prophecies are followed by a true rappresentazione developed around a dispute between the virtues (Mercy and Peace, opposed by Truth and Justice) over whether, after five thousand years, the sin of Adam should be forgiven. Nevertheless, A-­B undoubtedly rec­ords an ac­tual performance predating its publication in 1495 (in which it is at­trib­ uted to Belcari), even though the festaiuoli on that occasion had been, as we shall see, extremely free, indeed careless, in adapting the verses for the prophets and sibyls. Moreover, it is undoubtedly this play to which Vincenzo Borghini refers in a letter to Cosimo I in 1565–66, discussing plans for the festivities celebrating the marriage of Cosimo’s son Francesco. Borghini writes of reviving for the occasion the festa of San Felice in Piazza, that is, the rappresentazione of the Annunciation, and goes on to suggest that it might be adapted to more sophisticated modern tastes by modifying the lengthy pro­ ces­sion of the prophets and sibyls, “which used to exhaust the spectators, took a great deal of grace away from the beauty of the rest, and could perhaps be altered in some way 222

civic ritual ii so as to improve and ennoble it with a few new inventions” (“quei Profeti e Sibille che solevano straccare molto gli spectatori et toglievon gran gratia alla bellezza del resto, che forse potrebbono moderare in qualche cosa, et migliorare et rigentilirle con qualche inventione”).11 Newbigin’s reservations about the shortcomings of A-­B (which had indeed also been expressed by D’Ancona) follow upon the same ob­jec­tion, and it is certainly true that N, in which the speeches of the prophets and sibyls are greatly reduced while the rappresentazione of the dispute among the virtues is given extended treatment, has much greater dramatic and artistic interest. Nevertheless, her outright rejection of it as “inauthentic” is perhaps hasty in light of the fact that the verses spoken by the prophets and sibyls might also be considered separately and understood as deriving from an in­de­pen­dently written vernacular Ordo Prophetarum that could either be performed as such, more or less in the traditional way, or excerpted for use as the prologue to some new rappresentazione. In fact, as we shall see, someone did write a separate sequence of octaves for a complete set of twelve sibyls on the basis of the Latin epigrams composed for Cardinal Orsini’s paintings, a manuscript copy of which he certainly had before him as he worked. The octaves of the sibyls have been assumed to be by Belcari since certain of them were later incorporated into the two Annunciation plays at­trib­uted to him (both in the “authentic” and “execrable” versions), which include the earliest known rec­ord of the prophecies of selected sibyls from Cardinal Orsini’s new 223

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture canon in Florentine poetry, spectacle, or art. Who the author of these octaves might be—whether Feo Belcari, Piero di Mariano Muzi, or even Matteo Palmieri as one of the festaiuoli in 1454—still awaits further research. Although Belcari is an obvious candidate, Newbigin rightly points out that no sibylline octaves are included in the list of his works compiled by his son while he was still alive. However, it is quite likely that these octaves were written as part of a representation of the Annunciation on the traditional model (and hence listed as an Annunciation, not as a separate Ordo Prophetarum by Belcari’s son), according to which a lengthy calling forth of the prophets was concluded by the Angelic Salutation and a brief acknowledgment by the Virgin. Such were the spectacles seen by the Russian ­bishop Abraham of Suzdal in 1439 and Agostino di Portico between 1451 and 1453, the latter of whom describes “David propheta a cavallo con molti propheti” followed by the angel kneeling before the Virgin “e disse [nota bene, in Latin] ‘Ave Maria’ e tutto come seguita il Vangelio; e la donna rispondeva e faceva tutti que’ gesti ‘et quomodo fiet etc.”12 Be that as it may, in 1454 our author’s immediate task was to make paraphrastic verse translations of all twelve sibylline epigrams. A second set of twenty-­four octaves, based in the Old Testament, was prepared for the prophets. The resulting thirty-­six stanzas for the prophets and sibyls comprised a complete vernacular Ordo Prophetarum conceived as a preface to a brief representation of the Annunciation, much as we find it in A-­B. As Newbigin wisely observes, “The texts of [the early represen224

civic ritual ii tations] are fluid, rough drafts which ev­ery festaiuolo could introduce mod­i­fi­ca­tions adapted to the actors or the po­lit­i­cal moment, as one intuits from the diversity of the redactions found in the plays of the Annunciation, the Giudizio, and the San Giovanni nel deserto.”13 No surviving rappresentazione includes verses for all twelve sibyls and all twenty-­four prophets, but they do incorporate more or less lengthy excerpts from the master list of octaves that had been created beforehand. It therefore follows that both series of octaves had been composed in­de­pen­dently, preceding the writing of those plays that excerpt prophecies taken from them. My purpose now is to reconstruct as many as possible of the full series of thirty-­six stanzas that had originally been compiled as master lists to be drawn upon by the authors of the sacre rappresentazioni and the festaiuoli staging them in any particular year. Newbigin has herself written most acutely about the hybrid structure of the early sacre rappresentazioni, and especially to the point is yet a third play. This is the earlier mentioned rappresentazione della Purificazione, enacted ev­ery February 2 by the Purication Company of San Marco. The earliest documentation of a Purification play in Florence strongly suggests a performance of it in 1450, making it one of the very earliest true rappresentazioni.14 It was written by Belcari’s early collaborator, Piero di Mariano Muzi, whom we have already encountered as the custodian of the Purification Company when it par­tic­i­pated in the celebration of the Feast of San Giovanni four years later, in 1454. Like A-­B, Piero di Mari­ ano’s rappresentazione is introduced by an extremely long Ordo 225

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Prophetarum, including verses in ottava rima for three sibyls and no fewer than twenty Old Testament prophets. The former are the Phrygian and Libyan sibyls, and Cardinal Orsini’s sibyl Agrippa. The three sibylline octaves are, as we shall see, for all intents and purposes identical to the verses composed for these same three sibyls as transmitted by the two Annunciation plays, A-­B and N. The same is true, with exceptions duly to be noted below, of the twenty octaves recited by the prophets. Newbigin has explained the appearance of identical octaves for the particular sibyls and prophets included in each of the three plays by suggesting that Piero di Mariano perhaps wrote the verses spoken by the prophets, and Belcari those for the sibyls (an argument she now repudiates). Since the very earliest manuscript of the Purification play does not include the sibyls, she has concluded that their octaves were added shortly thereafter and were lifted from N, the “authentic” version of Belcari’s Annunciation play. She suggests further that the speeches of the prophets in the “execrable” A-­B were in turn taken from Muzi’s Purification play.15 The solution is ingenious, but, to repeat, my contention is that all the verses were first composed in­de­pen­dently as a vernacular Ordo Prophetarum of full octaves for at least twenty­four Old Testament prophets supplemented by additional stanzas for the twelve sibyls as originally devised by Cardinal Orsini’s humanist scholars to augment the traditional lone fig­ure of the Erythraean sibyl reciting the Iudicii signum. The entire sequence of thirty-­six octaves could conceivably be 226

civic ritual ii performed as a complete Ordo Prophetarum concluding with a tableau of the Nativity or Annunciation accompanied by a Latin recitation of the relevant biblical text (as is very nearly the case in A-­B); or again, as in the instances of N and, to a much lesser degree, the Purification play, it might be excerpted for use as the prologue to one of the new rappresentazioni. Belcari may have composed the sibylline octaves. He possibly also wrote the prophets’ stanzas, or many of them, though it is impossible to be certain in light of the manuscript attributions of the Purification play to Muzi and the two Annunciation plays to Belcari. Indeed, it is entirely plausible that both these old friends and collaborators con­trib­ uted verses, which, in any case, were certainly written earlier than the plays themselves. We shall begin with the prophecies of the sibyls. To establish which of the verses is original and which is to be reliably assigned to one sibyl or another, our point of departure will be to examine the octaves spoken by those sibyls that take part in the plays we have noticed so far, namely, the two versions of the Annunciation play and the Purification play. Because the stanzas spoken by the sibyls in these plays are, as we shall see, in each case paraphrastic translations of the Latin epigrams devised for the same sibyls as earlier painted for Cardinal Orsini, comparison of these verses to the Orsini epigrams is indispensable to demonstrating that the octaves transmitted by these three sacre rappresentazioni derive from a prior master list of verses for all twelve sibyls that had been 227

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture in­de­pen­dently prepared. When the sibylline stanzas included in the plays have been exhausted, we shall continue by examining those octaves uniquely transmitted by Baldini’s engravings, but not included in the plays. Comparison of their content to that of the Orsini epigrams will further make possible the reconstruction of all twelve sibylline octaves. As Newbigin observed of the Purification play, it gives “splendid testimony to the hybrid origins of the Florentine rappresentazioni.”16 On the one hand, Piero di Mariano’s narrative derives from the eleventh chapter of the thirteenth-­ century Meditationes vitae Christi by Pseudo-­Bonaventura (himself heavily de­pen­dent on St. Bernard), which Mâle long ago showed was a primary source of inspiration for the early sacre rappresentazioni as well as for paintings of sacred narratives. And, on the other hand, the pro­ces­sion of twenty prophets and three sibyls introducing the rappresentazione of the Purification is a traditional Ordo Prophetarum, a continuation of the old liturgical spectacle that, as we have seen, had gradually evolved during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries from out of the reading of Pseudo-­Augustine’s Contra Judaeos.17 The same hybrid structure also characterizes Belcari’s “authentic” Annunciation play (N). It too begins with an Ordo Prophetarum, in this case shortened to eight prophets and sibyls, succeeded by a rappresentazione of the dispute of the virtues that is also taken from and in part virtually translates, the first two chapters of Pseudo-­Bonaventura’s Meditationes.18 The hybrid structure of both plays and the fact that virtually 228

civic ritual ii identical prophetic octaves appear in the Annunciation play to which Newbigin objects (A-­B) suggest that the verse of the Ordo Prophetarum had already been composed in­de­pen­ dently of the three plays they introduce. This was excerpted for the introductory sections of both the “authentic” N and the earlier Purification play. It follows that A-­B, deriving from a late fif­teenth-­century text that at­trib­utes it to Belcari, must preserve, in however corrupt and dramatically unsatisfactory a form, thirty of the octaves earlier composed for that Ordo Prophetarum. So far as the sibyls are concerned, the fact that the octaves composed with their prophecies paraphrase, and often virtually translate, the epigrams invented for the twelve sibyls painted for Cardinal Orsini helps establish the hypothesis that they were written separately before being excerpted for the rappresentazioni of the Annunciation and the Purification. We shall therefore begin by examining the sibylline octaves spe­cifi­cally transmitted by these plays, comparing them to each other and to the Orsini epigrammata. When the three “fictitious” sibyls in A-­B are removed from consideration, six sibylline octaves remain. Five essentially duplicate the five octaves for the sibyls in N, though there are inconsistencies between the two texts in attributing a particular stanza to one sibyl or another. Cardinal Orsini’s new sibyl Agrippa (no. 12) is the first to speak in N. She begins her prophecy with the words, “Sarà palpato lo invisibil Verbo, / e poi germinerà come radice,” the first lines of an 229

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture octave also rec­orded in A-­B, but instead ascribed to the Tiburtine sibyl. However, the verse translates the epigram, Invisibile Verbum palpabitur et germinabitur ut radix, that accompanied the sibyl Agrippa in the Orsini series. We can thus be certain that Belcari’s octave, even though accurately transmitted by both versions, is nevertheless erroneously assigned to the Tiburtine sibyl in A-­B. Further con­fir­ma­tion is provided by the Purification play, in which the same stanza is correctly given to the sibyl Agrippa. Her octave reads: 12. SIBILLA AGRIPPA Sarà palpato lo invisibil Verbo, e poi germinerà come radice: secco sarà sì come il foglio acerbo e non apparirà bello e felice: grembo materno ne farà riserbo, di poi piangerà Dio come infelice, e nascerà di madre come Dio, poi tra gli altri userà come uom rio.

The Libyan sibyl (no. 2) follows Agrippa in N. Her octave, beginning, “Ecco che presto ne verrà quel die / che lu­ cerà le tenebre serrate,” translates the Libyan sibyl’s epigram in the Orsini series, Ecce veniet dies et illuminabit condensa tenebrarum. We can thus be certain that the attribution of the same octave to the Samian sibyl in A-­B is again mistaken. Moreover, the same stanza is correctly ascribed to the Libyan sibyl in the Purification play: 230

civic ritual ii 2. SIBILLA LIBICA Ecco che presto ne verrà quel die che lucerà le tenebre serrate, e scioglieransi nodi e profezie della gran sinagoga, e rilasciate saran le labbra delle gente pie: vedrassi il Re de’ viventi, e palpate saran sue membra in grembo a Vergin vera, e ’l ventre suo fia di tutti stadera.

Because these two octaves are identically transcribed and correctly assigned to their speakers in both N and the Purification play, we may conclude that the sibylline verses in both depend more directly than those of A-­B on some anterior paraphrastic translations of the Orsini epigrams. Although the same octaves are transmitted by A-­B, both are ascribed to the wrong speaker and hence must derive from an intermediary source, no doubt a hastily adapted earlier version of the Ordo excerpted for the prologue to the rappresentazione of the Annunciation, into which such confusions had already been introduced. This inference is con­firmed by the remaining three sibylline octaves in N, which have themselves, however, been lightly but sig­nifi­cantly altered. While Agrippa and the Libyan sibyl speak the whole of their octaves, which in both instances are accurately rec­orded and at­trib­uted, the remaining three octaves are each divided between two sibyls, the initial sestet being pronounced by one sibyl and the concluding 231

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture couplet recited by another. Accordingly, the Phyrgian sibyl is the next to speak in N, but she utters only the first six lines of her prophecy. The octave is completed by a couplet at­trib­ uted to the Samian sibyl, and the full stanza, as edited by Newbigin, reads thus. SIBILLA FRIGIA: Batterà Dio i potenti di terra. Di sommo ciel verrà l’Eccelso a noi, e fermerà il concilio senza guerra. La Vergin fia annunzïata poi. Nelle deserte valli si disserra: quest ‘è quell ch’io ne dico a tutti voi. SIBILLA SAMIA Di poverella il ricco essendo nato, dalle bestie di terra fia adorato.

The initial sestet, beginning, “Batterà Dio i potenti di terra. / ​ Di sommo ciel verrà l’eccelso a noi,” accurately paraphrases the epigram devised for Cardinal Orsini’s Phrygian sibyl, Flagellabit Dominus potentes terrae et Olympo excelso veniet (no. 9). At the same time the concluding couplet given the Samian sibyl, “Di poverella il ricco essendo nato, / dalle bestie di terra fia adorato,” closely paraphrases the epigram that accompanied the Samian sibyl in the Orsini cycle: Ecce veniet dives et nascetur de paupercula et bestie terrarum adorabunt eum (no. 6). In other words, the couplet is an interpolation from another octave, one Belcari ac­tually did write for the Samian sibyl, substituting for the couplet with which he had in fact 232

civic ritual ii completed the Phrygian sibyl’s octave. Since none of the plays rec­ords a complete octave for the Samian sibyl, this circumstance alone establishes beyond doubt that Belcari had composed verses for all twelve sibyls, ba­sing each octave on one of Cardinal Orsini’s twelve Latin epigrammata. The survival of the couplet also establishes that the festaiuoli who had originally been responsible for producing the Annunciation play rec­orded in N had to hand a master list of all twelve sibylline stanzas, which they skillfully (and very accurately) adapted for the single octaves shared by two sibyls. It lends support, in other words, to the hypothesis that these octaves were written as an in­de­pen­dent set composed in­de­pen­dently of the invention for any particular sacra rappresentazione. The reason for combining the prophecies of the Phrygian and Samian sibyls within a single octave in N undoubtedly was that the festaiuoli, staging the play in some given year, wished to maintain an impressive number of sibyls for theatrical effect but, at the same time, wanted to abbreviate their individual prophecies in the interests of increasing the time available for the sacred drama itself. The hybrid octave thus fashioned for this version ended up in genuinely corrupt form in A-­B, in which the whole of the octave is doubly misassigned, being given in its entirety to the Cumaean sibyl. This means that the full octave rec­orded in A-­B postdates the hybrid one in N, from which it directly derives and is a corruption. It further means that the concluding couplet of the Phrygian sibyl’s speech in the Purification play (which depends, as we have seen, more directly on 233

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Belcari’s original verses than do the stanzas in A-­B), which transmits the whole of the Phrygian sibyl’s octave without the interpolation of the Samian sibyl’s couplet, preserves the  correct reading of the last two lines of her octave: “Però divoto intenda ciascheduno, / umile e puro e di colpe digiuno” (no. 9). The Phrygian sibyl’s octave accordingly originally read as follows: 9. SIBILLA FRIGIA Batterà Dio i potenti di terra, dal sommo ciel verrà lo eccelso a noi, e fermerà il concilio senza guerra: la Vergin fia annunzïata poi: nelle deserte valli si disserra: questo è quell ch’io ne dico a tutti voi: però divoto intenda ciascheduno, umile e puro e di colpe digiuno.

Unfortunately, these three stanzas complete the number of sibylline utterances included in the Purification play. It is clear that the octaves preserved in this play and in N (including both sestets and couplets, all of which are transcribed correctly and correctly assigned to the appropriate sibyl) are more reliable than the octaves transmitted by A-­B. These latter, as we shall also see, do for the most part accurately reproduce Belcari’s verses but consistently confuse their proper speakers, assigning each to the wrong sibyl. They also combine sestets composed for one sibyl with couplets written for another, the result being that the full octaves rec­orded by A-­B 234

civic ritual ii are transmitted in corrupt form. From here on, however, we no ­longer have the Purification play as a tertium comparationis for evaluating the transmission of Belcari’s sibylline verses. The Erythraean sibyl (no. 5) is the fourth to prophesy in N, uttering the first six lines of an octave completed by a couplet at­trib­uted to the Delphic sibyl (no. 3). The sestet, beginning “Risguardoe Dio dello eccelso abitacolo / gli umili suoi,” accurately translates the epigram at­trib­uted to the Erythraean sibyl in the northern European recension (L-­T) of the de­scrip­tion of the Orsini series, De excelsis coelorum habitaculo prospexit Deus humiles suos, and therefore is certainly accurate. But here an additional prob­lem arises. In the Ital­ian recension (M), which includes Barbieri’s Sibyllarum vaticina, the epigram is ascribed to the Hellespontine sibyl (no. 8). To this anomaly we shall return. The couplet concluding the octave, however, “Nascer debbe il profeta senza coito / di madre; d’una Vergine è il suo introito,” is spoken by the Delphic sibyl, and it perfectly translates the epigram composed for Cardinal Orsini’s Delphic sibyl, Nascetur propheta absque matris coitu ex virgine eius (no. 3). Without doubt this is the concluding couplet of the octave ac­tually written for the Delphic sibyl. As had also occurred in the Phrygian sibyl’s octave, in which we saw a genuine sestet from her prophecy completed by an equally genuine couplet taken from the Samian sibyl’s stanza, the interpolation is again preserved as a corruption in A-­B, which assigns the entire octave to the Erythraean sibyl. In the absence of a comparison from the Purification play, it would seem possible only to give the ini235

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture tial sestet of the speech, save for the fact that Baccio Baldini’s engraving of the Erythraean sibyl not only transmits the sestet accurately but also rec­ords a different couplet, which undoubtedly preserves the original verse (no. 5). The octave reads: 5. SIBILLA ERITREA Risguardöe Iddio dell’ eccelso abitacolo gli umili suoi, e nascerà ne’ giorni ultimi, dico, con questo miracolo d’una Vergine ebrea, con tutti adorni costumi, il suo figliuol: senz’ altro ostacolo nelle terrene culle si soggiorni; nascerà gran’ profeta, alto e accorto, di Vergin madre, et questo el vero scorto.19

The five sibylline octaves rec­orded in N conclude with a sestet spoken by the Persian sibyl followed by a sestet ascribed to the Hellespontine sibyl. The couplet, which begins “Ecco la bestia sarà conculcata, / e fia concetto il gran Signor giocondo. / il grembo della Vergine beata / salute fia delle gente del mondo,” accurately renders the epigram devised for the Orsini painting of the Persian sibyl: Ecce bestia conculaberis et gignetur Dominus in orbe terrarum, et gremium virginis salus gentium (no. 1). The concluding couplet, however, “Vaticinare una parola basta; / Cristo Gesù nascerà della casta,” is for the third time an interpolation, translating the Hellespontine sibyl’s Orsini epigram, Ihesus Christios nascetur de casta (no. 8). 236

civic ritual ii Once again, A-­B preserves the interpolation as a corruption, attributing not just the sestet but also the entire octave to the Persian sibyl. Baldini’s engraving of the Persian sibyl repeats the corruption. In the absence of a comparison from the Purification play, we would seem to be at checkmate in attempting to restore the final couplet of the Persian sibyl’s prophecy were it not for the fact that A-­B transmits a sixth and final sibylline ­octave for which there is no parallel in N. A-­B at­trib­utes the entire stanza to the Hellespontine sibyl, and it reads as follows: El magno Dio con la Potenza pia per fiato manderà suo figluol santo, qual fia Gesù, e lui concetto fia per salute del mondo tutto quanto. Costui ogni potenzia avrà in balìa, e pover nascerà e senz’ amanto, e mostrerà in quell tempo segni assai: simil la terra il ciel non ebbe mai.

As we shall momentarily see, this octave, like those for the other sibyls in A-­B, is assigned to the wrong speaker. Moreover, it again appears to be a corrupt hybrid, combining a  sestet that was certainly composed for the Samian sibyl (no. 6) with a couplet that appropriately concludes the octave for the Persian sibyl. The point of departure for the Persian sibyl’s vision is clearly the Apocalypse of St. John, in which is 237

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture described the prodigious heavenly signs attending the coming of a Virgin great with child, and the trampling of the beast underfoot (“la bestia conculcata”). The couplet concluding the octave just quoted thus fittingly completes the Persian sibyl’s prophecy, which accordingly reads: 1. SIBILLA PERSICA Ecco per cui la bestia conculcata sarà, e fia concetto el Sir giocondo: il grembo della Vergine beata salute fia della gente del mondo: saranno i piedi suoi, di questa nata, fortezza da sostenere ogni pondo. E mostrerà in quell tempo segni assai: simil la terra e ’l ciel non ebbe mai.

We have seen that five of the six ac­tual sibylline stanzas preserved in A-­B (discarding the three “fictitious” sibyls) essentially duplicate the five octaves divided between the eight sibyls who take part in the “authentic” Annunciation play, N. However, in three instances the octaves are given to the wrong sibyl in A-­B, whereas N makes no such errors in attribution, not even when completing sestets spoken by one sibyl with couplets uttered by another. This we have been able to verify by comparison of the verses with their sources in the Orsini epigrams. Moreover, A-­B clearly descends from N, since several of its octaves preserve as corruptions the interpolations that had been made when dividing a complete stanza between two sibyls. An octave at­trib­uted to the Hellespontine, pre238

civic ritual ii served only in A-­B, finds no parallel in N, but it too can be shown to be the result of combining separate prophecies. Neither the sestet nor the couplet can be jus­ti­fied by the Orsini epigram for the Hellespontine sibyl (no. 8), and the stanza thus appears to be another instance of two genuine sibylline octaves that have been divided and misassigned. If we turn to the opening sestet of the octave mistakenly at­trib­ uted to the Hellespontine sibyl in A-­B, we find that its reference in the fifth and sixth verses to a child of great authority who is born so poor as to have no mantle to cover him (“costui ogni potenza avrà in balia, / e povera nascerà e senz’ amanto”) may be explained by the epigram for the Samian sibyl, Ecce veniet dives et nascetur de paupercula et bestiae terrarum adorabunt eum (no. 6). Moreover, if we substitute for the couplet given to the Hellespontine sibyl in A-­B, which we have just given to the Persian sibyl (“e mostrerà in quell tempo segni assai”) the verses we have already seen were correctly assigned to the Samian sibyl in N (“di poverella il ricco essendo nato, / dalle bestie di terra fia adorato”), the octave gains greatly in force and logic. The emended stanza would thus be attributable to the Samian sibyl, and accordingly read: 6. SIBILLA SAMIA El magno Dio con la Potenza pia per fiato manderà suo figlio santo, qual fie Gesù, e lui concetto fia per salute del mondo tutto quanto. Costui ogni potenze avrà in balìa, 239

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture e pover nascerà e senz’ amanto, di poverella il ricco essendo nato, dale bestie di terra fia adorato.

Our discussion thus far has been suf­fi­cient to demonstrate that the author of the sibylline octaves was working directly from a transcription of the epigrammata for Cardinal Orsini’s full set of twelve sibyls. The Orsini epigrams have, moreover, been an indispensable guide to verifying which of Belcari’s octaves was intended for each sibyl. Although up to this point we have attempted to reconstruct only six octaves, our discussion of them and their con­stit­u­ent sestets and couplets has also been suf­fi­cient to demonstrate that they were written as paraphrastic verse translations in ottava rima of all twelve epigrams. The twelve stanzas were in­de­pen­dently composed as a supplement to the twenty-­four octaves for the Old Testament prophets and were not yet conceived as forming the prologue to some new rappresentazione. They were instead written as an Ordo Prophetarum in vernacular verse, augmented, on the model of the Orsini paintings, by the addition of eleven sibyls as accompaniments to the Erythraean sibyl, who, on the authority of Pseudo-­Augustine, had traditionally appeared alone as the last in the pro­ces­sion of the prophets. Though his Ordo could itself be performed as an extended liturgical spectacle, in accordance with centuries-­old usage, with a large number of prophets and sibyls taking part (as happened in both the A-­B Annunciation play and the Purification play), it could also be shortened and more effectively 240

civic ritual ii adapted to the relatively sophisticated forms of the new sacre rappresentazioni (as happened with Belcari’s Annunciation play N). The thirty-­six octaves composed for the sibyls and prophets constituted a set of vernacular exempla that might be excerpted ad libitum for the speeches of selected prophets and sibyls as the need arose, whether for Belcari’s own play with the dispute of the virtues, for an alternative version of it, or for some other play altogether. The very confusion in the attribution of octaves to the sibyl for whom they were intended existing between the two versions of the Annunciation play is indeed an indication that a preexisting series of octaves, originally composed as paraphrases of the Orsini epigrams, was selected from and adapted, often hastily, by the festaiuoli from one performance to another, with the tangled results we have here seen beginning to unravel.

4.  A Digression on the Prophets Just as the evidence thus far adduced suggests that someone, perhaps as early as 1454, composed an exemplary series of vernacular octaves paraphrasing all twelve of the Latin epigrams devised for the Orsini sibyls, so too does it indicate that Baccio Baldini’s engravings of the twelve sibyls are an exemplary series, one incorporating not only the epigrammata but also the formae originally invented for the cardinal’s paintings of the sibyls. Cardinal Orsini’s twelve sibyls had been accompanied by paintings of twelve prophets, and Baldini’s engravings of the twenty-­four prophets are also part of a 241

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture larger interrelated series, one that exactly doubles the number of prophets accompanying the Orsini sibyls. On the basis of the many vernacular octaves Baldini appended to his engravings that duplicate the stanzas uttered by the twenty-­one prophets who take part in the Ancona-­Banfi (A-­B) edition of Belcari’s Annunciation play, the handful of three who par­tic­ i­pate in the Newbigin version (N), and the nineteen who appear in Muzi’s Purification play, we may reasonably suppose that, like the octaves for the sibyls, there also existed an exemplary list of octaves for all twenty-­four of the Old Testament prophets that had likewise been written in­de­pen­ dently of any particular sacra rappresentazione, from which the festaiuoli might make selections and adaptations as the need arose when staging the plays. Taken together, the twenty-­four Jewish prophets and twelve pagan sibyls, as well as such New Testament witnesses to Christ’s Incarnation as Anna, Simeon, and John the Baptist (for whom octaves were also written), constitute a complete vernacular Ordo Prophetarum. The long tradition of the Ordo Prophetarum began, as we have seen, some time in the twelfth century with the reading of several chapters from the Pseudo-­Augustine’s Contra Judaeos in the Christmas Matins. Its development has been traced in exemplary manner by Maurice Sepin and Karl Young, who have shown how, with the passage of time, the number of prophets was gradually increased from the thirteen mentioned by Pseudo-­Augustine to include many others, culminating in the twenty-­eight, including all the major and minor prophets from the Vulgate, who took part in a 242

civic ritual ii spectacle performed in the fourteenth century in the cathedral of Rouen. Originally, a priest from the pulpit read the text of Pseudo-­Augustine, but with the passage of time the words of the prophets were recited in responses by the members of the minor clergy, deacons and subdeacons, and proto­theatrical elements were introduced. An especially amusing example is the introduction of the episode of Balaam, included as a prophet in a thirteenth-­century Ordo Prophetarum staged in the cathedral of Laon, in which Balaam, confronted by an angel with a sword, tries in vain to spur the ass he is riding. He swears at the obstinate bestia, reproaching it for malingering, to which the ass (in fact a puer hidden sub asina) responds that he fears the angel in his path. It is also sig­nifi­ cant, as Young points out, that the Laon play is the first in which ac­tual impersonation of the prophets, described in the manuscripts as wearing a species of costume adapted from the vestments of the lesser clergy, can be shown to have taken place. This is unmistakably clear from indications given in the manuscripts of the appearances of the prophets, which provide spec­i­fic­ a­tions directly anticipating the parallel prescriptions for the costumes later devised for the Orsini sibyls and described as part of their formae. Thus, to give but two examples, in the Laon play, Moses is described cum dalmatica, barbatus, tabulas legis ferens, and David regio habitu. The pro­ces­ sion concluded in the traditional way with the reciting of the Iudicii signum by the Erythraean sibyl in veste feminea, decapillata, edera coronata, insanienti simillima.”20 In the Rouen play, the 243

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture number of Prophets was increased to its fullest extent, and their formae are also described. Jeremiah, for example, was sacerdotali habitu ornatus et barbatus tenens rotulum, and Moses tenens tabulas legis apertas, indutus alba et cappa, et cornuta facie, barbatus, tenens virgam in manu. Again, the Erythraean sibyl, coronata et muliebri habitu ornata, concluded the performance with the recitation of the Iudicii signum.21 The preponderance of liturgical dress indicated in the manuscripts—dalmatics, stoles, albs, and the like—undoubtedly derives from the fact that the members of the minor clergy originally played the parts of the prophets, a point stressed by Young, and, more recently, by Maurice McNamee in his study of the iconographic function of liturgical vestments worn by angels and other sacred fig­ures in Netherlandish art.22 Of special interest, however, is the indication given in the manuscripts of at­trib­utes (or formae) for the prophets: Jeremiah’s beard and scroll, for example; Daniel as a youth holding an awn of wheat; the horned Moses with the tablets of the Law. McNamee has observed that Ital­ian artists were less inclined than their Netherlandish counterparts to costume holy fig­ures in liturgical dress, and this is certainly true of the prophets depicted in Baldini’s engravings. Even so, the earliest known de­scrip­tion of a spectacle of the Annunciation in Florence, staged at least a de­cade before Belcari wrote his Annunciation play, does take notice of the adaptation of liturgical vestments into costumes. It was written by a Russian, Abraham, ­bishop of Suzdal, who was in Florence to attend the Ecumenical Council in 1439. Bishop Abraham de244

civic ritual ii scribes a God the Father, crowned and wearing mag­nifi­cent robes, holding the Gospels, and gathered round him a multitude of little boys dressed as angels in white robes. An exceptionally beautiful boy, also crowned and dressed in sumptuous maiden’s clothes, impersonated the Virgin. Sharing the platform were four men in costume with long beards and the hair of their heads flowing down around their arms. Their heads were adorned with little garlands, and small golden haloes were fitted to each of their heads. The cloaks gathered round their shoulders were not elegantly made nor handsomely designed, but were rather like undershirts, white and flowing, and tied at the waist. Each of them wore on his right shoulder a small red deacon’s stole, not for ornament. The composition of their clothes was quite in the likeness of Prophets. . . . Each held in his hands a different text, that is, the ancient prophecies of Christ’s descent from Heaven and his Incarnation.23

Baldini’s engraving of Moses does depict the prophet wearing a cope fastened with a morse, but at the same time his costume, in common with those worn by his companions, manifests the same hybrid invention also observable in the sibyls, mixing together the familiar with the exotic. Although fanciful, it clearly re­flects costumes that Baldini and the people of Florence had seen firsthand in performances of the sacre rappresentazioni. Thus, among the expenditures made in preparation for the performance of the Purification play in 1450, we find that there are listed outlays of money for costumes, including colored taffeta tunics, ornate headpieces for 245

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Simeon and three other performers, and a Jonah’s whale made of papier-­mâché decorated with gold stars.24 Baldini’s depiction of Jonah shows him wearing a form of Turkish headpiece and holding just such an elaborately fashioned fish as his at­trib­ute. Moses also displays his familiar at­trib­utes, rays of light shining from his head (not, in this case, horns), and the tables of the law. In like manner, David and Isaiah wear fanciful hats and display a psaltery and a saw, respectively, and Noah, costumed with a fanciful conical hat, carries a model of the ark. Although the Purification play includes octaves for only three sibyls, all accurately transcribed and at­trib­uted, its value is greatly enhanced by the fact that it additionally rec­ords octaves for twenty prophets. These may be compared to the twenty-­four octaves appended to Baldini’s engravings of the prophets, as well as to the twenty-­one stanzas recited by Prophets in A-­B—in fact twenty-­four stanzas if we include among them the three stanzas misat­trib­uted to the “fictitious” sibyls Sofronia, Michea, and Osea, who are of course prophets. By contrast, N rec­ords speeches for only three prophets: David, Daniel, and Isaiah. Although there are some variations between our four sources in matching octaves to prophets, which is entirely to be expected, we also encounter fewer confusions than we do in the instance of the sibyls. Since the sibyls are our principal concern, I will only summarize my find­ings regarding the prophets’ octaves without entering into a detailed analysis of each stanza. Comparison of the prophets’ octaves as preserved in Bal246

civic ritual ii dini’s engravings, in A-­B, and the Purification play produces the following results, most of which are additionally verifiable by comparing them with their biblical sources. All three texts rec­ord, with only minor variations, the same (and correct) octaves for nine prophets: Jacob, Moses, Samuel, Joel, Jonah, Habakkuk, Haggai, Malachi, and Joshua. Jeremiah’s octave is also common to all three, although misassigned to Solomon by Baldini. A-­B and N transmit David’s stanza, as does Baldini, who mistakenly gives it to Aaron. Similarly, the octave ascribed to Obadiah by Baldini and in A-­B is also re­ corded in the Purification play, where it is misascribed to Daniel. The octave ac­tually written for Daniel, beginning “Vedendo io la notte in visïone” (cf. Daniel 7:13: Aspiciebam ergo in visione noctis), appears in Baldini’s engraving of Daniel and in the stanza assigned to Daniel in both A-­B and N. This adds up to fourteen octaves for which there are three in­ depen­dent witnesses, and for which the correct match of prophet to prophecy cannot be doubted. In addition, six octaves—those assigned to the prophets Noah, Elijah, Elisha, Amos, Nahum, and Zechariah—are common to two sources, Baldini’s engravings and A-­B. This yields a total of twenty octaves for the prophets that we can con­fi­dently accept as written for those prophets. To this sum we may add another stanza, undoubtedly correctly assigned to Ezekiel in both the Purification play and in A-­B, which begins, “Quattro ruote su in ciel con animali” (cf. Ezekiel 1:15: apparuit rota una super terram iuxta animalia), discarding at the same time the verse that accompanies Ezekiel in Baldini’s 247

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture engraving. We may also add to the list the octaves at­trib­uted in the Purification play to the prophets Zephaniah and Micah, who are not included among Baldini’s prophets. Hardly surprisingly, their verses (which Newbigin showed are derived, respectively, from Sophonias 3:16–17, and Micheas 5:2) are identical to those ascribed to the fictitious sibyls Sofonia and Michea in A-­B. Baldini’s engraving of Baruch provides the unique text for that prophet, but its content, referring to the joyful sign of the star in the east, can be verified by comparing its source in Baruch 3:34–36 (Stellae autem dederunt lumen . . . et laetatae sunt), and there is no compelling reason to question its correctness. Similarly, although both the Purification play and A-­B at­trib­ute stanzas to Hosea, who is not included in Baldini’s engravings, the octaves differ. Even so, the octave transmitted by the Purification play (“imperocché in Egitto manderöe / il Figliuol mio, e poi gli chiameröe”) finds its source in Hosea 11:1 (et ex Aegypto vocavi filium meum), and hence can be accepted as the original verse written for Hosea. No octaves survive for either Aaron or Solomon, who (like Baruch) make appearances only in Baldini’s engravings, in which their accompanying verses, as we have seen, were ac­ tually written for David and Jeremiah, respectively. In sum, twenty-­three or twenty-­four octaves survive that can con­fi­dently be ascribed to the prophet for which each was written. Not all of them appear in any single source, whether in Baldini’s engravings, in either the two versions of the Annunciation play (A-­B and N), or in Piero di Mariano Muzi’s Purification play. This at once suggests that a com248

civic ritual ii plete series of verses in ottava rima for the prophets, numbering no fewer than twenty-­four octaves but possibly running to even more, preexisted not only the engravings but also any of the plays in which the prophets make their appearance, including the Purification play, which is earliest rec­orded as being performed in 1450. Naturally, as had also occurred with the sibyls, confusions occurred as this master list was variously drawn upon by the festaiuoli responsible for staging the sacre rappresentazioni from year to year, sometimes emphasizing the extended and solemn recitation of the prophecies, as in the Purification play or in A-­B, or sometimes reducing the number of prophecies in order to allow more time for the religious drama, as in N. Such confusions could result from inadvertence, for example in the instance of confusing David’s prophecy with Aaron’s, or from egregious carelessness, doubtless brought on by haste, as in the case of the transmutation of Prophets into sibyls, as happened with Zephaniah, Micah, and Hosea in A-­B. One consequence of these confusions is the existence of a number of “orphaned” stanzas. When Baldini assigned David’s prophecy to Aaron, for example, and Jeremiah’s to Solomon, it became necessary for him to substitute other verses for David and Jeremiah. It is not always possible to decide whether these were composed ad hoc or derived from the preexisting compilation of prophetic octaves. Each of the texts preserving the verses contains anomalies, some more extensive than others. Nonetheless, the verses rec­orded in Muzi’s Purification play contain only a few mistakes in attribution to the appropriate Prophet, 249

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture which are easily detected, and none for the three sibyls included. The Newbigin version of Belcari’s Annunciation play (N) is especially reliable, accurately transmitting and matching to the correct speaker the octaves for the three Prophets who take part (David, Daniel, and Isaiah), and also correctly rec­ording and assigning the complete octaves or verse fragments (sestets and couplets) for eight sibyls.

5.  The Vernacular Octaves for the Sibyls and Cardinal Orsini’s Epigrammata: Part II So far as the remaining sibylline stanzas are concerned, we have now exhausted the evidence given by the surviving sacre rappresentazioni and are left only with the verses transmitted by Baldini’s engravings. These must be handled with special care, not only because they introduce errors, but also because they derive from a later redaction of the master list of sibylline octaves that was also used by A-­B. This we have already noticed for the Persian sibyl’s stanza beginning “Ecco la bestia sarà conculcata,” which repeats the corruption introduced into A-­B that at­trib­utes to the Persian sibyl the whole of an octave that, as N attests, in fact combines a sestet ac­tually written for the Persian sibyl with a concluding couplet composed for the Hellespontine sibyl. Baldini’s engravings are the unique source for an additional five sibylline verses. These supply prophecies for the Delphic (no. 3), Cimmerian (no. 4), Cumaean (no. 7), and Tiburtine sibyls (no. 10), as well as Cardinal Orsini’s new sibyl Europa (no. 11). Although com250

civic ritual ii parisons for these stanzas are lacking in surviving sacre rappresentazioni, there remains one invaluable resource. In verifying the accuracy of Baldini’s transcriptions of the verses accompanying each sibyl, comparison of their content with the epigrams invented for the same sibyls in the Orsini series is an indispensable guide. And in fact, although the engravings do present textual prob­lems, the stanzas for these five sibyls all correspond quite satisfactorily with the Orsini epigrams. We may start with the Cumaean sibyl’s stanza, which, as we have seen, was confused in A-­B by ascribing to her a corrupt hybrid that combined a sestet written for the Phrygian sibyl with a couplet composed for the Samian. In Baldini’s engraving, however, the octave begins, “L’ultimo mio parlar fie sì verace / però che giunti son gli ultimi canti / del venimento dello re di pacie,” and this was without question inspired by Virgil’s immortal Ultima Cumaei venit iam carminis aetas, for which the complete passage was quoted in Cardinal Orsini’s epigram for the Cumaean sibyl.25 There is hence no doubt that the verse transmitted by Baldini’s engraving of the Cumaean sibyl is the one written by Belcari for her (no. 7): 7. SIBILLA CUMANA L’ultimo mie parlar fie sì verace, però che giunti son gli ultimi canti del venimento dello Re di pace, di chi ci salverà noi tutti quanti; e prender carne umana sì gli piace, e mostrerassi umil a tutti quanti. 251

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Per madre prende l’umil verginella, la qual sarà sopra ogni donna bella.

The epigram for Cardinal Orsini’s Tiburtine sibyl, which begins, Nascetur Christus in Bethleem et annunciabitur in Nazareth, and ends, O felix mater cujus ubera illum lactabunt, is also manifestly the foundation for the octave transmitted in Baldini’s engraving of the Tiburtine sibyl (no. 10), the unique source for Belcari’s octave giving her prophecy: 10. SIBILLA TIBURTINA Il giusto Dio al tal mestier m’ha dato, ch’ i’ sabbi col mie dir manifestato d’una Vergine che fie nunzïata e Nazaretta per lei abitata. In Bettalem sarà manifestato la carne dove Dio fie umanato. E ben sarà la sua madre felice, che di tal figlio si sarà per nutrice.

Again, the Orsini epigram for the sibyl Europa, Veniet ille et  transibit montes et colles, et latices sylvarum Olympi: regnabit in paupertate et dominabitur in silentio et egredietur de utero virginis, perfectly accounts for the octave rec­orded in Baldini’s engraving of Europa, the only source preserving Belcari’s octave (no. 11): 11. SIBILLA EUROPA Verrà quel Verbo eterno, immaculato, e del Vergine vaso uscirà fora per cui i colli e monti fia passato, 252

civic ritual ii così la sommità d’Olimpo ancora. Sotto gran’ povertà nel mondo nato, signoreggiando con silenzio ogni ora. Così credo e confesso, e conosch’io: vero Figliuol di Dio, e uomo e Dio.

The octaves for the next two sibyls, the Delphic and the Cimmerian, present special (but rewarding) prob­lems, in the former instance because the verses rec­orded by Baldini are badly bungled. The epigram for Cardinal Orsini’s Delphic sibyl, Nascetur propheta absque matris coitu ex virgine eius (which we have already noticed with respect to the couplet at­trib­uted to the Delphic sibyl in N), certainly inspired the verses of the initial sestet of her prophecy, which is uniquely rec­orded in Baldini’s engraving of her: “dove ’l profeta grande a in­ charnare / . . . nel ventre verginal d’uman ancilla / sanza congiunto d’uom mortal” (no. 3). But here the prob­lem be­comes a little more complex. Cardinal Orsini’s painting of the Delphic sibyl was one of only two (the other being the Cimmerian) for whom the manuscripts name a particular source in addition to those rec­orded by Lactantius. The authors cited by Lactantius, sedulously copied out in the manuscripts describing the Orsini sibyls—Nicanor on Alexander the Great as a source for the Persian sibyl, for example, Euripides’ prologue to Lamia for the Libyan, Naevius’s Punic Wars for the Cimmerian, and Chrysippus on divination for the Delphic sibyl—are all virtually useless, having been lost or surviving only in fragments. None were in fact utilized or even known to the cardinal’s 253

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture scholars, who did, however, cite a second source for the Delphic sibyl: “Ovidius Naso, in arte poetica promptissimus.” Moreover, Ovid had also been cited by Christine de Pizan (in Le livre de la cité des dames, completed in 1405) as having written about the Delphic sibyl:—“La troisième [Sibylle] naquit au temple d’Apollon à Delphes . . . et Ovide lui consacra plu­ siers vers dans l’un des ses ouvrages.”26 The citation is in fact to a thirteenth-­century poem then at­trib­uted to Ovid, the De vetula. The poem was extremely widely circulated, and modern scholarship has hypothesized (though controversially) that its true author was Richard de Fournival. It was often cited, and con­trib­uted greatly to the diffusion of a controversial form of astrological speculation introduced into the west in the previous century through the works of the ninth-­century Arab astrologer Albumasar (Abu Ma’shar) concerning the great planetary conjunctions. Albumasar’s Introductorium maius is the ultimate source for “Ovid’s” adaptation of the so-­called horoscope of the world’s great religions, according to which each of the principal religions had been prefig­ured in the stars by the conjunction of Jupiter with one of the other planets—Judaism from the conjunction of Jupiter with Saturn, for example, Islam from Jupiter with Venus, and Chris­tian­i­ty from the conjunction of Jupiter with Mercury.27 Despite opposition by the Church, especially on the dangerous point of whether astrology could have predicted the Incarnation, the theory was widely accepted by adherents including Roger Bacon, who quotes Albumasar ad litteram in his Opus maius,28 Albertus Magnus in his Speculum 254

civic ritual ii astronomiae, and Thomas Bradwardine in his De causa Dei, both of whom also quote Albumasar extensively.29 Each of them particularly refers to the Arab astrologer’s horoscope of the world’s religions, and also to the further theory promulgated by Albumasar and the Pseudo-­Ovid in De vetula that, just as the conjunction of Jupiter with Mercury announced the advent of Chris­tian­i­ty, so the virgin birth of Christ had been prefig­ured in the first decan of Virgo. Bradwardine indeed transcribed the relevant verses of the De vetula in their entirety.30 It is these very verses ascribed to Ovid that are the source for the epigram at­trib­uted to the Delphic sibyl by Cardinal Orsini’s learned scholars: nascetur propheta absque coitu ex virgine eius (L-­T): There was one such [major conjunction] not long ago, in the happy times of Augustus Caesar, in the twenty-­fourth year from the beginning of his reign, which sig­ni­fied that after six years there must be born a Prophet without coitus by his mother, a virgin [nasci debere prophetam / Absque matris coitu de virgine], of whom there is a heavenly con­figu­ra­tion in which the strength of Mercury is greatly multiplied, and this harmonious conjunction will be the beginning of a future sect; for nowhere among the heavenly signs does Mercury so dominate as in the sign of the Virgin; this is his house.31

We thus have double con­fir­ma­tion that the initial sestet of the vernacular octave accompanying Baldini’s Delphic sibyl is in fact the one originally written for her. This is, first, because the content of the sestet matches that of the epigram in255

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture vented for the Delphic sibyl in the Orsini series; and, second, because it also matches the source given for that sibyl in the manuscripts, namely Ovid. The concluding couplet, however, must be amended by substituting for the verse engraved by Baldini (“ecco tal cosa fie sopra natura / fatta per quel che può che Idio darà,” which we have already seen to be an interpolation) the couplet correctly ascribed to the Delphic sibyl in N. This is, as we saw, “Nascer debbe il profeta senza coito / di madre: d’una Vergine è ’l suo introito,” which perfectly translates the Orsini epigram, which in turn derives from the Pseudo-­Ovid’s De vetula. Before reconstructing the complete octave as accordingly emended, however, we must first consider briefly a second corruption introduced into Baldini’s engraving, which is the unique source for the sestet, even as N uniquely preserves the couplet. The rhyme scheme for verses in ottava rima takes the pattern AbAbAb, ending with a concluding couplet, Cc. Our author followed this pattern, and if he was indeed Feo Belcari he is, as Alberto Limentani has shown, a fundamental con­trib­u­tor to the adaptation and re­finement of the traditional forms of ottava rima as inherited, especially, from Boccaccio, taking them in directions that were especially adapted to the requirements of effective oral delivery in theatrical performance.32 The pattern shows, as we clearly see from N, how easily those producing the play in any given year might combine sestets taken from one sibyl’s octave (AbAbAb) with couplets taken from another’s (Cc), while maintaining 256

civic ritual ii coherency of expression and the structural integrity of the octave as a whole. Occasionally, for the sake of va­ri­ety, it is permissible to introduce into a series of octaves one composed entirely of rhymed couplets. This was indeed done in the octave for the Tiburtine sibyl (no. 10). A glance at the octave Baldini reproduced for the Delphic sibyl, however, shows that something has gone terribly wrong. I quote it as it appears in the engraving, including two all-­im­por­tant marginal additions, only lightly edited for the sake of clarity: Non è da esser lenta ma tranquilla averta l’opera e chonsiderare b dove ’l profeta grande a incharnare A l’avenimento che alta villa Nel ventre verginal d’uman’ ancilla sanza congiunto d’uom mortal sa fare eccho tal chosa fie sopra natura fatta per chuel che puo che Idio darà

When, sometime in the 1480s, Francesco Rosselli engraved his broad-­manner copies of Baldini’s prophets and sibyls, he consistently introduced orthographical clar­i­fi­ca­tions to Belcari’s verses as they had been rec­orded in the earlier series, but otherwise reproduced them exactly as they had originally appeared. However, in the single instance of the Delphic sibyl’s octave, her verses were so manifestly incorrect in form and so obscure in meaning that it was deemed necessary to rearrange the octave and to rewrite lines 2, 3, and 8 altogether. The octaves reproduced in Baldini’s prints are indeed marred by a 257

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture number of engraver’s errors. A conspicuous example is the word “tranquilla” in the very first line of the Delphic sibyl’s verse (no. 3), in which the letter “n” was elided (“traquilla”) and then awkwardly squeezed into place after a trial proof was pulled and the omission noticed. Much more seriously, it was also noticed that the third and fourth lines of the octave had been inadvertently transposed, thus destroying the rhyme scheme. For this reason Baldini engraved the letters “b” and “A” in the margin next to these respective lines, to indicate that they should be transposed and that formal order and sense could be restored to the octave by reading it in the form I have given it in the restoration. I have also substituted for the final couplet rec­orded by Baldini, which we have seen to be an interpolation, the authentic couplet as preserved in N. Baldini’s reference in the transposed third and fourth lines to the “alta villa,” or heavenly house in which the Prophet would contrive to become flesh in a virginal womb, is an obscurity explained by the source of the Orsini epigram in the De vetula. The time of the Incarnation is there claimed to coincide with Mercury’s rise to dominance in the heavenly house of Virgo, eius domus. Belcari’s “alta villa” is again evidence that he was working from a more complete manuscript de­scrip­tion of the Orsini sibyls and their epigrams than has so far come down to us. His octave for the Delphic sibyl can be reconstructed thus: 3. SIBILLA DELFICA Non è da esser lenta, ma tranquilla averta l’opera, e considerare 258

civic ritual ii l’avenimento, che alta villa dove ’l profeta grande ha incarnare nel ventre verginal d’uman ancilla. Senza congiunzio d’uom mortal sa fare. Nascer debbe il profeta senza coito di madre: d’una Vergine è ’l suo introito.

The Cimmerian sibyl (no. 4) is the only other for whom the manuscript de­scrip­tions of the Orsini sibyls specify, in addition to an author named by Lactantius (in this case Naevius), a second source, and this is none other than “Albumasar astrologus.” The epigram Baldini ascribes to the Cimmerian sibyl (whom he calls the Sibilla Chimica) in his engraving reads, In pueritia sua cum facie pulcherrima puerum nutriet suo lacte, id est lacte celitus misso. It can be translated, “In her girlhood she, most beautiful of face, nourishes a boy with her own milk, that is, with milk sent from heaven.” This is an abbreviated paraphrase of the epigram composed for Cardinal Orsini’s painting of the Cimmerian sibyl, omitting the all-­ im­por­tant introductory phrase. The Orsini epigram reads, in the fullest form of the prophecy to survive, In prima facie virginis ascendit puella pulchra facie, prolixa capillis, sedens super sedem stratam, nutrit puerum, dans ei ad comedendum vis, id est lac de coelo missum. It translates, “In the first decan of Virgo there arises a girl, beautiful of face, with loosened hair, seated on a covered bench, who nourishes a boy, giving him strength, that is, milk sent from heaven.” The epigram is founded in the same astrological horoscope prefiguring the Incarnation that had been derived from Albumasar and transmitted by Pseudo-­ Ovid in the De vetula. The first five lines of the octave re259

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture corded in Baldini’s engraving clearly paraphrase the Orsini epigram, which in this case is based directly in Albumasar, although (as with the abbreviated Latin form of the epigram appearing in his engraving) Baldini omits the crucial reference to the first decan of Virgo. The last three lines of the octave, referring to the Adoration of the Magi, do not re­flect any part of the Orsini epigram that has come down in the manuscripts. However, as we shall now see, these lines are certainly derived from a more complete manuscript de­scrip­ tion of the Orsini epigram for the Cimmerian sibyl than any that has survived. There can be no doubt that the octave appended to Baldini’s engraving is the one written for the Cimmerian sibyl, which can con­fi­dently be given as follows: 4. SIBILLA CHIMICA Una Vergine Santa in puërizia, colla sua faccia gloriosa e bella, nutrirà il Re dell’eterna milizia: e ber del latte suo gli darà quella, per la cui si vedrà l’alta letizia sopra, vittoria l’è la santa stella, e sarà vicitata da coloro che gli offerano incenso, mira, e oro.

The citation of Albumasar is to the Introductorium maius, which was, as we have seen, a decisive work for transmitting Arabic astrological thought to the West. The Introductorium had first been translated in the twelfth century by Johannes Hispalensis and by Hermann of Carinthia and was also sum260

civic ritual ii marized by Hermann in his De essentiis; from these, Albumasar’s thought was diffused throughout the whole of Europe. A particular claim in the Introductorium, to which we have referred in our discussion of Pseudo-­Ovid’s De vetula, is especially relevant here. This is Albumasar’s assertion that astrological knowledge had anticipated the virgin birth of Christ. The astrologer’s prophecy, as transmitted especially by Hermann of Carinthia, was ubiquitously repeated by William the Astrologer of Rheims, Robert Grosseteste, Roger Bacon, Jean de Meaune (Roman de la Rose, vv. 19177–19190), Albertus Magnus (who quotes the passage in its entirety), Bernard Silvestris (Megacosmus III, 53–54), and others. The epigram for Cardinal Orsini’s Cimmerian sibyl and Belcari’s stanza deriving from it (also including the final three lines referring to the star observed by the Magi) ultimately derive from Albumasar’s Introductorium (VI, 2), which I quote here via Hermann of Carinthia’s translation and commentary in the first book of his De essentiis: Although the Holy Fathers describe at very great length the story of Jesus Christ, aside from other things whereby they most vehemently confute the stubbornness of the in­fi­dels, they passed over one im­por­tant point, which perhaps was unknown to them until now—for, as the poet tells us, not all of us are capable of all things. Albumasar inserted this point from the Persian astronomers Hermes and Astalius in his treatise on Astrology, and we have translated [Albumasar’s] passage in this same book in these words: “They say that in the first decan of Virgo a young girl rises—in their language 261

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture seclios darzama, adre nedefa, as the Arabs interpret it, which among us means ‘pure virgin’—seated on her finely decorated throne, holding two ears of corn in her hand, nourishing a boy and feeding him with her ius [broth] in a region named ‘Hebrea,’ and the boy is called Jesus.” In my opinion the Wise Men also recognized the boy, being informed by reading this and then having seen his star. Thus especially the blindness of the Jews is shown here, since even in natural speculation and the order of the ages the truth of Jesus Christ was in fact first known by a foreign nation. For the astrologer sees the whole situation more clearly. How wonderful it is that he could announce a wonder that he saw would happen in the future against the laws of nature! For who would believe the words of a man, or would not argue against his assertion if he were to make known openly that a virgin would give birth to a child? What he says, however, is reasonable. For ius is the juice from the flesh. Ius therefore is the milk on which the child feeds. But no woman has ever been able to feed a child with this unless she has given birth beforehand.33

Despite the citation of Albumasar in the manuscript de­ scrip­tions of the Orsini sibyls, it is likely that the Cimmerian sibyl’s epigram was derived via the intermediary of Albertus Magnus’s paraphrase of Hermann’s translation in the Speculum astronomiae. This be­comes clearer when we note that the northern European recension (L-­T) reports that the girl rising in the first decan of Virgo is honesta et munda, “honorable and pure,” a phrase omitted from Barbieri’s rendering of the Cimmerian sibyl’s epigram in the fullest redaction to have 262

civic ritual ii survived (no. 4). In different ways, both L-­T and Barbieri abbreviate the Orsini epigram, which in its complete form is not transmitted by any of the existing manuscripts. However, it undoubtedly read as follows in the account of the Orsini sibyls consulted by the author of the octave: In prima facie virginis ascendit puella honesta et munda, pulchra facie, prolixa capillis, sedens super sedem stratam, nutrit puerum, dans ei ad comedendum ius, id est lac de coelo missum. For this Albertus Magnus is the source, in a passage quoting at length from Albumasar’s Introductorium. The italics are mine: For, in [Albumasar’s] Treatise Six, Chapter One, in the section on the rising of those images that ascend with the sign of Virgo, this is found: “And in the first decan there arises a girl [et ascendit in prima facie illius puella] whom he calls Celchius Darostal; and she is a virgin, beautiful and honorable and pure [pulchra atque honesta et munda], with unbound hair [prolixa capilli], holding two ears of wheat in her hand; and she sits on a covered bench [sedet super sedem stratam] and nurses a boy [et nutrit puerum], nourishing him with broth in [dans ei ad comedendum ius] in a place called Abrie. And a certain people call this child Jesus, which is translated as Eiçe in Arabic.34

6.  The Erythraean and Hellespontine Sibyls We have established vernacular octaves for eleven of the twelve sibyls, and may now at length turn to the prob­lem of the persistent confusion between the Erythraean and Helles263

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture pontine sibyls. It is a confusion as old as antiquity, and it arises from the rival claims of Marpessus in the Troad and Erythrae in Ionia to be the home of the one and only true sibyl and her oracle.35 So far as the Orsini sibyls are concerned, the prob­lem, as Maurice Hélin was acutely aware, derives from the circumstance that the manuscript tradition transmitting epigrams for both the Erythraean and Hellespontine sibyls is almost hopelessly confused.36 The northern European recension of the de­scrip­tion of the sibyls in the Cardinal’s camera parimenti (L-­T) assigns to the Erythraean sibyl the epigram beginning De excelso coelorum habitaculo, which is without doubt the source for Belcari’s stanza, “Risguardöe Dio dello eccelso abitacolo” (no. 5). But it also takes note of a second epigram, the familiar Iudicii signum from the acrostic verse that St. Augustine at­trib­uted to the Erythraean sibyl (Civitas Dei, XVIII, xxiii), which almost certainly records the inscription accompanying the sculpture of the Erythraean sibyl adorning one of the choir stalls of Cologne cathedral. The only other non-­Orsinian prophecy cited in the northern European recension is one alternatively ascribed to the Samian sibyl, In ultima vero etate veniet agnus celestis: humiliabitur Deus (no. 6). This derives from the Pseudo-­Joachite Vaticinum Sibyllae Erythraeae, and no doubt rec­ords the inscription accompanying the Samian sibyl in the choir at Cologne.37 In other words, the epigram is taken from the same taurus pa­cificus prophecy ascribed to the Erythraean sibyl that Giovanni Pisano quoted when he sculptured her for the façade of the Duomo in Siena. So far as the Ital­ian recension (M) is 264

civic ritual ii concerned, Barbieri also at­trib­utes this epigram from the taurus pa­cificus oracle to the Erythraean sibyl, while Baldini, and oddly in the light of the very different octave appended at the bottom of the engraving, at­trib­utes to her yet a third epigram entirely unrelated to that octave. This is the familiar prophecy rec­orded by Lactantius (Divinae institutiones, VII, xviii) and Augustine (Civitas Dei, XVIII, xxiii), beginning Morte morietur, which we have already noticed in connection with Benozzo Gozzoli’s fresco of the Erythraean sibyl in the frame of Fra Angelico’s Crucifixion in the Chapter Room of San Marco. Nevertheless, there can be no doubt that the epigram beginning De excelso coelorum habitaculo prospexit Deus is the one ac­tually invented for Cardinal Orsini’s series of sibyls, not only because the epigrams devised for those paintings were all new inventions referring only to the Incarnation (and expressly did not repeat the traditional prophecies rec­orded by Lactantius and Augustine), but also because the octave “Risguardöe Iddio dell eccelso habitacolo” is a paraphrase of it. Moreover, this stanza, which Baldini accurately transcribed in his engraving of the Erythraean sibyl, is also ascribed to her in both the D’Ancona-­Banfi (A-­B) and Newbigin (N) versions of Belcari’s Annunciation play. Given the exceptional accuracy with which N in particular quotes and assigns the sibyls’ prophecies, correctly attributing to each her proper oracle (whether in complete octaves, excerpted sestets, or final couplets), the preponderance of evidence strongly favors assigning the unquestionably authentic stanza “Risguardöe 265

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture Iddio” to the Erythraean rather than the Hellespontine sibyl. However, it is worth investigating briefly the story of the confusion of the two sibyls. Despite Baldini’s accurate quotation of the octave “Risguardöe Iddio” in his engraving of the Erythraean sibyl (no. 5), he misat­trib­utes the epigram from which it certainly derives (Ex excelso habitaculo respexit Deo humiles in his version) to the Hellespontine sibyl (no. 8). The Ital­ian recension of the de­scrip­tion of the Orsini sibyls (M), including Barbieri, also gives the epigram De excelsis coelorum habitaculo respexit Deus humiles to the Hellespontine sibyl. The northern European recension (L-­T), on the other hand, correctly assigns the epigram to the Erythraean sibyl. So far as M is concerned, the change of attribution seems to have been motivated by the desire, in the case of the Erythraean sibyl, to af­firm the still very familiar medieval traditions rec­ording the prophecy of this, the best known of all the sibyls, by quoting either the Augustinian Morte morietur (Baldini) or equally familiar Pseudo-­Joachite taurus pa­cificus oracle (Barbieri). This desire necessitated the transfer of the Orsini epigram devised for the Erythraean sibyl, De excelsis habitaculo, to another sibyl, the Hellespontine. The octave for the Erythraean sibyl was written before the switch was made, and indeed in Baldini’s engraving the particular at­trib­ute of the star-­spangled heavenly circle upon which the Erythraean sibyl sits (in accordance with her forma in the Orsini series) seems explicable only as having been motivated by the high dwelling place to which the epigram refers. So too does the sibyl’s monastic 266

civic ritual ii dress, which evokes the humiles toward whom the Lord’s gaze is turned. For these reasons, I have ascribed the octave beginning “Risguardöe Iddio” to the Erythraean sibyl (no. 5). The prob­lem, however, is compounded when we turn to the Hellespontine sibyl (no. 8), the twelfth and last sibyl to be considered. Indeed, having rejected the testimony of the Ital­ian recension (M), including Barbieri, and accordingly returned the Orsinian epigram De excelsis habitaculo to the Erythraean sibyl, when we come to consider the Hellespontine sibyl we are left only with the evidence of the northern European recension (L-­T). This at­trib­utes to the Helles­ pontine sibyl an awkwardly sutured bipartite epigram: Ihesus Christios nascetur de casta. Felix ille Deus ligno qui pendet ab alto. The first part is not ancient, and does refer, though in only the briefest terms, to the Incarnation. The second part, unconnected to the first, refers to the Crucifixion and derives from an earlier medieval tradition. It is inscribed, for example, on the sculpture of the Hellespontine sibyl carved by Jörg Syrlin for the choir stalls in the Cathedral of Ulm, dating to around 1470, which is part of a series of sibyls otherwise heavily de­pen­dent on Lactantius.38 This suggests that the epigram is another interpolation deriving from the inscriptions originally devised for the choir sculptures in Cologne, which, as we have seen, were incorporated into the northern European recension describing the Orsini paintings. Mâle traced its source to Sozomen’s Historia ecclesiastica (III, I, 10), and De Clerq to the Versus Sibyllae of the eighth or ninth centuries.39 267

The Early Renaissance and Vernacular Culture However, although the single unadorned phrase in the first part of the epigram, Ihesus Christios nascetur de casta, leaves us with little in the way of descriptive detail to go on when evaluating the octave rec­orded in Baldini’s engraving of the Hellespontine sibyl (for which there is no other witness), we have already seen that the epigram does perfectly account for the Hellespontine sibyl’s couplet as rec­orded in N. And this couplet, if substituted for the concluding verse of the Hellespontine sibyl’s octave as rec­orded by Baldini perfectly completes the opening sestet of that same octave. Assuming this to be the octave composed for the Hellespontine sibyl (and we have exhausted all other alternatives), the complete stanza would accordingly read: 8. SIBILLA ELISPONTICA Nella mia scuola stando, vidi fare tanto ‘n una fantina grand’onore qual in verginità si vuol salvare, e per divina grazia e suo valore, discende in lei e viene incarnare figliuol che fia di tanto splendore. Vaticinare una parola basta: Cristo Gesù nascerà della casta.

268

A p p en d i x

Cardinal Orsini’s Twelve Sibyls and Their Prophecies in Vernacular Octaves Reconstructed

Fig. A.1. The Persian Sibyl, British Museum, London.

ON E

Nomen: Sibilla Persica (The Persian Sibyl) Epigramma: (Barbieri) Ecce bestia conculaberis et gignetur Dominus in orbem terrarum: et gremium virginis erit salus gentium: et pedes eius in valitudine hominum: et invisibile verbum palpabitur. (Baldini Engraving) Ecce filius Dei belluam equitans Dominus universi cuius quias gentium salutis in Virgine erit et fiet nobis hoc verbum palpabile. Forma: (L-­T) Prima sibilla sedet in throno, ac etiam subsequentes, diuersimodo tamen, quod fieri debet secundum uoluntatem pictoris. Itaque tam facies quam uestes et earum throni sint diuersi. Et dipingitur ita prima, annorum triginta, in habitu deaurato, habens sub pede serpentem, quamuis dictus cardinalis Ursinorum poni fecit ursum sub pede; et tenet dicta sibilla prima rotulum in quo scribitur hoc quod sequitur: Sibilla Persicus cuius mentionem facit Nichanor hec ayt: Ecce bestia conculaberis, et gignetur Dominus. . . . (M) Sibilla persica annorum XXX; vestita aurea veste cum vello albo in capite dicentis Ecce bestia .  .  . (Barbieri) Eam tamen aurea veste indutam et candido velo copertam . . . Octave from Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Persica Eccho per chui la bestia chonchulchata sara e fia concepto el Sir gochondo el grenbo della Vergine beata salute fia della gente del mondo 271

Appendix saranno e piedi suo di questa nata fortezza da sostenere ogni pondo vanticinare una parola basta XRO Gesu nascera della chasta

The Octave for the Sibilla Persica Reconstructed Ecco per cui la bestia conculcata sarà, e fia concetto el Sir giocondo: il grembo della Vergine beata salute fia della gente del mondo: saranno i piedi suoi, di questa nata, fortezza da sostenere ogni pondo. E mostrerà in quel tempo segni assai: simil la terra e ’l ciel non ebbe mai.

Comment: The sestet, closely paraphrasing the epigram composed for the Persian sibyl in the Orsini series, is transmitted in Feo Belcari’s Annunciation play (N), in which it is correctly ascribed to her and completed by a couplet also correctly at­trib­uted to the Hellespontine sibyl (no. 8). The sestet is also transmitted and correctly assigned to the Persian sibyl by Baldini and in the second Annunciation play (A-­B). In both, however, the Hellespontine sibyl’s couplet is presented as if spoken by the Persian, thus corrupting the transmission of the octave as a whole. The Persian sibyl’s couplet is uniquely preserved in (A-­B), where it is erroneously assigned to the Hellespontine. The essence of her prophecy, referring to prodigious heavenly signs, derives from St. John the Evan272

Appendix gelist’s vision of the Apocalyptic Woman trampling the serpent underfoot. This is made even more explicit by the forma devised for her by Cardinal Orsini’s scholars, in which she is described as habens sub pede serpentem. However, the reference was muted, as the manuscripts attest, by a jeu d’esprit substituting the Orsini bear for the serpent in the cardinal’s painting of the Persian sibyl. Baldini’s engraving does not include the serpent. Nor do other cycles of the sibyls deriving from the Orsini paintings.

273

Fig. A.2. The Libyan Sibyl, British Museum, London.

T WO

Nomen: Sibilla Libica (The Libyan Sibyl) Epigramma: (Barbieri) Ecce veniet dies et illuminabit Dominus condensa tenebrarum: et solvetur nexus Sinagogae: et desinent labia hominum cum viderint regem viventium: et tenebit illum in grembo virgo domina gentium: et regnabit in misericordia: et uterus matris eius erit statera cunctorum: inde in minibus iniquias veniet et dabunt Deo alapas minibus incestis miserabilis et ignominiosus erit miserabilusque spem prebebit. (Baldini Engraving) Ecce venientem diem et latentia aperientem tenebit gremio gentium regina. Forma: (L-­T) Secunda sibilla, iuuenis, depingitur annorum uiginti quatuor, cum veste asure, et colombio subgriseo et tenet scriptum: Sibilla Libica cuius meminit Eruspides ait: Ecce veniet dies et illuminabit Dominus condensa tenebrarum .  .  . (M): Sibilla Libica annorum XXIV; ornate serto viridi et florum in capite, vestita palio honesto et non multum iuuenis. (Barbieri): Ornata serto viridi et florido in capite, vestita pallio honesto. Octave from Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Libica Il di verra che l’etterno Signiore lume dara alle chose naschose e legami i scora del nostri errore fara le sinagoge luminose e solvera le lab[bra] al pechatore 275

Appendix e fie stadera di tute le chose en grenbo alla r[eg]ina delle giente sedra questo re santo e vivente

The Octave for the Sibilla Libica Reconstructed Ecco che presto ne verrà quel die che lucerà le tenebre serrate, e scioglieransi nodi e profezie della gran sinagoga, e rilasciate saran le labbra delle gente pie: vedrassi il Re de’ viventi, e palpate saran sue membra in grembo a Vergin vera, e ’l ventre suo fia di tutti stadera.

Comment: The full octave for the Libyan sibyl, closely following the epigram written for her in the Orsini series, is correctly preserved in Belcari’s Annunciation play (N) and in Muti’s Purification play (ed. Newbigin). It is also transmitted in Baldini’s engraving of the Samian sibyl and in the Annunciation play (A-­B), both of which erroneously ascribe the stanza to the Samian sibyl (no. 6). In Baldini’s case, the cause of the error was undoubtedly a hasty reading and confusion of the opening words of the Orsini epigrams written for the Libyan (Ecce veniet dies) and Samian (Ecce veniet dives) sibyls, which resulted in the octave that was engraved at the bottom of the Samian sibyl’s plate. The mistake was recognized, however, and a new octave in­de­pen­dently composed for the Libyan sibyl that accurately summarizes the content of the epigram for that sibyl. 276

Fig. A.3. The Delphian Sibyl, British Museum, London.

THREE

Nomen: Sibilla Delfica (The Delphic Sibyl) Epigramma: (Barbieri) Nascetur propheta absque matris coitu ex virgine eius. (Baldini Engraving) Nascetur propheta e virgine absque humana corruptione. Forma: (L-­T) Tercia sibilla, iuuvenis, annorum viginti, uestitur serico panno damasceno, et in dextera manu tenet cornu bucinatorum aureum, et in leua tenet scriptum quod sequitur: Sibilla Delphica que ante troyana bella vaticinata est, de qua Crisippus et Ouidius Naso, in arte poetica promptissimus, ayunt: Nasci debere prophetam absque ma[t]ris coitu ex virgine eius. (M) Sibilla delfica que ante troyana bella prophetavit, vestita veste nigra et capillis circumligatis capiti; in manu cornu tenens et iuvenis, ait: Nasci debere prophetam absque matris coitu ex virgine eius. (Barbieri) vestita veste nigra et capillis circumligatis capiti in manu cornu tenens et iuuenis. Octave from Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Delfica Non e da eser lenta ma tranquilla Averta l’opera e chonsiderare b dove ’l profeta grande a incharnare A l’avenimento che alta villa Nel ventre verginal d’uman ancilla sanza congiunto d’uom mortal sa fare eccho tal chosa fie sopra natura fatta per chuel che puo che Idio dara 279

Appendix The Octave for the Sibilla Delfica Reconstructed Non è da esser lenta, ma tranquilla. Averta l’opera e considerare l’avenimento, che alta villa dove ’l profeta grande ha incarnare nel ventre verginal d’uman ancilla, senza congiunzio d’uom mortal s’ fare. Nascer debbe il profeta senza coito di madre: d’una Vergine è ’l suo introito.

Comment: Baldini’s engraving is the unique source for the opening sestet of the octave. However, it accurately incorporates the content of the Delphic sibyl’s epigram in the Orsini series as rec­orded by Barbieri, as well as that epigram’s source in the Pseudo-­Ovidian’s De vetula (III, 611–20), which refers to the virgin birth of a prophet fig­ured in the sign of Virgo, the heavenly house (alta villa) of Mercury. The couplet is transmitted by Belcari’s Annunciation play (N), where it is correctly ascribed to the Delphic sibyl. The third and fourth lines of the octave were transposed when the engraving was cut, the error noticed, and the letters b and A inserted in the margin to indicate the correct order in which the lines were to be read.

280

Fig. A.4. The Cimmerian Sibyl, British Museum, London.

F OU R

Nomen: Sibilla Chimica (The Cimmerian Sibyl) Epigramma: (Barbieri) In prima facie virginis ascendit puella pulchra facie, prolixa capillis: sedens super sedem stratam: nutrit puerum, dans ei ad comedendum ius proprium: id est, lac de coelo missum. (Baldini Engraving) In pueritia sua cum facie pulcherrima puerum nutriet suo lacte id est lacte celitus misso. Forma: (L-­T) Quarta Sibilla annorum uiginti quatuor; vestitur serico figurato damasceno blaueo, tenens scriptum: Sibilla Chimeria, in Ytalia nata, de qua Eminius [Naevius] et Albunazar astrologus, uiri magne intelligentie, sic ayunt: In prima facie virginis ascendet puella quedam honesta et munda . . . (M) Sibilla Cimica annorum XVIII; in Italia nata. Vestita celestina veste deaurata capillis per scapulas sparsis. Dicit sic: In prima facie .  .  . (Barbieri) Vestita celestina veste deaurata capillis per scapulas sparsis: et iuvenis. Octave fron Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Chimica Una Vergine Santa in puerizia cholla sua faccia groriosa e bella notrira re dell’etterna milizia e ber del latte suo gli dara quella per la chui si vedra l’alta letizia sopra avittoriale la santa istella e sara vicitata da choloro che gli offerrano incienso mira e oro 283

Appendix The Octave for the Sibilla Chimica Reconstructed Una Vergine Santa in puërizia, colla sua faccia gloriosa e bella, nutrirà il Re dell’eterna milizia, e ber del latte suo gli darà quella per la cui si vedrà l’alta letizia: sopra, vittoria l’è la santa stella, e sarà vicitata da coloro che gli offerano incenso, mira, e oro.

Comment: Baldini’s engraving is the unique source for Belcari’s octave for the Cimmerian sibyl. However, its content closely paraphrases both her epigram in the Orsini series and, according to Albertus Magnus’s quotation in his Speculum astronomiae of the source for that epigram, a passage from Hermann of Carinthia’s translation of Albumasar’s Introductorium maius (I, 6), which is also the source for the octave’s conclusion with the visit of the Magi.

284

Fig. A.5. The Erythrean Sibyl, British Museum, London.

FIVE

Nomen: Sibilla Eritrea (The Erythraean Sibyl) Epigramma: (Barbieri) In ultima autem aetate humiliabitur Deus et humanabitur proles divina: jungetur humanitati divinitas. Jacebit in feno agnus, et officio puellari educabitur Deus et homo. Signa praecedunt apud Apellas. Mulier vetustissima puerum prestium concipiet. Boetes orbis mirabitur, et ducatum praestabit ad ortum. (Baldini Engraving) Morte morietur tribus diebus somno suscepto et mo[x] ab inferis egressu ad luce veniet primus. Forma: (L-­T) Quinta Sibilla annorum quinquaginta, tenet gladium recuruum in dextera pendentem et cruentatum, et habitu monialis uestitur, subalbis uestibus pedes habens supra celum rotundum azureum stellatum, et tenet rotullum in quo scribitur: Sibilla nobilissima Ericthea nomine Erophila, in Babilonia orta, de Cristo sic ayt: De excelso celorum habitaculo prospexit humiles suos  .  .  . Item de eadem sibilla hos versus scribit Augustinus in sermone qui incipit: Vos, inquam, o Iudei: Iudicii signum tellus sudore madescet. (M) Sibilla Erithea annorum  .  .  . In Babilonia nata, ornatu habitu monachali veste induta, nigro vello in capite, manu gestans gladium nudum, non multum antiqua, mediocriter facie turbata, ha­ bens sub pedibus circulum aureum ornatum stellis ad similitudinem celi. Dicit sic: In ultima etate . . . (Barbieri) No descriptive details. 287

Appendix Octave from Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Eritrea Risguardo Iddio dello excelso abitacolo gli umili suoi e nascera ne gorni u[l]timi dicho chon questo miracolo d’una Vergine ebrea con tutti adorni chostumi el suo figluol sanz’ altr’ ostacolo nelle terrene chulle si soggorni nascera gram profephta alto e acorto di Vergin madre et questo el vero scorto

The Octave for the Sibilla Eritrea Reconstructed Risguardöe Iddio dell’ eccelso abitacolo gli umili suoi, e nascerà ne’ giorni ultimi, dico, con questo miracolo d’una Vergine ebrea, con tutti adorni costumi, il suo figliuol: senz’ altro ostacolo nelle terrene culle si soggiorni; nascerà gran’ profeta, alto e accorto, di Vergin madre, et questo el vero scorto.

Comment: The sestet is transmitted by Belcari’s Annunciation play (N), in which it is followed by a couplet correctly at­trib­ uted to the Delphic sibyl (no. 3). The sestet is also accurately transmitted and assigned in the Annunciation play (A-­B), in which, however, the Delphic sibyl’s couplet is erroneously given as the conclusion to the Erythraean sibyl’s octave. Baldini correctly rec­ords both sestet and couplet, his engraving being the unique source for the latter. 288

Fig. A.6. The Samian Sibyl, British Museum, London.

SIX

Nomen: Sibilla Samia (The Samian Sibyl) Epigramma: (Barbieri) Ecce veniet dives et nascetur de paupercula: et bestiae terrarum adorabunt eum: et dicent, Laudate eum in atriis coelorum. (Baldini Engraving) Ecce veniet dives et e paupere nascetur et bellve eum adorabunt. Forma: (L-­T) Sexta sibilla annorum XXIIII; uestitur ueluto rubeo et tenet scriptum: Sibilla Samia a Samos insula sic dicta, Semonoe nominata de qua scribit et ayt: Ecce veniet dives et nascetur de paupercula . . . Item de eadem: In ultma uero etate ueniet agnus celestis: humiliabitur deus .  .  . (M) Sibilla Samia a Samo insula annorum XXIV. Iuvenis habens formosum pectus, su[b]tili vello capite coperto, manum ad pectus tenens, ensam nudam sub pedibus habens, dicit sic: Ecce veniet diues . . . (Barbieri) nudum ensem sub pedibus, formosum pectus, subtileque velum in capiti habens. Octave from Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Samia O echo che presto ne verra quel die che lucera le tenebre serrate e scoglerassi nodi e profezie della gra’ssinaghogha rilascate saran le labbra delle gente pie vedrassi e re di viventi e palpate el venir suo in grenbo a vergin vera che cosi mostra el cielo e ogni spera 291

Appendix The Octave for the Sibilla Samia Reconstructed El magno Dio con la Potenza pia per fiato manderà suo figlio santo, qual fie Gesù, e lui concetto fia per salute del mondo tutto quanto. Costui ogni potenze avrà in balia, e pover nascerà e senz’ amanto. Di poverella il ricco essendo nato, dalle bestie di terra fia adorato.

Comment: The couplet is spoken by and correctly at­trib­uted to the Samian sibyl in Belcari’s Annunciation play (N), in which it completes a sestet uttered by the Phrygian sibyl. It is also preserved in the Annunciation play (A-­B), in which the verses composed for the two sibyls are combined in an octave erroneously assigned in its entirety to the Cumaean sibyl. The sestet for the Samian sibyl is uniquely preserved in (A-­ B), in which, however, it is erroneously ascribed to the Hellespontine sibyl.

292

Fig. A.7. The Cumaean Sibyl, British Museum, London.

SEVEN

Nomen: Sibilla Cumana (The Cumaean Sibyl) Epigramma: (Barbieri) Ultima Cumaei venit iam carminis aetas: / ​ Magnus ab integro saeclorum nascitur ordo, / Iam redit et virgo, re­ deunt Saturnia regna; / Iam nova progenies caelo demittitur alto. / Tu modo nascenti puero, quo ferrea primum / Desinet ac toto surget gens aurea mundo, / casta fave Lucina: tuus iam regnat Apollo. (Baldini Engraving) Iam redit et virgo redeunt Saturnia regna / iam nova progenies celo demittitur alto. Forma: (L-­T) Septima sibilla annorum octodecim, habens crines reflexos retro caput, induitur deaurata ueste, tenens in sinistra librum clausum, in dextera uero librum apertum, in quo scribitur: Sibilla Cumana uel Cumea, a Cuma ciuitate Campanie, nomine Amalthea, quae fuit tempore Terqui prisci, de qua Virgilius ayt: Ultima Cumei venit iam carminis etas. . . . (M) Sibilla Cumana annorum XVIII, tempore tarquinij persi prisci, vestita aurea veste, librum apertum et altum in manu gestans, sinistra habens super genu, capite discoperto, dicit sic: Magnus ab integro seculorum nascitur ordo . . . (Barbieri) No descriptive details. Octave from Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Cumana L’u[l]timo mie parlar fie si veracie pero che giunti son gli u[l]timi canti del venimento dello re di pacie di chi cci salvera noi tutti quanti 295

Appendix e prendera carn’ umana si gli piacie e mosterrassi umil a ttutti chuanti per madre prende l’umil verginella la chual sara sopr’ ogni donna bella

The Octave for the Sibilla Cumana Reconstructed L’ultimo mie parlar fie sì verace, però che giunti son gli ultimi canti del venimento dello Re di pace, di chi ci salverà noi tutti quanti; e prender carne umana sì gli piace, e mosterrassi umil a tutti quanti. Per madre prende l’umil verginella, la qual sarà sopra ogni donna bella.

Comment: Baldini’s engraving is the unique source preserving Belcari’s octave for the Cumaean sibyl. The Orsini epigram quotes Virgil’s fourth Eclogue (IV, 10), of which the first two lines of the octave are a paraphrase, the balance of the poem being a rehearsal of the well-­known interpretation of Virgil’s poem as a prediction of the birth of Christ.

296

Fig. A.8. The Hellespontine Sibyl, British Museum, London.

EIGHT

Nomen: Sibilla Elispontica (The Hellespontine Sibyl) Epigramma: (Barbieri) De excelsis coelorum habitacolo prospexit Deus humiles suos. Et nascetur in diebus novissimis de virgine hebrea in cunabulis terrae. (Baldini Engraving) Ex eccelso habitaculo respexit Deus humiles et in terris novissimis diebus ex hebrea virgine nascetur. Forma: (L-­T) Octaua sibilla, annorum quinquaginta, depingitur caput habens ligatum per totum ut morista; terribilis in aspectu et tenet scriptum: Sibilla Elispontia in agro troyano nata, que scribitur Solonis fuisse et Cyri temporibus, de qua scribit Eraclius et ayt: Ihesus Christios nascetur de casta: Felix ille Deus ligno qui pendet ab alto. (M) Sibilla helespontina annorum XL; in agro troyano nata, vetula et antiqua, veste rurali induta, ligato velo antiquo capite sub gula circumvoluto usque ad scapulas qui despectu habitu, de qua scribit Heraclius, dicit sic: De excelsis coelorum habitaculo prospexit Deus humiles suos . . . (Barbieri) vetula et antiqua, veste rurali induta, ligato velo antiquo capite sub gula circumvoluta usque ad scapulas, quasi despecta . . . Octave from Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Elispontica Nella mie scola stando vidi fare tanto ’n una fantina grand’onore quale ’n verginita si vuol salva[re] e per divina grazia e ssuo valore 299

Appendix discende [in] llei e vien ancarnare figluol che ffia di tanto splendore e ffie d’Iddio suo figluol veracie che ttut’ tolse col nostro porran pacie

The Octave for the Sibilla Elispontica Reconstructed Nella mia scuola stando, vidi fare tanto ’n una fantina grand’onore, qual in verginità si vuol salvare; e per divina grazia e suo valore, discende in lei e viene incarnare figliuol che fia di tanto splendore. Vaticinare una parola basta: Cristo Gesù nascerà della casta.

Comment: The couplet is transcribed and correctly assigned to the Hellespontine Sibyl in Belcari’s Annunciation play (N), following a sestet spoken by the Persian sibyl. It is also preserved in the Annunciation play (A-­B) in an octave at­trib­ uted in its entirety to the Persian sibyl. The same corruption is repeated in Baldini’s engraving of that sibyl (no. 1). Baldini is the unique source for the Hellespontine sibyl’s sestet.

300

Fig. A.9. The Phrygian Sibyl, British Museum, London.

NIN E

Nomen: Sibilla Frigia (The Phrygian Sibyl) Epigramma: (Barbieri) Flagellabit Deus potentes terrae, et Olympo excelso veniet: et firmabitur consilium in coelo, et annunciabitur virgo in vallis desertorum. (Baldini Engraving) Veniet desuper filius Dei et firmabitur in celo consilium et virgo annunciabitur. Forma: (L-­T) Nona sibilla antiqua dipingitur turpis et nigra, capillos habens tortos et expansos supra dorsum more egiptiaco; subcincta ad pectus et renes duplici corrigia, vestem habens de tela grossa, colobium habens rubeum, et tenet scriptum: Sibilla Frigea que vaticanata est Anchire de Christo sic ayt: Flagellabit Deus potentes terre; ex Olimpo excelsus veniet. (M) Sibilla Frigia valde antiqua; induta veste rubea, nudis brachiis, antiqua facie saturnina, crinibus sparsis per dorsum; digito indicans, dicit sic: Flagellabit Deus . . . (Barbieri) induta veste rubea: nudis brachiis: antiqua saturnine facie: crinibus sparsis: digito indicans . . . Octave from Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Frigia Vidi l’eccelso Idio che fragellare ave disposto la gente ostinata nel secolo nostro che cierto mi pare si possa dir pelle fatte peccata onda disposto suo figluol mandare i Virgine per vocie anunziata 303

Appendix pella sua umilta sara posato e questa fie cagion torvi el pechato

The Octave for the Sibilla Frigia Reconstructed Batterà Dio i potenti di terra, dal sommo ciel verrà lo eccelso a noi, e fermerà il concilio senza guerra: la Vergin fia annunzïata poi: nelle deserte valli si disserra: questo è quell ch’io ne dico a tutti voi: però divoto intenda ciascheduno, umile e puro e di colpe digiuno.

Comment: The Phrygian sibyl’s octave is preserved in its entirety in the Purification play (ed. Newbigin). The sestet is also transmitted and accurately assigned to the Phrygian sibyl in Feo Belcari’s Annunciation play (N), in which it is completed by the Samian sibyl’s couplet. The latter is then corrupted into a single octave erroneously given to the Cumaean sibyl in the Annunciation play (A-­B).

304

Fig. A.10. The Tiburtine Sibyl, British Museum, London.

TEN

Nomen: Sibilla Tiburtina (The Tiburtine Sibyl) Epigramma: (Barbieri) Nascetur Christus in Betheleem et annunciabitur in Nazareth, regente tauro pa­cifico, fundatore quietis: O felix illa mater cuius ubera illum lactabunt! (Baldini Engraving) Nascetur in Bettelem in Nazaret annumtiabitur regnante quieto tauro. Forma: (L-­T) Decima sibilla, annorum uiginti, pulcra facie et alba, depingitur habens pellem caprioli siluestris ad spatulas; itaque pedes anteriores cum capite animalis sint reflexi desuper ad pectus et posteriori infixi ad corrigiam, et uestitur rubeo, more romano, tenens scriptum: Sibilla Tiburtina, nomine Asbulnea, que vaticinata est romanis, cuius simulacrum tenebat librum ubi scriptum erat: Nascetur Christus in Betheleem, et annunciabitur in Nazareth regnante tauro pa­cifico . . . (M) Sibilla tiburtina annorum XX. Veste rubea induta, desuper ad collum pellem hyrcinam per scapulas habens capillis discopertis. Brevem in manu tenens, dicit sic: Nascetur Christus in Bethleem . . . (Barbieri) Sibylla tiburtina nomine Albunea non multum senex: que tyburi colitur ut dea iuxta ripas amnis: in cuius gurgite simulachrum eius inventum dicitur: te­ nens in manu librum; tunica crocea vestietur, violato mantello superimposito. Octave from Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Tiburtina Il gusto Ddio al ttal mestier ma dato chi v’ abbi col mie dir manifestato 307

Appendix d’una Vergine che ffie nunziata e Nazarette per lei abitata en Bettalem sara manifestato la carne dove Dio fie humanato e ben sara la sua madre filicie che di ital figlo si sara per notricie

The Octave for the Sibilla Tiburtina Reconstructed Il giusto Dio al tal mestier m’ha dato ch’ i’ v’abbi col mie dir manifestato d’una Vergine che fie nunzïata e Nazarette per lei abitata. In Bettalem sarà manifestato la carne dove Dio fie umanato: e ben sarà la sua madre felice, che di tal figlio si sarà per nutrice.

Comment: Baldini’s engraving is the unique source for the Tiburtine sibyl’s octave, which, however, quite accurately para­ phrases the Orsini epigram for the Tiburtine sibyl.

308

Fig. A.11. The Sibyl Europa, British Museum, London.

ELEVEN

Nomen: Sibilla Europa (The Sibyl Europa) Epigramma: (Barbieri) Veniet ille et transibit montes et colles, et latices sylvarum Olympi: regnabit in paupertate et dominabitur in silentio: et egredietur de utero virginis. (Baldini Engraving) Veniet colles et montes transiens et in paupertate regnans eum silentio dominabitus et e i virginis vase exiliet. Forma: (L-­T) Undecima sibilla depingitur annorum quindecim, pulchrior ceteris, cum aurea ueste; habens pepulum subtilissimum, subaureos crines subtiliter retro caput nodatum, et tenet scriptum: Sibilla Europhila de Christo sic ayt: Veniet ille et transibit colles et montes et latices Olimpi . . . (M) Sibilla europa annorum XV; decora iuvenis facile rutilans, velo subti­ lissimo capite ligata, induta veste aurata, breve in manu tenens dicti sic: Veniet ille et . . . (Barbieri) decora iuvenis facie rutilans velo subtilissimo capite ligata induta veste aurea. Octave from Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Europa Verra quel verbo etterno inmaculato e del Vergine vaso uscira fora per chui i cholli e monti fia passato chosi la sonmita d’Olinpo anchora sotto gran poverta nel mondo nato singnioregiando chon silenzio omni ora chosi credo e cchonfesso e chonosch’io vero figliuol di Ddio ed uomo ed Dio 311

Appendix The Octave for the Sibilla Europa Reconstructed Verrà quel Verbo eterno, immaculato, e del Vergine vaso uscirà fora per cui i colli e monti fia passato, così la sommità d’Olimpo ancora, sotto gran povertà nel mondo nato, signoreggiando con silenzio ogni ora. Così credo e confesso e conosch’io: vero Figliol di Dio, e Uomo e Dio.

Comment: Baldini’s engraving is the unique source for the sibyl Europa’s octave. It closely paraphrases the content of that sibyl’s epigram in the Orsini series.

312

Fig. A.12. The Sibyl Agrippa, British Museum, London.

T W E LV E

Nomen: Sibilla Agrippa (The Sibyl Agrippa) Epigramma: (Barbieri) Invisibile verbum palpabitur et germinabit ut radix: et siccabitur ut folium: et non apparebit venustas eius: et circumdabitur eum alvus materna: et flebit Deus laetitia sempiterna et ab hominibus conculabitur: et nascetur ex matre ut Deus: et conversabitur ut peccator. (Baldini Engraving) Hoc verbum invisibile tangi et permittet et tanquam radicies germinabit. Forma: Duodecima sibilla et ultima, annorum triginta, dipingitur matura et grauis, romano more induta, colobium habens de ueluto rubeo et tenet scriptum: Sibilla Agrippa sic ayt de Christo: Invisibile verbum palpabitur et germinabit ut radix, et siccabitur ut folium . . . (M) Sibilla Agripa, anorum XXX; vestita rosea veste cum clamide rosea, non multum iuvenis, manum tenens in gremio quasi admirans, et sinistram manum tenens ostendendo deorsum breve scripto: Invisibile verbum palpabitur . . . (Barbieri) rosea veste cum clamide rosea non multum iuvenis tenens in gremio quasi admirans et deorsum respiciens. Octave from Baccio Baldini’s Engraving of the Sibilla Agrippa Quando sara questo sommo diletto il qual entendo che ssara ’ncharnato verbo divin gusto sante prefetto in prima ventre materno criato di spirito santo sanza difetto 315

Appendix el qual fie po da molti dispregato riprendera con dolciezza d’amore e rei e buoni fie lor pregio e onore

The Octave for the Sibilla Agrippa Reconstructed Sarà palpato lo invisibil Verbo, e poi germinerà come radice: secco sarà sì come il foglio acerbo e non apparirà bello e felice: grembo materno ne farà riserbo, di poi piangerà Dio come infelice, e nascerà di madre come Dio, poi tra gli altri userà come uom rio.

Comment: The octave for the sibyl Agrippa, a paraphrase of her prophecy in the Orsini series, is preserved and accurately at­trib­uted to her in Belcari’s Annunciation play (N) and the Purification play (ed. Newbigin). It is also transmitted in the Annunciation play (A-­B), in which, however, it is erroneously assigned to the Tiburtine sibyl. The octave accompanying Baldini’s engraving is a later interpolation.

316

Notes

=

1.  Courtly Lyric I: Simone Martini, French Courtly Lyric, and the Vernacular 1. René Wellek, “The Term and Concept of ‘Classicism’ in Literary History,” in Aspects of the Eighteenth Century, ed. E. R. Wasserman (Baltimore, 1965), pp. 105–28. See, more recently, Wilhelm Voss­ kamp, “Begriffliche Differenzierung: Klassisch, Klassik, Klassizismus,” in Ästhetische Grundbegriffe, ed. Martin Fontius (Stuttgart, 2001), 3:295. 2. Goethe, Werke, III, Abt. 1, p. 305; quoted in Wallace K. Ferguson, The Renaissance in Historical Thought: Five Centuries of Interpretation (Toronto, 1948), p. 137. 3. Sydney J. Freedberg, Painting in Italy 1500–1600 (The Pelican History of Art), 1st rev. paperback ed. (Harmondsworth, 1975), pp. 14–17. 4. E. H. Gombrich, Norm and Form: Studies in the Art of the Renaissance

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Notes to Pages 12–32 (London, 1966), pp.  95–96. The contrast between Raphael, famous for his Madonnas, and the Prot­es­tant Rembrandt, who was not, is odd. Gombrich must have had in mind the famous long axis of the Gallery of the Zwinger in Dresden, at one end of which appears Raphael’s immortal Sistine Madonna, and at the other end Rembrandt’s enchanting painting of himself bouncing his first wife, Saskia, on his knee. 5. Hans Belting, Art History after Modernism (Chicago, 2003), p. 130. 6. Aby Warburg, The Renewal of Pagan Antiquity: Contributions to the Cultural History of the European Renaissance, ed. Kurt Forster (Los Angeles, 1999), p. 157, and (for previous quotation) p. 89. 7. Henry Thode, Franz von Assisi und die Anfänge de Kunst der Renaissance in Italien (Berlin, 1885). Translated into Ital­ian as Francesco d’Assisi e le origini dell’arte del Rinascimento in Italia, ed. Luciano Bellosi (Rome, 1993). 8. See Cesare Vasoli, “Due momenti della discussione sul Rinascimento di Burckhardt: Émile Gebhart e Konrad Burdach,” in Rina­ scimento, mito e concetto, ed. Renzo Ragghianti and Alessandro Savorelli (Pisa, 2005), pp 213–54. 9. Konrad Burdach, Riforma—Rinascimento—Umanesimo: Due dissertazioni sui fondamenti della cultura e dell’arte della parola moderna, trans. Delio Cantimori (Florence, 1935). 10. Elizabeth Cropper, “On Beautiful Women, Parmigianino, Petrarchismo, and the Vernacular Style, Art Bulletin 58 (1976): 374– 94. 11. Charles Dempsey, The Portrayal of Love: Botticelli’s Primavera and Humanist Culture at the Time of Lorenzo the Magnificent, (Prince­ton, NJ), 1992. 12. Giovanni Pozzi, “Il ritratto della donna nella poesia d’inizio Cinquecento e la pittura di Giorgione,” Lettere italiane 31 (1979):3– 30; and the following essays by Elizabeth Cropper: “The Beauty of Women: Problems in the Rhetoric of Female Portraiture,” in

318

Notes to Pages 32–42 Rewriting the Renaissance: The Discourses of Sexual Difference in Early Modern Europe, ed. Maureen W. Quilligan and Nancy Vickers (Chicago, 1986), pp.  175–90; and “The Place of Beauty in the High Renaissance and Its Displacement in the History of Art,” in Place and Displacement in the Renaissance, ed. A. Vos, (Binghamton, NY, 1995), pp. 159–205. 13. Eugenio Garin, “Michelangelo as Platonist,” in The Complete Works of Michelangelo (an Artebras Book; New York, n.d.), pp. 519–21. 14. Leonardo: Trattato della Pittura, ed. Ettore Camesasca (Vicenza, 2000), p. 12: “Qual poeta con parole ti metterà innanzi, o amante, la vera effigie della tua idea con tanta verità, qual farà il pittore? Quale sarà quello che ti dimostrerà i siti de’fiumi, boschi, valle e campagne, dove si rappresentano i tuoi passati piaceri con più verità del pittore?” And see Treatise on Painting (Codex Urbinas Latinus 1270) by Leonardo da Vinci, ed. and trans. A. Philip McMahon (Prince­ton, NJ), 1956, p. 13. 15. Jennifer Fletcher, “Bernardo Bembo and Leonardo’s Portrait of Ginevra de’Benci,” Burlington Magazine 131 (1989):  811–16. 16. Ital­ian Paintings of the Fifteenth Century (The Collections of the National Gallery of Art: Systematic Catalogue, National Gallery of Art, Washington), ed. Miklós Boskovits and David Alan Brown, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C., pp. 357–69. 17. Virtue and Beauty (exhibition catalogue, National Gallery of Art), ed. David Alan Brown, Washington, D.C., 2001, no. 16, pp. 142– 46. 18. For Botticelli’s Primavera, see Dempsey, The Portrayal of Love, and for Botticelli’s Mars and Venus, see “Spirits of the Nightmare,” in  Charles Dempsey, Inventing the Renaissance Putto (Chapel Hill, NC), 2001, pp.  107–46 (with a parallel mention of Bronzino’s London Allegory). 19. Ulrike Ilg, “La scoperta della natura in pittura,” in Storia delle arti in Toscana: il Trecento, ed. Max Seidel (Florence, 2004), pp. 171–96.

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Notes to Pages 43–58 20. C. Jean Campbell, “The Lady in the Council Chamber: Diplomacy and Poetry in Simone Martini’s Maestà,” Word and Image 14, 4 (1998): 371–86. 21. Beat Brenk, “Narrazione o l’arte di raccontare,” in Seidel, Storia delle arti in Toscana, pp. 197–225, esp. p. 209. 22. Ibid., p. 209. 23. The question of the invention of terza rima is, however, still far from settled. See “Coscienza metrica di Dante: Terzina e altre misure,” in Guglielmo Gorni, Il nodo della lingua e il verbo d’amore: Studi su Dante e altre duecentisti (Florence, 1981), pp. 187–215. 24. Max Seidel, “La scoperta del Sorriso: Vie di diffusione del Go­ tico francese (Italia centrale, 1315–25),” Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz 51 (2007): 45–157. 25. Enzo Carli, Simone Martini: La Maestà (Milan, 1996), pp. 16–18. 26. Hans Belting, Likeness and Presence: A History of the Image before the Era of Art, trans. Edmund Jephcott (Chicago, 1994), pp.  404– 408. 27. Peter Riedl, Das Maestà-­Bild in der Sieneser Malerei des Trecento, Tübingen, 1991, which emphasizes the Frenchness of Simone’s conception. See also Johann Michler, “Vermittlungswege gotischer Bauformen im frühen Trecento,” Mitteilungen des Kunsthistorischen Instituts in Florenz 41, no. 1–2 (1997): 164–76. 28. Alessandro Bagnoli, La Maestà di Simone Martini (Milan, 1999), p. 95. 29. Ibid., pp. 40–42. For the analogy with French goldsmith work, see in particular the classic study by Luciano Bellosi, “Il pittore oltremontano di Assisi, il Gotico a Siena, e la formazione di Simone Martini,” in Simone Martini, atti del convegno: Siena 27, 28, 29 marzo 1985, ed. Luciano Bellosi (Florence, 1988), pp. 39–47. I believe the first to draw special attention to the Gothic architectural form of the Madonna’s throne was Irene Hueck, “Frühe Arbeiten von Simone Martini,” Münchner Jahrbuch der bildenden Kunst 19 (1968): 29–60. See also August B. Rave, Fronleichnam in Siena: Die

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Notes to Pages 58–62 Maestà von Simone Martini in der Sala del Mappamondo unter besonderer Berücksichtigtung der Darstellung im Palazzo Communale von San Gimignano (Worms, Germany), 1986. 30. Bagnoli, La Maestà di Simone Martini, pp.  24 and 29. See further Brigitte Klesse, Seidenstoffe in der italienischen Malerei des 14. Jahrhunderts (Bern, 1967), pp. 131, 193 no. 54, and 399–400 no. 382b. Simone’s depiction of fabrics imported from Asia is treated in Rosamond Mack, Bazaar to Piazza: Islamic Trade and Ital­ian Art 1300–1600 (Berkeley, CA, 2002); see p.  35 for Angevin impor­ tation of Persian and Tatar fabrics such as those depicted in Simone’s Uffizi Annunciation, a great number of which, including velvets, the Angevin kings donated to San Francesco at Assisi. See also Andrew Martindale, Simone Martini, (Oxford, 1988). Simone repeated the pattern of the Madonna’s dress in the Maestà in the vestments of St. Martin and two clerics depicted in the Capella di San Martino at Assisi showing the death of the saint. 31. Kata Latinon, in Patrologia Greca, 155, cols. 168–69. 32. Cyril Mango, The Art of the Byzantine Empire 312–1453, (Englewood Cliffs, NJ, 1972), p. 254. Here I am following the translation of Henry Maguire, to whom I am also grateful for discussing the prob­lems raised by Symeon’s text, which he treats in “Rhetoric and Reality in Byzantine Art,” to appear in Bildrhetorik (=Rhetorik: Ein internationales Jahrbuch), and further for referring me to an article by Demetrios Pallas, “Ai aisthetikai ideai ton byzantinon pro tes aloseos (1453),” Epeterus tes Hetaireos Byzantinon Spoudon, pp. 313– 31, esp. p. 328. See also Maria G. Parani, Reconstructing the Reality of Images: Byzantine Material Culture and Religious Iconography, 11th–15th Centuries (Leiden, 2003), esp. p. 238. 33. See further Alexander Nagel, “Fashion and the Now-­Time of Renaissance Art,” Res: Anthropology and Aesthetics 46 (Autumn 2004): 33–52; and, most recently, Alexander Nagel and Christopher S. Wood, Anachronic Renaissance (Brooklyn, NY, 2010), pp. 85–86.

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Notes to Pages 63–65 34. De Ierusalem celesti, II, 225–28, 233–34: “So lofty and great is this noble maid, that the angels and saints speak and tell stories about her, inasmuch as she is more precious and beautiful than any flower of the meadow or any new rose. . . . Whence an innumerable celestial company perpetually salutes her with ev­ery cortesia.” Despite my challenging Carli’s retreat from the clear meaning of the text, and hence the interpretive context within which Simone’s Maestà is to be understood, he deserves full credit for having recognized its importance. 35. Hayden B. J. Maginnis, The World of the Early Sienese Painter, (University Park, PA, 2001), pp. 65–66, who observes, “One such baldachin is depicted in Simone’s Palazzo Pubblico Maestà.” See also Diana Norman, “‘Sotto un baldachino trionfale’: The Ritual Significance of the Painted Canopy in Simone Martini’s Maestà,” Renaissance Studies 20 (2006): 147–60. 36. Campbell, “The Lady in the Council Chamber.” 37. Ibid., p. 372. Also see Guido Guinizelli, Poesie, ed. E. Sanguinetti (Milan, 1986), no. 4, pp. 59–60: “She had the appearance of an angel who came from Your kingdom. No sin is imputable to me if I place my love/praise in her.” 38. Campbell, “Lady in the Council Chamber,” p.  376; and Guinizelli, Poesie, no. 10: “I wish to praise my lady truly, and compare the rose and the lily to her; more than the morning star does she shine and appear; and all that was bountiful on high I liken to her. She is like a green shore, I say, like the air, like all the colors of flowers, yellow and vermilion, gold and azure, like rich jewels meant for gifts. Through her, love itself be­comes finer.” 39. Campbell, “Lady in the Council Chamber,” p. 376; and Bagnoli, La Maestà di Simone Martini, p. 158: “Thirteen hundred and fif­teen had turned, and Delia had thrust forth ev­ery beautiful flower, and Juno was already proclaiming, ‘I have turned.’ ” The text of the triplet was established by Guido Mazzoni, “Influssi danteschi nella Maestà di Simone Martini (Siena 1315–1316),” Archivio storico

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Notes to Pages 65–66 italiano 94, no. 2 (1936): 144–62. See also the im­por­tant recent studies by Gorni, Il nodo della lingua (as in note 23); Giulia Valerio, “Sull’iscrizione della Maestà di Simone,” Studi medievali, ser. 3, 27 (1986): 147–62; and Furio Brugnolo, “Le terzine della Maestà di Simone Martini e la prima diffusione della Commedia,” Medioevo romanzo 12 (1987): 135–54. Valerio, following Mazzoni, notes that Diana was first called “Delia” in vernacular poetry in Purgatorio 29, 77–78 (“tutti in quei colori / onde fa l’arco il Sole e Delia il cinto”), although Diana’s personification as the spring (preceding Juno as summer) rather derives directly from Latin literature, and spe­cifi­cally from Horace (Odes IV, vi), who invokes Delia as a goddess who stimulates the growth of vegetation. 40. Campbell, “Lady in the Council Chamber,” p. 377; and Bagnoli, La Maestà di Simone Martini, p. 158: “The angelic little flowers, roses and lilies, with which the celestial meadow adorns itself, do not delight me more than good counsel.” 41. Petrarch, a Humanist among Princes: An Anthology of Petrarch’s Letters and of Selections from His Other Works, ed. David Thompson (New York, 1971), no. 23, p. 87. 42. Petrarch, Canzoniere, 77, in Petrarch’s Lyric Poems: The Rime sparse and Other Lyrics, ed. and trans. Robert M. Durling (Cambridge, MA), pp.  176–77. In Durling’s translation, the sonnet reads: “Even though Polycleitus should for a thousand years compete in looking with all the others who were famous in that art, they would never see the smallest part of the beauty that has conquered my heart. But certainly my Simone was in Paradise, whence ­comes this noble lady; there he saw her and portrayed her on paper, to attest down here to her lovely face. The work is one of those which can be imagined only in heaven, not here among us, where the body is a veil to the soul; it was a gracious act, nor could he have done it after he came down to feel heat and cold and his eyes took on mortality.” Durling’s translation of cortesia as “a gracious act” is correct, but it limits the poet’s association of

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Notes to Pages 66–71 the painter with an idea of courtliness that he must have experienced directly in Paradise.

2.  Courtly Lyric II: Sandro Botticelli and Poliziano: Humanist Learning and the Vernacular 1. Hans Belting, “Das Bild als Text: Wandmalerei und Literatur im Zeitalter Dantes,” in Malerei und Stadtkultur in der Dantezeit: Das Argumentation der Bilder, ed. Hans Belting and Dieter Blume (Munich, 1989), pp.  23–64; and Hans Belting, “The New Role of Narrative in Public Painting of the Trecento: Historia and Allegory,” in Pictorial Narrative in Antiquity and the Middle Ages, ed. Herbert L. Kessler and Marianna S. Simpson, Studies in the History of Art, Vol. 16, National Gallery of Art, Washington, 1985, pp. 151– 68. 2. Charles Dempsey, The Portrayal of Love: Botticelli’s Primavera and Humanist Culture at the Time of Lorenzo the Magnificent (Prince­ton, NJ, 1992), pp. 53–64; and Charles Dempsey, Inventing the Renaissance Putto (Chapel Hill, NC), 2001. 3. See, for example, Alexander Perrig, “Formen der politischen Propaganda der Kommune von Siena in der ersten Trecento-­Hälfte,” in Bauwerk und Bildwerk im Hochmittelalter: Anschauliche Beiträge zur Kultur-­ und Sozialgeschichte, ed. K. Klausberg et al. (Giessen, 1981), pp.  213–34; and Andrew Martindale, Simone Martini (London, 1988). The classic, but by no means exclusive, account of Sienese po­lit­i­cal thought and the decoration of the Palazzo Pubblico is still Nicolai Rubenstein, “Political Ideas in Sienese Art: The Frescoes by Ambrogio Lorenzetti and Taddeo di Bartolo in the Palazzo Pubblico,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 21 (1958): 179–207. For an excellent summary and selective assimilation of the more recent scholarship, see C. Jean Campbell, The Commonwealth of Nature: Art and Poetic Community in the Age of Dante (University Park, PA), 2008.

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Notes to Pages 72–83 4. Campbell, Commonwealth of Nature, pp. 1–18. 5. E. Panofsky, Renaissance and Renascences in Western Art (Norwich, CT, 1960), pp. 172–200. The derivation of Botticelli’s Venus from the prototype of the Medici Venus was first pointed out by A. Michaelis, Archäologische Zeitung (1880), pp.  11–17, and repeated by E.  Müntz, Histoire de l’art pendant la Renaissance (Paris, 1889–95), pp. 224–25. 6. A. Poliziano, Stanze cominciate per la giostra del magnifico Giuliano di Piero de’ Medici, ed. V. Pernicone (Turin, 1954), I, pp. 99–101. 7. H.  P. Horne, Alessandro Filipepi, Commonly called Sandro Botticelli, Painter of Florence (London, 1908), p. 150. 8. Ibid. 9. A. Politianus, Liber epigrammatum graecorum, ed. F. Pontani (Rome, 2002), no. 54, p. 222. 10. See, for example, the epigrams on Apelles’ Aphrodite Anadyomene by Archias (“Cypris . . . wringing with her fresh hands her locks soaked with the foam of the waters”) and Democritus (“When Cypris, her hair dripping with the salt foam, rose naked from the purple waves, even in this wise holding her tresses with both hands close to her white cheeks, she wrung out the brine of the Aegean”). See The Greek Anthology (Loeb Classical Library), V, xvi, nos. 178–82. Pliny, Naturalis historiae, xxxv, xxxvi, 91, whose own de­scrip­tion of the Venus Anadyomene Poliziano cites in his letter to Codro, also remarks that the painting was “made famous by the Greek verses that sing its praises.” 11. Ovid, Ars Amatoria, III, 224. See also the paraphrase by Ausonius of Democritus’s epigram from the Greek Anthology (cited in the previous note): “Ut complexa manu madidos salis aequore crines ​ / Humidulis spumas stringit utraque comis.” Ovid’s line, however, remained the locus classicus evoking Apelles’ foam-­born Venus wringing her hair, and it was to inspire many later Renaissance representations of Venus Anadyomene, among them Ti­ tian’s above-­mentioned painting (intended literally to be taken as

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Notes to Pages 83–108 an emulative re-­creation of Apelles’ masterpiece), and Giambologna’s statue of Venus for a fountain at Castello, in which ac­tual drops of water fall from the goddess’s hair into the ba­sin below. In both, Venus wrings her hair with two hands, whereas Vincenzo Danti’s Venus Anadyomene for the Studiolo of Francesco I de’ Medici in the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence represents her using only one. 12. A. Poliziano, Detti piacevoli, ed. T. Zanato (Rome, 1983), no. 328, p.  99. See also nos. 200 and 366 for other witticisms of Botticelli. 13. Dempsey, Portrayal of Love. 14. For this and what follows, see Dempsey, Inventing the Renaissance Putto, chap. 3. 15. Ibid., p. 89. 16. This is also the fundamental argument of my book The Portrayal of Love. 17. Dempsey, Inventing the Renaissance Putto, p. 203 and plate 3. 18. Virtue and Beauty: Leonardo’s Ginevra de’ Benci and Renaissance Portraits of Women (exhibition catalogue), ed. D. A. Brown, National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C., 2001, Cat. 28, pp. 182–85. Also see the excellent catalogue of the exhibition or­ga­nized around this painting in Frankfurt, Botticelli: Likeness, Myth, Devotion, ed. Andreas Schumacher (Frankfurt am Main, 2009). 19. Luigi Pulci, Opere minori, ed. P. Orvieto (Milan, 1986), pp. 21–30. For what follows I am heavily indebted to Orvieto’s excellent notes and commentary to the Galee per Quarrachi. 20. Dempsey, Portrayal of Love, p. 68. 21. Dempsey, Inventing the Renaissance Putto, p. 143. 22. For the text of the Raccolta Aragonese, which is conventionally ascribed to Poliziano writing in Lorenzo’s stead (though in my opinion the question is still open, and the text could also be the result of a collaboration), see Prosatori volgari del Quattrocento, ed. C. Varese (La letteratura italiana: Storia e testi, Vol. 14; Milan, n.d.).

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Notes to Pages 108–122 23. E. Donato, “Death and History in Politian’s Stanze,” MLN 80 (1965): 27–40.

3.  Civic Ritual I: Cardinal Orsini’s Paintings and Baccio Baldini’s Engravings of the Sibyls: Humanist Learning and Vernacular Drama 1. Poggio Bracciolini, Lettere III: Epistolarum familiarum libri secundum volumen, ed. Helen Harth (Florence, 1987), pp. 280–82. 2. A. Amberger, Giordano Orsinis Uomini famosi in Rome: Helden der Weltgeschichte im Frühhumanismus, Munich, 2003. See also two essays by Matilde Gagliardo: “Una raccolta di ‘scripta’ dallo ‘Studio’ del Cardinale Gordano Orsini e gli affreschi delle Sei Età del Mondo nel suo palazzo romano,” Annali della Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa, 4th series, 1–2 (1996): 107–18; and “I ‘Quattro Elementi’ della Sala Theatri nel palazzo romano del cardinale Giordano Orsini,” Prospettiva 108 (2002): 36–64. See also Paul Joannides, Masaccio and Masolino: A Complete Catalogue (London, 1983), pp.  452–55, cat. L9; Robert L. Mode, “Uccello and the Orsini ‘Uomini Famosi,” Burlington Magazine 114 (1972): 369–78; and Robert L. Mode, “The Orsini Sala Teatri at Monte Giordano in Rome, Renaissance Quarterly 26 (1973): 167–72. Five copies of the series of uomini famosi have been iden­ti­fied; see Amberger, Giordano Orsinis Uomini famosi in Rome, for illustrations and a detailed discussion of these. No copies are known of the paintings of sibyls and prophets in the camera paramenti. 3. Gagliardo, “Una raccolta”; and Joannides, Masaccio and Masolino. See W.  A. Simpson, “Cardinal Giordano Orsini (†1438) as a Prince of the Church and a Patron of the Arts,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 29 (1966): 135–59; S. Tomasi Velli, “Scipio’s Wounds,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 58 (1995): 216–34 (which conveniently lists all of the more than three hundred fig­ures portrayed in the Sala Theatri); and Lucy Whitaker, “Maso Finiguerra, Baccio Baldini, and the Florentine Picture

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Notes to Pages 122–124 Chronicles,” in Florentine Drawings at the Time of Lorenzo the Magnificent: Papers from a Colloquium Held at the Villa Spelman, Florence, 1992, ed. Elizabeth Cropper, (Bologna, 1994), pp. 181–96. Sidney Colvin, A Florentine Picture Chronicle (London, 1898), is still indispensable, even though his attribution of the drawings to Maso Finiguerra no ­longer carries conviction. 4. Christopher S. Celenza, “The Will of Cardinal Giordano Orsini (ob. 1438),” Traditio 51 (1996): 257–86. 5. The prophecies of the sibyls as rec­orded by Lactantius are conveniently extracted and listed in Emile Mâle, L’Art religieux de la fin du Moyen Age (Paris, 1925; 1st ed. 1908), p. 257. The section of this volume devoted to the sibyls (pp.  253–79), which derives from Mâle’s Ph.D. dissertation (“Quomodo Sibyllas recentiores artifices repraesentaverint,” Paris, 1899), is still fundamental. Mâle makes the im­por­tant point that the Greek text of the Oracula Sibyllina, upon which Lactantius depends for the prophecies he cites, was completely unknown until it was discovered in Basel in 1545. 6. Ibid., p. 255. Exceptions to this rule may be found in manuscript illumination, a notable example being Christine de Pisan’s Le livre de la Cité des Dames, in which the author names the ten sibyls transmitted to the Middle Ages by Lactantius, deriving them for the most part (but not exclusively) via Vincent of Beauvais’s Speculum historiale (III, cii), which in turn follows Isidore of Seville. See Christine de Pisan, Le livre de la Cité des Dames, ed. T. Moreau and E. Hicks (Paris, 1986), part 2, chaps. 1–3; M. Cheney Curnow, “The Livre de la Cité des Dames of Christine de Pisan: A Critical Edition,” Ph.D. diss., Vanderbilt University, 1975, pp. 183–89, 786– 94, and 1077–80; and, with some illuminations of the sibyls, Maureen Quilligan, The Allegory of Female Authority: Christine de Pizan’s Cité des Dames (Ithaca, NY, 1991), pp. 105–16. Christine had earlier treated the ten sibyls at shorter length in Le chemin de long Estude, and the Cumaean sibyl (whom she confuses with the Tiburtine) in L’Epistre d’Othéa.

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Note to Page 124 7. De civitate Dei, XVIII, xxiii. The Erythraean sibyl’s prophecy reads: I Iudicii signum tellus sudore madescet. H E caelo rex adveniet per saecla futurus, S Scilicet ut carnem praesens, ut iudicet orbem. O Unde Deum cernent incredulus atque fidelis U Celsum cum sanctis aevi iam termino in ipso. S Sic animae cum carne aderunt, quas iudicat ipse, X Cum iacet incultus densis in vepribus orbis. R Reicient simulacra viri, cunctam quoque gazam, E Exuret tellus ignis pontumque polumque I Inquirens, taetri portas effringet Averni. S Sanctorum se denim cunctae lux libera carni T Tradetur, montes aeterna flamma cremabit. O Occultos actus retegens tunc quisque loquetur S Secreta, atque Deus reserabit pectora luci. Q Tunc erit et luctus, stridebunt dentibus omnes. E Eripitur solis iubar et chorus interit astris. O Volvetur caelum, lunaris splendor obibit; U Deiciet colles, valles extollet ab imo. I Iam aequantur campis montes et caerula ponti O Omnia cessabunt, tellus confracta peribit: S Sic pariter fontes torrentur fluminaque igni. S Sed tuba tum sonitum tristem demittit ab alto W Orbe, gemens facinus miserum variosque labores, T Tartareumque chaos monstrabit terra dehiscens. H Et coram hic Domino reges sistentur ad unum. R Reccidet e caelo ignisque et sulphuris amnis. As Augustine points out, the sequence of letters in Latin could not be kept where the letter upsilon appears in the original Greek (in lines 5, 18, and 19), because Latin words are lacking that would preserve the sense of the verse. The acrostic made up of the first letter of each line reads ‘Ihsous Xreistos Jeou uios

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Notes to Pages 124–126 swthr, the first letters of which in turn form another acrostic, ixjus, or “fish,” the mystic name for Christ. 8. Migne, Patrologia Latina, XLII, 1117–25. 9. Karl Young, The Drama of the Medieval Church (Oxford, 1933), 2:125–32. 10. Patrologia Latina, XLII, 1127. For the use of the Contra Iudaeos as the sixth lectio of Matins in a twelfth-­century lectionary from Arles, concluding with this rebuke to the Jews, see Young, Drama of the Medieval Church, 2:126–31. 11. Jules Durand, “Monuments figurés du Moyen Age exécutés d’après des textes liturgiques,” Bulletin Monumentale (1888): 521–50; and see Emile Mâle, L’Art religieux du XIIIe siècle en France (Paris, 1925), p. 163. See also F. Gandolfo, “La Cattedrale nel Medioevo: I cicli scultorei,” in La Cattedrale di Cremona: Affreschi e sculture, ed. A. Tomei (Milan, 2001), pp. 17–65, esp. pp. 22 and 28. 12. Young, Drama of the Medieval Church, 2:125–71. Also see Young’s “Ordo Prophetarum,” Transactions of the Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts, and Letters 20 (1921): 1–82, as well as J. Haffen, Contribution à l’etude de la Sibylle médiévale (Paris, 1984). 13. Matilde Gagliardo, “Le Sibille in giardino: Un ciclo di affreschi per Giovanni Romei a Ferrara,” Prospettiva 64 (1991): 28–37, esp. p.  31 n. 7. And see Enzo Carli, Il Duomo di Siena (Siena, 1979), pp. 50ff.; and John Pope-­Hennessy, Ital­ian Gothic Sculpture, 4th ed. (London, 1996), p.  34ff. For the inscription and its derivation from a prophecy at­trib­uted to the Erythraean sibyl, deriving from the Joachimistic Minorites, see O. Holder-­Egger, “Italienisches Prophetieen des 13. Jahrhunderts. I,” Neues Archiv der Gesellschaft für ältere deutscher Geschichtskunde 15 (1890): 141–78, esp. pp. 159 and 161 for the prophecy, which I abstract from here: Inde taurus pa­cificus sub leni mugitu mundi climata sub tri­ buto concludet. Cuius diebus agnus celestis veniet, de quo infe­ rius distinguemus.  .  .  . In ultima autem etate humiliabitur Deus, et humanibitur proles divina, iungetur humanitati di-

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Notes to Pages 126–129 vinitas, iacebit in feno agnus, et puellari officio educabitur Deus et homo. Signa precedunt apud Apellas, mulier vetustissima prescium concipiet, Bootem orbis mirabitur, ducatum prestabit ad ortum. The manuscript glosses say of the Taurus pa­cificus that “id est, Octavianus imperator; that Apellas (“id est, sine pelle, circumcisus”) refers to the Jews; and that Bootes refers to a “nova stella.” For a survey of the traditions of sibylline prophecy during the medieval period, with especially useful bibliographical citations of the technical literature, see B. McGinn, “Teste David cum Sibylla: The Significance of the Sibylline Tradition in the Middle Ages,” in Women of the Medieval World: Essays in Honor of John. H. Mundy, ed. Jules Kirschner and S.  F. Wemple (Oxford, 1985), pp. 7–35; as well as J.-­D. Gauger, Sibyllinische Weissagungen (Darmstadt, 1998); and Marjorie Reeves, The Influence of Prophecy in the Later Middle Ages: A Study in Joachimism (Oxford, 1969). 14. See Lactantius, Div. Inst., VII, xviii, and Augustine, Civ. Dei, XVIII, xxiii. For Fra Angelico’s fresco, see W. Hood, Fra Angelico at San Marco (New Haven, CT, 1993), pp. 168–69 and 188–89. The fig­ures on the frame were first at­trib­uted to Benozzo Gozzoli, working as Angelico’s assistant, by Giorgio Bonsanti, “Gli affreschi del Beato Angelico,” in La chiesa e il convento di San Marco a Firenze (Florence, 1990), 2:115–77; and the attribution has been endorsed by Diane Ahl, Benozzo Gozzoli, (New Haven, CT, 1996), pp. 14–18. A similar instance appears in Cosimo Rosselli’s pairing of the Erythraean sibyl alone with the prophet Daniel in the Salutati Chapel in the Duomo of Fiesole, painted around 1446, in which she is iden­ti­fied by the inscription on her scroll, “E caelo rex adveniet,” deriving from the second line of the Iudicii signum prophecy (see note 7 above). For the Salutati Chapel frescoes, see V. Budny and F. Dabell, “Hard at Work ‘di notte chome di dì’: A Close Reading of Cosimo Roselli’s Career, with Some New Documents,” in Cosimo Rosselli, Painter of the Sistine Chapel

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Notes to Pages 129–130 (exhibition catalogue, Cornell Fine Arts Museum at Rollins College), ed. A.  R. Blumenthal, Winter Park, Fla., 2001, pp.  23–43, esp. p. 31, Fig. 11. 15. Mâle, L’Art religieux, p.  255. The legend of Augustus and the Tiburtine Sibyl developed over a long period of time, and is told in a sermon of Innocent III (Patrologia Latina, CCXVII, 457–58), in the Legenda aurea and the Speculum humanae salvationis, as well as in the Mirabilia (VIII and XIII). Aside from the classic study by A. Graf, Roma nel memoria del Medioevo, Turin, 1882, see further M. Guarducci, “Ara Celi,” Atti della Pontificia Accademia Romana di Archaeologia, series 3, Rendiconti 23–24, 1947–49, pp.  277–90. Already in the twelfth century the Tiburtine sibyl’s prophecy had become confused in the Mirabilia with the Erythraean sibyl’s Iudicii signum from the Pseudo-­Augustine’s Sermo contra Judaeos. 16. For the text, see note 13 above. 17. Maurice Hélin, “Un texte inédit sur l’iconographie des Sibylles,” Revue Belge de Philologie et d’Histoire 15 (1936): 349–66. 18. Ibid., p. 349. However, Cardinal Orsini’s scholars did follow Lactantius for the most part in listing the sibyls’ pedigrees and the names of the ancient authors who had written about them, as can be seen by comparing the manuscript de­scrip­tions of the Orsini sibyls (see appendix) with the list of sibyls given in the Divinae instiutiones. H. W. Parke, Sibyls and Sibylline Prophecies in Classical Antiquity, ed. B. C. McGing (London, 1988), points out that Varro’s list was arranged chronologically, from the earliest sibyl to the latest. They are listed in Divinae institutions, I, vi, 6–17. The ancient texts consulted by Varro for the most part have not survived. For con­ve­nience of reference, I repeat the list here, as translated by Parke, pp. 30–31:

1) The first was from the Persians, of whom Nicanor, who wrote of the deeds of Alexander of Macedon, made mention.

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Notes to Pages 130–131











2) The second was the Libyan, whom Euripides mentioned in Lamia’s prologue. 3) The third was the Delphian, about whom Chrysippus speaks in the book which he put together on divination. 4) The fourth was the Cimmerian in Italy, whom Naevius names in his book on the Punic War and Piso in his Annals. 5) The fifth was the Erythraean, of whom Apollodorus of Erythrae asserts that she was his fellow citizen and that she prophesied to the Greeks, when they made their way to Ilion, that Troy would fall and Homer would write falsehoods. 6) The sixth was the Samian, concerning whom Eratosthenes writes that he had discovered her in the ancient annals of the Samians. 7) The seventh was the Cumaean, by name Amalthea, who by others is called Herophile or Demophile. She brought nine books to Tarquinius Priscus. 8) The eighth was the Hellespontine, born in the territory of Troy at the village of Marpessus near the town of Gergithus, of whom Heraclides of Pontus writes that she lived at the time of Solon and Cyrus. 9) The ninth was the Phrygian, who prophesied at Ancyra. 10) The tenth was the Tiburtine, by name Albunea, who is worshiped at Tibur as a goddess by the banks of the river Anio, in whose eddy it is said an image of her was found holding a book, and her lots were removed to the Capitol by the Senate.

19. See in particular the classic study by Charles Trinkaus, In Our Image and Likeness: Humanity and Divinity in Ital­ian Humanist Thought (Chicago, 1970); J. W. O’Malley, Praise and Blame in Renaissance Rome: Rhetoric, Doctrine, and Reform in the Sacred Orators of the Papal

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Notes to Pages 131–132 Court c. 1450–1521 (Durham, NC, 1979), esp. chap. 4; and S.  I Camporeale, “Renaissance Humanism and the Origins of Humanist Theology,” in Humanity and Divinity in Renaissance and Reformation: Essays in Honor of Charles Trinkaus, ed. J. W. O’Malley, T. M. Izbicki, and G. Christianson (Leiden, 1993), pp. 101–24. 20. For Cardinal Orsini’s life and career, see E. König, Kardinal Giordano Orsini †1438: Ein Lebensbild aus der Zeit der grossen Konzilien und des Humanismus (Studien und Darstellungen aus dem Gebiete der Geschichte, 5, part 1; Freiburg im Breisgau, 1906). 21. The bibliography on the sibyls is excellent, and excellently summarized by Gagliardo, “Le Sibille nel giardino” and “Una rac­ colta di ‘scripta.’ ” Hélin, “Un texte inédit,” is indispensable, as is C.  de Clerq, “Quelques séries italiennes de Sibylles,” Bulletin de l’Institut historique belge de Rome, 48–49 (1978–79): 105–27. See also M. Gagliardo, “Le Sibille di Giovanni Romei,” in Le Sibille di Casa Romei, ed. D. Di Francesco (Ravenna, 1998), pp. 21–46; Gagliardo, “Il verziere nella cappella: Le Sibille quattrocentesche del Palazzo Vescovile di Albenga,” in Scritti di storia dell’arte in onore di Sylvie Béguin, ed. M. Di Giampaolo and E. Saccomani (Naples, 2001), pp. 53–67; Salvatore Settis, “Le Sibille di Cortina,” in Renaissance Studies in Honor of Craig Hugh Smyth, ed. F. Superbi (Florence, 1985), 2:437–57; Salvatore Settis, “Sibilla Agrippa,” Études de Lettres: Revue de la Faculté des Lettres de l’Université de Lausanne 4 (1985): 89– 116; C. de Clerq, “Les Sibilles dans les livres des XV et XVI siècles en France,” Gutenberg Jahrbuch (1979): 98–119; C. de Clerq, “Contribution à l’iconographie des Sibylles,” Jaarboek van het Koninlijk Museum voor Schoene Kunsten (1979): 7–35; and C. de Clerq, “Quelques séries de Sibilles hors d’Italie,” Bulletin de l’Institut historique belge de Rome 51 (1981): 87–116. 22. Mâle, L’Art religieux, pp.  255–56. For the verses with the twelve sibyls and their prophecies in the Valenciennes play, see Baron J. de Rothschild, Le mistére du Viel Testament (Paris, 1878–1891), VI,

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Notes to Pages 132–133 pp. lxviii–lxxvi. To take but one example of the de­pen­dence of the sibyls in the Valenciennes play on the Orsini series and on Belcari’s verses, compare the Tiburtine sibyl’s de­scrip­tion and verses with the entry on the Tiburtine sibyl in the appendix of this book. “Elle doibt ester rouge vestue, ayant autour du col, ou sups, une peau hircine estendue sups des espaules, ayant ses che­ veux descouvers, et tenant ung brief en sa main, escript: Nascetur Christus in Bethleem.” Her prophecy is as follows: Et moy, la douziesme, nommé Tiburtine, rouge enflammé, Tenant ce briefvet en ma main, Je dis que cest comme homme humain Sera vut en Bethleem né Au temps, lequel n’est pas finé, Que la fundateur pacifique De paix rengnera magnifique. Mamelles benites seront Quy tel enfant alaicteront. 23. A persistent error in the literature claims that the latter was first performed in honor of Isabeau of Bavaria upon her entry into France in 1385; Baron Jean de Rothschild proved in the late nineteenth century that it was composed at least a century later by an anonymous poet who dedicated his work to Louise of Savoy, the mother of Francis I. See Rothschild, Le mistére du Viel Testament, VI, pp. lxiii–lxix and pp.  215–29. Rothschild found the dedication in a manuscript containing the Mystery of Octavian and the Sibyl (Bib. Nat., ms franc. 2362), to which the verses spoken by the twelve sibyls, composed by an anonymous author, had been appended, “dans une sorte de mystère composé, ou plutôt arrangé par lui” and dedicated by that author to Louise of Savoy. This extremely im­por­tant notice has been overlooked by recent

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Note to Page 133 scholars, who have been led astray by an untraceable note made by a reader of the second edition of the Mystére du Viel Testament (Paris, ca. 1520; first published ca. 1498), and subsequently recorded in the Histoire universelle des théâtres de toutes les nations (Paris, 1780), 11:68. The note claims that the sibyls’ prophecies had been performed for the ceremonial entry of Isabeau of Bavaria into France at the time of her marriage to Charles VI, an event that occurred in 1385. See Creighton Gilbert, “The Proportion of Women,” in his Michelangelo and the Sistine Ceiling: Selected Essays (New York, 1994), pp.  59–113, esp. pp.  69 and 107–108; and S. Poeschel, Alexander Maximus: Das Bildprogramme des Appartamento Borgia im Vatikan (Weimar, 1999), pp. 222–23. However, the marriage was famously unattended by pomp of any kind, the seventeen-­year-­old king having been so attracted to Isabeau physically (she spoke no French) when he met her under conditions of the highest secrecy on 14 July 1385 that he insisted they marry at once, for his excitement was so great he could not sleep. The marriage occurred three days later, with no contract or dowry of any kind, a circumstance so extraordinary it has been interpreted as an early symptom of the king’s later mental and psychological breakdown. See M. Thibault, Isabeau de Bavière, reine de France: la jeunesse (1370–1405) (Paris, 1903), pp. 56–57, and R. C. Famiglietti, Royal Intrigue: Crisis at the Court of Charles VI, 1392–1440, pp. 14–15. In fact the claim that the Mystery of Octavian and the Sibyl was performed at this time is clearly a confusion on the anonymous reader’s part, and is confuted not only by the evidence of the manuscript containing the dedication to Louise of Savoy by the author of the French verses (which beyond doubt are founded on Barbieri’s 1481 publication of the Latin de­scrip­ tions and their prophecies, as well as Belcari’s verses of the early 1450s setting those prophecies to verse), but also by Poggio Bracciolini’s testimony, based on firsthand knowledge, that the Cardi-

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Notes to Pages 133–134 nal’s learned humanists had invented the new canon of twelve (not ten) sibyls. 24. Gilbert, “The Proportion of Women,” has capably outlined the post-­Barbieri tradition of the sibyls in Italy. Also im­por­tant is E. Dotson’s pioneering article, “An Augustinian Interpretation of Michelangelo’s Sistine Ceiling, Part II,” Art Bulletin 61 (1979): 405–29. Pinturicchio’s frescoes of the twelve sibyls and twelve prophets in the Borgia Apartment in the Vatican are the most extended and consistently faithful to the scheme of the Orsini cycle as this was transmitted by Barbieri, and have been treated in exemplary fashion by Poeschel, Alexander Maximus, pp.  215–33. For the most part, depictions of the sibyls (omitting manuscript illuminations), like Ghirlandaio’s in the Sassetti Chapel in Sta. Trinita in Florence or Michelangelo’s in the Sistine Chapel, abbreviate their number and mix the Lactantian and Orsinian traditions indiscriminately. A spectacular example is provided by the Siena pavements in the Duomo, which unsystematically combine Orsini’s epigrams with prophecies taken from Lactantius as transmitted by Augustine; for which, see R. H. H. Cust, The Pavement Masters of Siena (1369–1562) (London, 1901); and, most recently, the excellent study by M. Caciorgna and R. Guerrini, Il pavimento del Duomo di Siena: L’Arte della tarsia marmoreal dal XV al XIX secolo (Banca Monte dei Paschi di Siena Spa, 2004). 25. Gagliardo, “Le Sibille nel giardino.” 26. Ibid., p. 19 (for the dating of the frescoes in Casa Romei), p. 27 (for Panizatto’s frescoes of the sibyls in Belriguardo), and p. 28 (for Guarino). For Guarino, also see Michael Baxandall, “Guarino, Pisanello, and Manuel Chrysoloras,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 28 (1965): 183–204. For the Muses at Bel­ fiore, see Le Muse e il Principe: Arte di corte nel Rinascimento padano (exhibition catalogue), ed. A. Mottola Molfino and M. Natale et al., Milan, 1991, I, pp. 379–443, and II, pp. 133–319: and see Ste-

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Notes to Pages 134–137 phen Campbell, Cosmé Tura of Ferrara: Style, Politics, and the Renaissance City (New Haven, CT, 1997), pp. 29–61. 27. Stanko Kokole, Agostino di Duccio in the Tempio Malatestiano 1449– 1457: Challenges of Poetic Invention and Fantasies of Personal Style (Ph.D. diss., Johns Hopkins University, 1997), I, pp. 349–91). 28. For the whole story, see König, Kardinal Giordano Orsini, pp. 82– 103. Also see R. Sabbadini’s La scuola e gli studi di Guarino Guarini Veronese (Catania, 1896), pp.  102–104; and, especially, his Storia e critica di testi latini: Cicero, Donato, Tacito, Celso, Plauto, Plinio, Quintiliano, Livio e Sallustio. Commedia ignota (Catania, 1914), pp. 327–52. Cardinal Orsini bought the manuscript and several others from Nicholas of Cusa (Nicolaus Treverensis), who brought it with him to Rome in December 1429. 29. Poggio Bracciolini, Lettere I: Lettere a Niccolò Niccoli, ed Helen Harth (Florence, 1984), p.  97. For the contents of the manuscript, see Poggio’s de­scrip­tions, pp. 78–79 and 102–105. 30. Sabbadini, Storia e critica di testi latini, p. 329, where he also quotes from Traversari’s letter of 8 July 1431 to Niccoli, giving a sense of the rage of the Florentines over the whole affair. 31. Sabbadini, La scuola e gli studi di Guarino Guarini Veronese and König, Kardinal Giordano Orsini, p. 95. Eugenius IV, who was of course a strong supporter of Cosimo de’ Medici and of Florence, had also intervened with the cardinal. 32. Matteo Palmieri, Della vita civile, ed. F. Battaglia (Bologna, 1944), p. 329. Palmieri was fond of quoting aphorisms from the Roman playwrights, especially Terence, and he himself had copied the plays of Plautus in a book he sold in 1429. See M. Palmieri, Ricordi fiscali (1427–1474), ed. E. Conti (Rome, 1983), p.  214: “­MCCCCXXVIIII. Richordo di certi libri venderò. E in prima, adì 13 di maggio, vende’ un Plauto, volume picholo, era di mia mano, choverto de b[iancho] chon assi avanzati. Ebbi lire 32, e a meza forza il vende’, perché me l’avea scritto. Chonperollo un ghancelliere del marchese di Ferrara.” It is likely that the manu-

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Notes to Pages 137–139 script contained only the eight plays by Plautus known before Cusanus’s discovery of the Orsini manuscript in Cologne, which in any event ­did not reach Florence until 1431. 33. König, Kardinal Giordano Orsini p. 73. 34. Feo Belcari, “Ricordanza che a dì 25 di marzo 1436, essendo la Domenica della Passione, si consacrò la magnifica Chiesa Cattedrale Fiorentino in questo modo,” in Lettere di Feo Belcari, ed. D. Moreni (Florence, 1825), pp. 59–63; translated in Images of Quattrocento Florence, ed. S. Ugo Baldassarri and A. Saiber (New Haven, CT, 2000), pp. 238–40. Cardinal Orsini had for a long time been well known and honored in Florence, for which see Pagolo di Matteo Petriboni e Matteo di Borgo Rinaldi, Priorista (1407–1459), ed. J.  A. Gutwirth (Rome, 2001); and “Diario fiorentino di Bartolommeo di Michele del Corazza, anni 1405–38),” Archivio storico italiano, series 5, no. 14 (1894): 233–98. 35. R. Sabbadini, “Il commento di Donato a Terenzio,” Studi italiani di filologia classica, II, 1894, pp. 1–134; and see Angelo Poliziano, La commedia antica e l’Andria di Terenzio: Appunti inediti, ed. R. Lattanzi Roselli (Florence, 1973), pp. xii–xiii. 36. Paola Ventrone, “La riproposta fiorentina del teatro classico,” in Le tems revient, ’l tempo si rinuova: Feste e spettacoli nella Firenze di Lorenzo il Magnifico (exhibition catalogue), Milan, 1992, pp. 221– 22; and see A. Staüble, La commedia umanistica del Quattrocento (Florence, 1968). 37. Richard Trexler, “The Episcopal Constitutions of Antoninus of Florence,” Quellen und Forschungen aus italienischen Archiven und Bibliotheken 59 (1979): 242–72, esp. 252 and 265. 38. Nerida Newbigin, “Rewriting John the Baptist: Building a History of the San Giovanni Edifici,” Spunti e ricerche 22 (2007):  5–27. For the edifici as litters carried by many men, see the de­scrip­tion by Agostino di Portico of the San Giovanni festival that took place sometime between 1451 and 1454, just before the Antonine reform, published by Daniela Delcorno Branca, “Un camaldolese

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Notes to Pages 139–140 alla festa di S. Giovanni: La pro­ces­sione del Battista descritta da Agostino di Portico,” Lettere italiane 55 (2003): 3–25: “. . . Di poi gli Umiliati co quagli era uno mirabile edifitio alto braccia vinti di grande ornamento, pieno di fanciulli vivi che parevano angeletti con l’ali e che cantavano e sonavano gig’e ciembali e volgevansi intorno come ballassero; e essendo tanto alti maravigliavami come non temevano. Di sopra questo edifitio era la testa di Sancto Rossore con molto ornato [undoubtedly Donatello’s famous reliquary bust then in the Umiliati church of the Ognissanti]. Questo edifitio era portato da sesanta huomini o più, tanto era grande e bello. Quando giunse dinanzi al palazzo [della Signoria] si fermò e quivi cantarono e sonorono.” 39. Trexler, Episcopal Constitutions, p. 265 (Item 32 of Antonino’s Episcopal Constitutions). 40. Newbigin (“Rewriting John the Baptist”) makes mention of Palmieri’s appointment as one of the festaiuoli for the reformed San Giovanni celebrations of 1454, and she has kindly shared with me her transcription of a denunciation made by the representatives of several churches who had felt unjustly excluded, naming as festaiuoli Matteo Palmieri, Giuliano Ridolfi, Giovanni Serristori, Giovanni Rustici, and the tradesman Francesco del Nero (ASF, Notarile Antecosminiano 6246, Ser Domenico di Francesco di Paolo, 26 Junij 1454, f. 430r). 41. Newbigin, “Rewriting John the Baptist”; and see Nuovo Corpus di Sacre Rappresentazioni fiorentine del Quattrocento edite e inedite tratte da manoscritti coevi o ricontrollate su di essi (Commissione per i Testi della Lingua, Vol. 139), ed. Nerida Newbigin (Bologna, 1983), p. xxxiii. 42. Lauro Martines, The Social World of the Florentine Humanists, 1390– 1460 (Prince­ton, NJ), 1963, pp. 192–93; and, for a detailed study of Palmieri’s po­lit­ic­ al and diplomatic career, see A. Messeri, “Matteo Palmieri cittadino di Firenze nel secolo XV,” Archivio storico italiano 13, 2 (1894): 257–340.

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Notes to Pages 140–141 43. Newbigin, Nuovo Corpus, pp. xxviii–xxx, gives a complete transcription of Palmieri’s famous de­scrip­tion. 44. V. De Bartholomaeis, ed., Laude drammatiche e rappresentazioni sacre (Bologna, 1943), 3:189–257. See also De Bartholomaeis, Le origini della poesia drammatica italiana (Bologna, 1924), pp. 486–94. 45. See, for example, the Tiburtine sibyl’s octave in De Bartholomaeis, Laude drammatiche, pp. 214–15 (and compare with Belcari’s verses for the Tiburtine sibyl in the appendix of this book, as well as to the Tiburtine sibyl’s verses in Le Mistére du Viel Testament, quoted in note 22 above): In Beteleem nascerà el Salvatore e in Nazaret sera annunciato sotto lo tempo d’un magno signore che Ottaviano lui sera chiamato; de tutto el mondo sia governatore quel Jesù Cristo Verbo incarnato; sera beata fra tutta la gente quella tal Vergene che’l portarà nel ventre. It is appropriate here to note another source of persistent confusion in the literature (see note 23), which is a manuscript in Córdoba containing a schoolboy’s translation of the prophecies of the sibyls. It was published by J. López Yepes, “Una ‘Represen­ tación de las Sibilas’ y un ‘Planctus Passionis en el MS. 80 de la catedral de Córdoba,” Revista Archivos Bibliotecas y Museos 80 (1977): pp.  545–67, who claimed that the manuscript dates to the late fourteenth or early fif­teenth century and rec­ords an ac­tual representation. This was refuted by F. Delgado, “Las profecias de Sibilas en el MS. 80 de la catedral de Córdoba y los origenes del teatro nacional,” Revista de Filologia española 67 (1987): 77–87, who observed that the text looks like an exercise in a student cuadernillo that was never intended for staging, being instead a translation into Catalan of the sibylline prophecies published by Bar-

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Notes to Page 141 bieri in 1481. This should have settled the matter. However, C. Stern argued in The Medieval Theater in Castile (Binghamton, NY, 1996) that MS 80 must be earlier than 1481 and faulted Delgado for failing to take into account the dramatization of the pro­ces­ sion of the sibyls in the Bolognese rappresentazione ciclica and the Parisian Mistére du Viel Testament. However, the sibyls’ prophecies in the Bolognese cyclical drama unquestionably were inspired by the octaves used in Belcari’s Annunciation play, as De Bartholomaeis pointed out, which in turn were derived from a manuscript containing a de­scrip­tion of the Orsini paintings, and these almost certainly were first given theatrical performance in the Florentine San Giovanni celebrations of 1454. And the verses of the Mistére postdate Barbieri’s publication and take as their point of departure his transcription of the Orsini epigrams. They were, moreover, written in full awareness of the versification earlier given them in Ital­ian sacred drama. The prophecies in Córdoba 80 are without doubt translations of the Orsini epigrams, which they cannot antedate. They do not rec­ord an ac­tual performance. 46. Newbigin, Nuovo Corpus, pp. xxviii–xxx: Per san Giovanni 1454 si mutò forma di festa la quale era usata a farsi a dì 22 la mostra; a dì 23 la mattina la pro­ces­sione di compagnie, frati, preti, e edifici; la sera l’offerte de’ gonfaloni; e poi il dì di san Giovanni la mattina l’offerte e el dì el palio. E riordinossi in questo modo: cioè che a dì 21 si fece la mostra. A dì 22 la mattina la pro­ces­sione di tutti gli edifici, e quali detto anno furono e andarono come appresso diro: . . . 8) Più profeti e sibille con Ermes Trismegisto ed altri profetezatori della incarnazione di Cristo; 9) L’edifizio della Nunziata, che fe’ la sua rapresentazione; 10) Ottaviano imperadore con molta cavelleria e colla Sibilla, per fare rapresentazione, quando la Sibilla gli predisse dovea nascere Cristo e mostrogli la Vergine

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Notes to Pages 141–144 in aria con Cristo in braccio; 11) Templum pacis coll’edificio della natività per fare la sua rapresentazione. . . . It is highly sig­nifi­cant that Agostino di Portico, describing the San Giovanni celebrations of two or three years earlier, makes no mention of sibyls, though he does mention an edificio with the Annunciation sponsored by the Camaldolites of San Felice in Piazza preceded by “David propheta a cavallo con molti propheti.” See Delcorno Branca, “Un camaldolese alla festa di S. Giovanni,” p. 10. 47. Libro del Poema chiamato Città di Vita composto da Matteo Palmieri fiorentino, ed. M. Rooke, in Smith College Studies in Modern Languages, VIII–IX, 1927–28, bk. 3, chap. xxvi, terzinas 26–48. For the posthumous condemnation of the poem in the context of the attempt by Ficino (who called Palmieri poeta theologicus) and especially Pico della Mirandola to recover the doctrinally suspect Origen as a father of the Church, see the exemplary study by Edgar Wind, “The Revival of Origen,” in The Eloquence of Symbols: Studies in Humanist Art, ed. J. Anderson (Oxford, 1993), pp. 42–55. At his funeral in Santa Maria Maggiore, Palmieri’s body was displayed holding a manuscript of the Città di vita that had been illuminated by Francesco Botticini, who painted the Coronation of the Virgin for the Palmieri Chapel in that church, which certainly incorporates Palmieri’s ideas. See M. Davies, National Gallery Catalogues: The Earlier Ital­ian Schools, 2nd ed. (London, 1961), pp. 122– 27; and, most recently, L. Venturini, Francesco Botticini (Florence, 1994), pp. 57–60, and cat. 35, pp. 112–13. 48. Nerida Newbigin, Feste d’Oltrarno: Plays in Churches in Fifteenth-­ Century Florence (Istituto Nazionale di Studi sul Rinascimento, Studi e Testi XXXVII), Florence, 1996, I, pp. 36–43. 49. Alison Wright, “A Portrait for the Visit of Galeazzo Maria Sforza to Florence in 1471,” in Lorenzo the Magnificent: Culture and Politics,

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Notes to Pages 144–147 ed. M. Mallet and N. Mann (London, 1996), pp.  65–92. The portrait is cited in an inventory of the Medici Palace drawn up at the time of the death of Lorenzo the Magnificent (“uno quadro dipintavi la testa del duca Galeazzo, di mano di Piero del Pollaiuolo”), for which, see Libro d’inventario di beni di Lorenzo il Magnifico, ed. M. Spallanzani and G. Gaeta Bertelà (Florence, 1992), p. 12; and see A. Galli, “Risarcimento di Piero del Pollaiuolo,” Prospettiva 109 (2003): 27–58. 50. Machiavelli, Istorie fiorentine, VI, xxviii. 51. Charles Dempsey, Inventing the Renaissance Putto (Bettie Allison Rand Lectures in Art History, the University of North Carolina), Chapel Hill, 1991, pp. 75–76. 52. See Terze rime in lode di Cosimo de’ Medici e de’ figli e dell’ honoranza fatta l’anno 1458 al figliuolo del Duca di Milano et al Papa nella loro venuta a Firenze, Firenze, Biblioteca Nazionale Centrale, MS Magliabechiano VII, 1121 (già Strozzi, series 4, no. 391, vv. 4600–4608). I am indebted for this reference to Nerida Newbigin, who is preparing an edition and translation of the poems: Fugli donato il dì cavagli e cani e mostrò da·cciascun grande effezzione e duol della partita di domani che sarà il dì della santa Ascensione di Gesucristo, però in quella sera gì a veder la representazione; la qual si celebrò sì pulcra e mera che dallo esemplo el ver variò sì poco, che testimone ne sia ciascun che v’ era. 53. Richard Trexler, Public Life in Renaissance Florence (Ithaca, NY, 1991), p. 423. 54. Ibid., pp.  423–25. See also Rab Hatfield, “The Compagnia de’Magi,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 33 (1970): 107–61; and Richard Trexler, “The Magi Enter Florence: The

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Notes to Pages 147–152 Ubriachi of Florence and Venice,” Studies in Medieval and Renaissance History, new series 1 (1978): 129–216. 55. In a letter of 18 December 1450, Cosimo’s wife, Contessina de’Bardi, wrote to their son Giovanni describing the semi-­exotic costume Cosimo intended to wear for the feast of the Magi: “una bella ciopa a la polacca di martore e zibellini e uno pajo di guanti e uno dente di pesce.” See Hatfield, “Compagnia de’Magi,” pp. 136–37 n. 142; and, for a more general discussion of Medici spectacle and costuming, E. Garbero Zorzi, “Lo spettacolo dei Medici,” in Il Palazzo Medici Riccardi di Firenze, ed. G. Cherubini and G. Fanelli (Florence, 1990), pp.  200–13. For Gozzoli’s frescoes, see Ahl, Benozzo Gozzoli, pp. 81–112; and for Botticelli’s Adoration of the Magi, Rab Hatfield, Botticelli’s Uffizi “Adoration”: A Study in Pictorial Content, (Prince­ton, NJ), 1976. 56. See A. Padoa Rizzo, “La Cappella della Compagnia di Santa Barbara alla ‘Nazione Tedesca’ alla Santissima Annunziata di Firenze nel secolo XV: Cosimo Rosselli e la sua ‘impresa’ artistica,” Antichità viva 26, 3 (1987): 3–18; and see Le tems revient (exhibition catalogue), cat. no. 1.7, pp. 145–46. 57. The oldest known sacre rappresentazioni are the Rappresentazione del dì del giudizio, written between 1444 and 1448 by Antonio di Matteo di Meglio and Feo Belcari, and Belcari’s Abramo e Isac, performed for the first time in 1449; see Nerida Newbigin, “Il testo e il contesto dell’ ‘Abramo e Isac’ di Feo Belcari,” Studi e prob­lemi di critica testuale 23 (1981): 13–37. The San Giovanni celebrations in 1454 concluded with a rappresentazione del Giudizio, which was without doubt a version of the Meglio-­Belcari play. 58. For this and what follows, see Dale Kent, Cosimo de’Medici and the Florentine Renaissance: The Patron’s Oeuvre (New Haven, CT, 2000), pp.  25, 46–50, 62–67. Also see Kent’s “The Buonomini di San Martino: Charity for ‘the glory of God, the honour of the city, and the commemoration of myself,’ ” in Cosimo ‘il Vecchio’ de’Medici, 1389–1464: Essays in Commemoration of the 600th Anniversary of

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Notes to Pages 152–156 ­ osimo de’Medici’s Birth, ed. Francis Ames-­Lewis (Oxford, 1992), C pp. 49–67. See also the entry on Belcari by M. Marti in Dizio­ nario biografico degli italiani. 59. See F. Pezzarossa, I poemetti sacri di Lucrezia Tornabuoni (Florence, 1978). 60. For this and the following, see Kent, Cosimo de’Medici, pp. 171–75; and Hood, Fra Angelico at San Marco, pp. 30–31. 61. Hood, Fra Angelico at San Marco, p. 29. 62. Kent, Cosimo de’Medici, p. 177. 63. Ahl, Benozzo Gozzoli, pp.  112–19, 224–25, and 277–78. See also Brera mai vista. Il colore di Benozzo Gozzoli: due predelle della Pinacoteca di Brera (Milan, 2003). 64. Gilberti Aranci has pointed out that “compagnie dei fanciulli” slightly mistranslates the Latin societates puerorum, since puer can designate an adolescent, whereas the Ital­ian fanciulli better renders the Latin parvuli, or “children.” The statutes for the companies designate thirteen as the minimum and twenty-­four as the maximum ages for membership. See La Chiesa e la Città a Firenze nel XV secolo (exhibition catalogue), ed. G. Rolfi, L. Segrebondi, and P. Viti, Milan, 1992, pp.  82–84; and Trexler, Episcopal Constitutions, p. 207. For Antonino and his promotion of the compagnie dei fanciulli, see C. C. Calzolai, Frate Antonino Pierozzi dei Domenicani Arcievescovo di Firenze (Rome, 1961); and R. Morçay, Saint Antonin Archéveque de Florence (1389–1459) (Paris, 1914). The classic study is Richard Trexler’s “Ritual in Florence: Adolescence and Salvation in the Renaissance,” in The Pursuit of Holiness in Late Medieval and Renaissance Religion (Studies in Medieval and Reformation Thought, Vol. 10), ed. C. Trinkaus and H. Oberman (Leiden, 1974), pp. 200–71. 65. Aranci, “La catechesi a Firenze nel XV secolo,” in La Chiesa e la Città, pp. 73–85. 66. Paola Ventrone, “Per una morfologia della sacra rappresentazione fiorentina,” in Teatro e culture delle rappresentazione: lo spettacolo in Ita-

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Notes to Pages 156–157 lia del Quattrocento, ed. R. Guarino (Bologna, 1988), pp.  195–225. See also Ventrone’s essay “La sacra rappresntazione fiorentina: aspetti e prob­lemi,” in Esperienze dello spettacolo religioso nell’Europa del Quattrocento (Atti del XVI convegno del Centro Studi sul teatro medioevale e rinascimentale, Roma, 12–21 giugno 1992), ed. M. Chiabò and F. Doglio (Rome, 1993), pp. 68–80; and Ventrone’s “Lorenzo’s ‘Politica festiva,’ ” in Mallet and Mann, Lorenzo the Magnificent, pp. 105–16. 67. Ventrone, “Per una morfologia,” p.  200. And see especially A. Limentani’s classic “Struttura e storia dell’ottava rima,” Lettere italiane 13 (1961): 20–77, esp. pp.  52–56 (for a discussion of the uses of ottava rima in the sacra rappresentazione). 68. For this and what follows, see G. Aranci in La Chiesa e la Città, cat. no. 4.9, pp. 82–84; and see K. Eisenbechler, The Boys of the Archangel Raphael: A Youth Confraternity in Florence, 1411–1785 (Toronto, 1998), p. 30. 69. The Purification Company, together with the considerable support it received from Cosimo de’ Medici, has in particular received much study. Aside from Ahl’s Benozzo Gozzoli, pp. 112–19, and cat. no. 26, pp. 224–26 (which sets Gozzoli’s Altarpiece of the Purification within the context of the Purification Company), see the articles by D. C. Ahl (“‘In corpo di compagnia’: Art and Devotion in the Compagnia della Purificazione e di San Zanobi of Florence”), and by A. Machette, “The Compagnia della Purificazione e di San Zanobi in Florence: A Reconstruction of Its Residence at San Marco, 1400–1506”) in Confraternities and the Visual Arts in Renaissance Italy: Ritual, Spectacle, Image, ed. B. Wisch and D. C. Ahl (Cambridge, 2000), pp. 46–73 and 74–101, respectively. It has also, naturally, received much attention from scholars of public spectacles and sacre rappresentazioni in Florence. Suffice it to mention Nerida Newbigin in Nuovo Corpus, pp. xiii–xiv and xix, and in “The Word Made Flesh: The Rappresentazioni of Mysteries and Miracles in Fifteenth-­Century Florence,” in Chris­tian­i­ty and

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Notes to Pages 157–160 the Renaissance: Image and Religious Imagination in the Quattrocento, ed. T. Verdon and J. Henderson (New York, 1990), pp. 361–75; and the articles by P. Ventrone (“Lorenzo’s Politico festiva”) and Newbigin (“Politics in the Sacre Rappresentazioni of Lorenzo de’Medici’s Florence”) in Lorenzo the Magnificent, ed. Mallet and Mann, pp.  105–16 and 117–29, respectively. For the Compagnia della Natività, also known as the Arcangelo Raffaello, see K. Eisenbechler, “The Acquisition of Art by a Florentine Youth Confraternity: The Case of the Archangelo Raffaello,” in Wisch and Ahl, Confraternities and the Visual Arts in Renaissance Italy, pp. 102–16; and Eisenbechler, Boys of the Archangel Raphael. 70. Trexler, “Adolescence and Salvation,” p. 223; and see Newbigin’s introduction to Nuovo Corpus, p. xxix. It is worth noting that Iacopo di Biagio, the guardian of the Compagnia di San Giovanni Evangelista, was, like Feo Belcari, one of the twelve Buonomini of San Martino, and was also partner with Franceso Ber­ linghieri in a Medici silk shop that provided vestments for Arch­bishop Antonino (Kent, “The Buonomini di San Martino,” p. 56). 71. Newbigin, Nuovo Corpus, p. xxxiii. 72. G. Vasari, Le vite de’ più eccellenti pittori, scultori ed architettori, ed. G. Milanesi (Florence, 1906), V, p. 395. 73. L. Melli, Maso Finiguerra: I disegni (Florence, 1995), with complete earlier bibliography, the most im­por­tant contributions being ­Doris Carl, “Documenti inediti su Maso Finiguerra e la sua famiglia,” Annali della Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa 13, 2 (1983): 507–44; and M. Haines, La Sagrestia delle Messe del Duomo di Firenze (Florence, 1983). Baldinucci also highly praises Finiguerra as a draftsman. 74. For the Battle of the Nude Men, see S.  R. Langdale, Battle of the Nudes: Pollaiuolo’s Renaissance Masterpiece (exhibition catalogue), Cleveland Museum of Art, 2002.

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Notes to Page 161 75. See, for example, Melli, Maso Finiguerra: I disegni, plate 2 (A Nude Youth Leaning on a Staff), and figs. 55, 65, 79 (David with the Head of Goliath), pp.  119–22. Finiguerra’s depiction of hands are also closely comparable to Pollaiuolo’s. Cellini gave the highest praise to Finiguerra’s skill as a niellist, claiming that in this he availed himself of Pollaiuolo’s drawings (I Trattati dell’Oreficaria e della Scultura di Benvenuto Cellini, ed. G. Milanesi [Florence, 1857], p. 7). Melli disputes this claim, which, however, does not evince an attempt to downgrade Finiguerra so much as it does his critical acuity in discerning Pollaiuolo’s clear in­flu­ence on his drawing style. 76. For the quotation, see Vasari, Le vite de’ più eccellenti pittori, V, p. 395. Colvin, Florentine Picture Chronicle, is excellent on the question of the relationship of the drawings of the Florentine Picture Chronicle to Finguerra’s drawings and Baldini’s engravings, save only for the fact that he misinterprets his own beautifully observed and marshaled evidence by banishing Baldini to oblivion and misat­ trib­utes the chronicle (and by implication the engravings) to Finiguerra. For the question of Baldini, the following are indispensable: A. M. Hind, Early Ital­ian Engraving: A Critical Catalogue with Complete Reproduction of All the Prints Described (London, 1938– 48), I, pp. 1–18; and, for the series of prophets and sibyls, pp. 153– 86 (C. I–IV); K. Oberhuber, “Baccio Baldini,” in J. A. Levenson, K. Oberhuber, and J. L. Sheehan, Early Ital­ian Engravings from the National Gallery of Art (Washington, DC, 1973), pp. 13–39; and M. Zucker, Early Ital­ian Masters, in The Illustrated Bartsch (University Park, PA), Vol. 24, Commentary, pt. 2, 1971, pp. 89–93; and for the prophets and sibyls, ibid., pp. 159–218. Baldini’s authorship, which now has broad acceptance, is treated as essentially closed by D. Landau and P. Parshall, The Renaissance Print 1470–1550 (New Haven, CT, 1994), p.  67 and passim. A dissenter, however, is P. Keller, “The Engravings in the 1481 Edition of the Divine Comedy,” in Hein.-­Th. Schulze-­Altcappenberg, Sandro Botticelli: The

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Notes to Pages 161–162 Drawings for Dante’s Divine Comedy (exhibition catalogue), London, 2001, pp. 326–33 (reviewed and challenged on this point by M. Zucker in Master Drawings, Vol. 19, 2002, pp. 81–82. 77. A. Capitanio, “Scultura preziosa: Il Quattrocento orafo a Firenze,” in Arti fiorentine: La grande storia dell’Artigianato, II, Il Quattrocento, ed. F. Franceschi and G. Fossi (Florence, 1999), pp. 251–75, n. 9, citing Sophie Bonetti, Oreficeria sacra italiana del XV secolo al Metropolitan Museum of Art (tesi di laurea, University of Florence, written under the supervision of D. Liscia Bemporad, 1996–97), pp. 84– 92. The letters “BB” were first pointed out and interpreted as Baldini’s mark by J. Goldsmith Phillips, Early Florentine Designers and Engravers: Maso Finiguerra, Baccio Baldini, Antonio Pollaiuolo, Francesco Rosselli: A Comparative Analysis of Early Florentine Nielli, Intarsias, Drawings, and Copperplate Engravings (Cambridge, 1955), pp.  20–21. Phillips’s observation, however, has for a long time been regarded with suspicion, including by Oberhuber (“Baccio Baldini,” p. 20) because of the many confusions he introduced in going on to at­trib­ute various engravings. The suspicion has also been repeated in the invaluable catalogue of goldsmith work in the Bargello by G. Agosti and A. Capitanio, Sacra oreficeria italiana, Museo Nazionale del Bargello, Florence, n.d., no. 44, pp. 158–61 (but has now been put aside by Capitanio in the article cited above); and repeated again by E. Fahy, “Two Suggestions for Verrocchio,” in Studi in onore di Mina Gregori (Milan, 1994), pp. 51–55. 78. K. Oberhuber, “Letter: A Niello Plaque in Washington,” Burlington Magazine 67 (1975): 672. See also his “Vasari e il mito di Maso Finiguerra,” in Il Vasari storiografo e artista: Atti del Congresso In­ ternazionale. Arezzo-­Firenze 2–8 settembre 1974 (Florence, 1976), pp. 383–93; and the excellent entry on the Bargello pax by Agosti and Capitanio in Sacra oreficeria italiana, p. 159. (As an aside, part of Agosti and Capitanio’s skepticism regarding the “BB” inscription on the plaque of the Last Supper for the Crucifix in New York derives from Milanesi’s fanciful suggestion that the letter

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Notes to Pages 162–168 “G” is inscribed on the armor of a soldier standing at the right of a scene of the Crucifixion portrayed on the Bargello pax. However, it is clear that this putative “G” is to be read as the decoration of the nipple of the soldier’s armor, whereas the “BB” is truly an inscription, with no descriptive function.) 79. E. Mâle, “Une in­flu­ence des Mystères sur l’art italien du XVe siècle,” Gazette des Beaux-­arts, 3e période, 35 (1906): 89–94. 80. Ibid. 81. The series was also crudely copied by an uniden­ti­fied engraver late in the fif­teenth century, for which see Zucker, Early Ital­ian Masters, pp. 89–94. 82. D. Landau, “Printmaking in the Age of Lorenzo,” in Florentine Drawings at the Time of Lorenzo the Magnificent (Papers from a Symposium Held at the Villa Spelman, Florence, 1992), ed. E. Cropper (Villa Spelman Colloquia, Vol 4), pp.  175–80. See further Landau and Parshall, Renaissance Print 1470–1550, pp. 72–73, for the suggestion that Rosselli first became aware of the true engraver’s burin during his sojourn in Hungary and northern Europe. 83. See Phillips, Early Florentine Designers, plates 10 and 11, for Pollaiuolo’s Moses and Finiguerra’s niello print of the enthroned Madonna; and, for Salì’s enamel and Pollaiuolo’s St. Gregory for the Florence Baptistry Crucifix, see L. Melli, “Antonio del Pollaiuolo orafo e la sua bottega ‘magnifica e onorata’ in Mercato Nuovo,” Prospettiva 109 (2003): 65–75, figs. 7 and 8. 84. H. Horne, Alessandro Filipepi, commonly called Sandro Botticelli, Painter of Florence (London, 1908), p. 15; and see R. Salvini, All the Paintings of Botticelli (Norwich, CT, 1965), Vol. 1, no. 20, pp. 40–41; and R. Lightbown, Sandro Botticelli: Life and Work with a Complete Catalogue (London, 1978), II, p. 24, cat. B10. 85. J. Byam Shaw, Paintings by the Old Masters at Christ Church Oxford, London, 1967, cats. 35 and 36, pp. 49–50. See also, and for better photographs taken after badly needed conservation, B. Nichol-

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Notes to Pages 168–171 son’s editorial in the Burlington Magazine 56 (1964): 201–02. The attribution of the first panel to Botticelli was suggested by Nicholas Penny in P. L. Rubin and A. Wright, Renaissance Florence: The Art of the 1470s (exhibition catalogue), London, 1999, cat. 68, p.  290, and followed by P. Zamboni and J.  K. Nelson, Filippino Lippi (Milan, 2004), pp. 114–23, and cat. 4A, p. 308. The second panel has been universally acknowledged as by Filippino Lippi, for which see ibid., cat. 4B, pp. 308–309. 86. Gilbert, “The Proportion of Women,” pp. 77 and 109 n. 34. Gilbert has iden­ti­fied the sources of the prophecies rec­orded on the Christ Church panels in the Divinae institutions. They are also recorded in Zamboni and Nelson, Filippino Lippi. 87. For the Mazziere brothers, see, in particular, A. Padoa Rizzo’s “Agnolo di Donnino: nuovi documenti, le fonti e la possible identificazione con il ‘Maestro di Santo Spirito,’ ” Rivista d’Arte 40 (1988): 125–68, and her “Indagine sulle botteghe di pittura del ’400 in Toscana. Il Maestro di Santo Spirito e i Del Mazziere: una conferma,” Erba d’Arno 46 (1991): 54–63; E. Capretti, Il complesso di Santo Spirito (Florence, 1991); and C. Monbieg-­Goguel, “Apropos des desseins du Maître de Santo Spirito’ (Agnolo et/ ou Donnino del Mazziere),” in Florentine Drawing at the Time of Lorenzo the Magnificent (Papers from a Colloquium held at the Villa Spelman, Florence, 1992), ed. E. Cropper, n.d. (but 1994), pp. 11– 29. For the iden­ti­fic­ a­tion of the Master of the Johnson Nativity, see two essays by A. Bernacchioni: “Commitenti sanminiatesi nell’attività di Domenico di Michelino: I Borromei e i Chellini,” Bolletino dell’ Academia degli Euteleti di San Miniato 57: 95–110; and “Documenti e precisioni sull’attività tarda di Domenico di Michelino: la sua bottega di via delle Terme,” Antichità viva 29, 6: 5–14. Also see Maestri e botteghe: Pittura a Firenze alla fine del Quattrocento (exhibition catalogue), Milan, 1992, pp.  153–58. For the Master of the Castello Nativity, see the iden­ti­fi­ca­tion proposed by C. Lachi, Il Maestro della Natività di Castello (Florence, 1995), esp. pp. 22–28.

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Notes to Pages 172–174 88. E. H. Gombrich, “Apollonio di Giovanni: A Florentine Cassone Workshop seen through the eyes of a Humanist Poet,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 8 (1955): 16–34; see further E. Callman, Apollonio di Giovanni (Oxford, 1974); A. Garzelli, La miniatura fiorentina del Rinascimento 1440–1525: un primo censimento (Florence, 1985), pp.  41–49; and the entry on the Riccardiana Virgil by G. Lazzi, in Le tems revient. ‘l tempo si rinuova: Feste e spettacoli nella Firenze di Lorenzo il Magnifico (exhibition catalogue), ed. P. Ventrone, Milan, 1992, no. 2.2, pp. 150–51. 89. Lazzi, ibid. 90. Bellosi’s discovery was first modestly announced in the catalogue Mostra d’arte sacra nella diocesi di San Miniato, San Miniato, 1969, pp.  56–57. See now Il fratello di Masaccio: Giovanni di ser Giovanni detto lo Scheggia (exhibition catalogue), ed. L. Cavazzini, San Giovanni Valdarno, 1999; and especially L. Bellosi and M. Haines, Lo Scheggia (Florence, 1999). 91. Bellosi and Haines, Lo Scheggia, p. 75. See also L. Bellosi and M. Folchi, Collección Cambó (Barcelona, 1990), pp. 159–70. 92. Bellosi and Haines, Lo Scheggia, p.  69, and R. Bartoli, Biagio d’Antonio (Milan, 1999), pp. 23, 150–54, 185–86, and 235. 93. For the Corsini Gallery Allegory, see M. Levey and G. Mandel, The Complete Paintings of Botticelli (New York, 1967), no. 133, p. 106. For the Sassetti Chapel, J. K. Cadogan, Domenico Ghirlandaio, Artist and Artisan (New Haven, CT, 2000), no. 16, pp. 230–36. There are four sibyls shown by Ghirlandaio, of whom three are identifiable by inscriptions on their scrolls as the sibyl Agrippa and the Erythraean and Cumaean sibyls. The fourth is unknown, though tentatively iden­ti­fied as the Cimmerian sibyl (following a suggestion tentatively put forward by Borsook and Offerhaus). In addition, Ghirlandaio painted Augustus and the Tiburtine sibyl above the entrance arch of the Sassetti Chapel. 94. See the following essays by Max Lehrs: “Schrift, Druck, graph­ isches Kunst. Die erst Jahrespublikation der Internationalen Chal­ cographischen Gesellschaft,” Repertorium für bildenden Kunst 10

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Notes to Pages 174–189 (1887): 95–103; “Die Publikationen der Internationalen Chalco­ graphischen Gesellschaft und der Reichsdruckerei,” Zeitschrift für bildenden Kunst, n.f. I, 1890, pp. 324–28; and “Italienische Kopien nach Deutschen Kupferstichen des XV. Jahrhunderts,” Jahrbuch der Königlich Preussischen Kunstsammlungen 12 (1891): 125–36 (and see esp. p. 126, citing Mariette’s notice in his Abecedario, I, p. 55, that Baldini’s prophets Amos and Malachi were “plagiarized” from ES’s apostles Paul and Judas Thaddeus). See, further, A. M. Hind, “Italienische Stiche des XV. Jahrhunderts nach nordischen Originalen,” Mitteilungen der Gesellschaft für viervielfältigende Kunst, 1908, pp. 1–4; Horne, Alessandro Filipepi, pp. 79–80; Hind, Early Ital­ian Engraving, 1:156–57; A. Shestack, Master E.S.: Five Hundredth Anniversary Exhibition (exhibition catalogue), Philadelphia Museum of Art, Philadelphia, 1968, nos. 45–49 (unpaginated); J. Levenson et al., Early Ital­ian Engravings, pp.  22–27; and, for an exceptionally judicious comment, Zucker, Illustrated Bartsch, XXIV, pp. 161–63. 95. For these and the following comparisons, see the excellent reproductions of Master ES’s engravings in M. Geisberg, Die Kupferstiche des Meisters E. S. (Berlin, 1924). For the standard iden­ti­fi­ca­ tion numbers cataloguing each engraving, see M. Lehrs, Geschichte und kritischer Katalog des Deutschen, Niederländischen und Franzöischen Kupferstichs im XV. Jahrhundert (Vienna, 1910). 96. For Schongauer, see Le beau Martin: Gravures et dessins de Martin Schongauer (vers 1450–1491), exhibition catalogue, ed. P. Béguerie, Musée d’Unterlinden, Colman, 1991; and see cat. G90 for the Christ Before Pilate. Baldini’s copying of Schongauer’s engraving for his Prophet Daniel, which must have been one of the very last he executed, raises mild perplexities, since the Christ Before Pilate is conventionally dated to 1475–80 (see Martin Schongauer: Das Kupferstichwerk, exhibition catalogue, ed. T. Falk and T. Hirte, Munich, 1991, pp.  78–80). However, as Oberhuber pointed out (in Levenson, Early Ital­ian Engravings), the question is open, and scholars of Schongauer might wish to reconsider the question of

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Notes to Pages 190–196 date. In any event, a date of 1475 is not inconsistent with the completion of Baldini’s ambitious series of thirty-­six engravings. 97. See Pollaiuolo’s profile portraits of various ladies in the Poldi-­ Pezzoli Museum in Milan and in the Gemäldegalerie in Berlin; and see Virtue and Beauty: Leonardo’s Ginevra de’ Benci and Renaissance Portraits of Women (exhibition catalogue), National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC, ed. D. A. Brown, no. 24, pp. 169–71. 98. For Botticelli’s rendering of quasi-­theatrical costumes, see C. Dempsey, The Portrayal of Love: Botticelli’s Primavera and Humanist Culture at the Time of Lorenzo the Magnificent (Prince­ton, NJ), 1992, pp. 65–73; and C. Dempsey, Inventing the Renaissance Putto, pp. 189– 218. 99. For the distinction between chains, collars, and necklaces (generally beads of pearls strung on a thread), see R. Lightbown, Medieval European Jewelry, with a Catalogue of the Collection in the Victoria and Albert Museum, Victoria and Albert Museum, London, 1992, pp. 235–92. 100. For the portrait, see From Van Eyck to Breughel: Early Netherlandish Painting in the Metropolitan Museum of Art (exhibition catalogue), ed. M. Ainsworth and K. Christiansen, New York, 1998, no. 27, pp. 162–65. 101. H. van der Velden, The Donor’s Image: Gerard Loyet and the Votive Portraits of Charles the Bold (Turnhout, Belgium, 2000), pp. 33–36. 102. Ibid., p.  34. See also Lightbown, Jewelry, p.  289. A very similar collar is also worn by Maria Maddalena’s sister, Maria Bonciani, wife of Pierantonio Bandini Baroncelli, whom she married in 1489 and with whom she is portrayed in a pair of paintings by the so-­called Master of the Baroncelli Portraits. See M. Gregori, Paintings in the Uffizi and Pitti Galleries, (Boston, 1994), nos. 92–93, p. 156. A similar collar is worn by one of the Queen of Sheba’s attendants in a painting by the Master of the St. Barbara Legend, who was active in Brussels. This is the Queen of Sheba Bringing Gifts to Solomon, of about the same date as the portrait of Margaret of

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Notes to Pages 196–210 York, and now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art; for which, see Ainsworth and K. Christiansen, Van Eyck to Brueghel, no. 13, p. 121. 103. Van der Velden, The Donor’s Image, p. 29. 104. For fenestrelle, see Dempsey, Portrayal of Love, p. 67. 105. For the document, see A. Warburg, The Renewal of Pagan Antiquity, ed. K.  W. Forster (The Getty Research Institute Publications Program), Los Angeles, 1999, pp. 381–82. 106. E. Panofsky, Renaissance and Renaissances in Western Art (London, 1964), pp. 43–44. 107. E. Garin, “L’ambiente del Poliziano,” in La cultura filosofica del rinascimento italiano (Florence, 1979), p. 354.

4.  Civic Ritual II: Reconstructing the Vernacular Octaves with the Prophecies of the Twelve Sibyls 1. For the meaning of forma, see S. Kokole, “Cognitio formarum and Agostino di Duccio’s Reliefs for the Chapel of the Planets in the Tempio Malatestiano,” in Quattrocento Adriatico: Fifteenth-­century Art of the Adriatic Rim (Villa Spelman Colloquia, 5), ed. C. Dempsey (Bologna, 1996), pp. 177–206. The citation in his title derives from Roberto Valturio’s De re militari, XII, xiii, in which Agostino di Duccio’s sculptures of the “holy fathers, the four virtues, the heavenly signs of the Zodiac, the movable stars, the Sibyls and the Muses” are praised, not only for their superb artifice but also for their cognitio formarum, which is attractive to men skilled in literary studies (literarum periti). As Kokole observes, in the Renaissance the concept of form “also encompassed the traditional practice of visualizing mythological themes by recourse to literary texts,” a point he notes was clearly understood by F. Saxl, Antike Götter in der Spätrenaissance: Ein Freskenzyklus und ein Discorso des Jacopo Zucchi (Studien der Bibliothek Warburg, 8; Leipzig, 1927), pp. 14–17.

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Notes to Page 210 2. M. Hélin, “Un texte inédit sur l’iconographie des Sibylles,” Revue Belge de Philologie et d’Histoire 15 (1936):349–66, is indispensable, as is M. Gagliardo, “Le Sibille nel giardino: Un ciclo di affreschi per Giovanni Romei a Ferrara,” Prospettiva 64 (1991): 28–37. See also C. de Clerq, “Quelques series italiennes des Sibylles,” Bulletin de l’Institut historique belge de Rome 48–49 (1978–79): 105–27. For further references, see chap. 3, note 21. 3. E. Mâle, L’Art religieux de la fin du Moyen Age, Paris, 1925 (1st ed. 1908), pp.  253–79. The section dealing with the sibyls derives from Mâle’s Ph.D. dissertation, Quomodo Sibyllas recentiores artifices repraesentaverint, Paris, 1899. 4. Ibid., p.  258. See also A. Cornagliotti, La passione di Revello, sacra rappresentazione quattrocentesca (Turin, Centro Studi Piemontesi, 1976), pp. xxxvii–xlii, for the parallel argument that the Belcarian octaves (as rec­orded in Baldini’s engravings) rely upon Barbieri’s compendium. In fact, the author of the sibylline octaves, Baldini, and Barbieri all derive from a manuscript de­scrip­tion of the sibyls painted for Cardinal Orsini. Barbieri’s miscellany of essays is titled Discordantiae nonnullae inter Eusebium, Hieronymum et Aurelium Augustinum and was reissued in 1482. I have used the Sibyllarum de Christo vaticina in the edition published by Jakob Kobel (in F. Barbieri, Discordantiae sanctorum doctorum Ieronymi et Augustini [Oppenheim, 1515]). Mâle also knew a manuscript in the Bibliothèque d’Arsenal (no. 243), which he thought contained a text more correct than the one published by Barbieri, and which he therefore used as a control in publishing the sibyls’ prophecies as rec­orded by Barbieri. It is certain, however, that this manuscript does not derive from Barbieri but instead is yet another copy of the de­ scrip­tion of the Orsini sibyls. 5. L. Freund, Studien zur Bildgeschichte der Sibyllen in der neueren Kunst, Ph.D. diss., Hamburg, 1936; and Hélin, “Un texte inédit.” Confusion about the de­pen­dence of Barbieri on the de­scrip­tion of the Orsini sibyls doubtless arises from the fact that he makes no ref-

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Notes to Pages 210–223 erence to the cycle of paintings itself, even while faithfully following the manuscripts in all other respects. See M. Gagliardo, “Il verziere nella cappella: Le Sibille quattrocentesche del Palazzo Vescovile di Albenga,” in Scritti di storia del l’arte in onore di Sylvie Béguin, ed. M. di Giampaolo and E. Saccomani (Naples, 2001), pp. 53–57. 6. Wood carvings of the prophets and sibyls located in church choir lofts be­comes a widely spread convention in fif­teenth-­century Germany, for which see W. Vöge, Jörg Syrlin der Ältere und seine Bildwerk (Berlin, 1950). 7. See E. König, Kardinal Giordano Orsini †1438: Ein Lebensbild aus der Zeit der grossen Konzilien und des Humanismus (Studien und Darstellungen aus dem Gebiete der Geschichte, 5, part 1), Freiburg im Breisgau, 1906. 8. For the numbering, see Zucker in The Illustrated Bartsch, Vol. 24, pt. 1, pp.  163–64: “For the Sibyls (.076–.087) only one state is known, complete with its marginal verses comparable in ev­ery way to state one of the Prophets. . . . All twelve items are numbered at the upper left.” The consecutive numbering of the ten sibyls follows Lactantius. The sibyl Europa then follows (no. 11), and the series ends with the sibyl Agrippa (no. 12). I have followed this sequence here and in the appendix. 9. N. Newbigin, Feste D’Oltrarno: Plays in Churches in Fifteenth-­century Florence (Istituto Nazionale di Studi sul Rinascimento, Studi e Testi 37), Florence, 1996, 1:42. For the play, see Sacre rappresenta­ zioni dei secoli XIV, XV, e XVI, ed. A. D’Ancona (Florence, 1872); and Sacre rappresentazioni del Quattrocento, ed. L. Banfi (Turin, 1963). 10. Newbigin, Feste D’Oltrarno, 2:239–53. 11. Ibid., 2:280. The Annunciation play at San Felice had also been revived for the festivities attending the earlier visit to Florence of Margaret of Austria in April 1553, at the time of her engagement

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Notes to Pages 210–228 to Duke Alessandro de’ Medici. It is mentioned in a manuscript titled Ragionamento di Niccolò Fabbrini et Giovanni dove si tratta delle feste e magnificenze fatte alla Duchessa del mese d’Aprile 1553, in which reference is made to the revival for this performance of the famous “ingegno brunelleschiano.” See A. M. Cummings, The Politicized Muse: Music for Court Festivals 1512–1537 (Prince­ton, NJ, 1992), pp. 141–47. 12. Daniela Delcorno Branca, “Un camaldolese alla festa di San Giovanni: La pro­ces­sione del Battista descritta da Agostino di Portico,” Lettere italiane, 55, 2003, p. 10. 13. N. Newbigin, Nuovo Corpus di Sacre Rappresentzioni fiorentine del Quattrocento (Commissione per i testi di lingua, Vol. 139), Bologna, 1983, p. xliii. 14. Newbigin, Feste D’Oltrarno, 1:137. See also N. Newbigin, “The Word Made Flesh: The Rappresentazioni of Mysteries and Miracles in Fifteenth-­century Florence,” in Chris­tian­i­ty and the Renaissance: Image and Religious Imagination in the Quattrocento, ed. T. Verdon and J. Henderson (Syracuse, NY, 1990), pp. 361–75. 15. Newbigin, Nuovo corpus, pp. 82–83. 16. Ibid., pp. 81–85. 17. Ibid., p. 81. For Pseudo-­Bonaventura and the early Mystery plays, see E. Mâle, “Le renouvellement de l’art par les ‘Mystères a la fin du Moyen Age (premier article),” Gazette des Beaux-­arts, 3e période, 31 (1904): 89–106. And for the Ordo Prophetarum, M. Sepet, Les Prophètes du Christ: Étude sur les origins du Théâtre au Moyen-­Age (Paris, 1878); K. Young, “Ordo Prophetarum,” Transactions of the Wisconsin Academy of Sciences, Arts, and Letters 20 (1921): 1–82; and K. Young, The Drama of the Medieval Church (Oxford, 1933), 2:125–71. 18. For the play, see Newbigin, Feste D’Oltrarno 2:239–52.; and for the Pseudo-­Bonaventura, see Meditations on the Life of Christ: An Illustrated Manuscript of the Fourteenth Century, Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale MS Ital. 115, ed. I. Ragusa and R. Green (Prince­ton, NJ), 1961,

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Notes to Pages 228–251 pp. 5–9. Mercy and Peace, created in the mind of God, debate with their also divinely conceived sisters, Truth and Justice, whether after five thousand years humankind should be forgiven the sin of Adam as divine mercy would dictate, or whether eternally condemned in accordance with the laws of perfect truth and justice. Each side swears that if the other prevails, they will themselves of necessity perish, despite being at­trib­utes of God. God breaks the dilemma by resolving to send Christ to die for human sins. Humans must still die for the sin of Adam, as truth and justice require, but in this way death itself will be conquered by divine mercy. Like so much else in the Meditationes, which in my opinion is the source for Belcari’s play, the debate of the virtues derives from St. Bernard. 19. The octave moreover finds a direct echo in a later play, La rap­ presentazione della natività di Christo, in which one of the Magi, in response to Herod’s furious questioning, explains that he has learned of the birth of a new king though the Erythraean sibyl’s prophecy. Dell’ eccelso quaggiù, dice Eritrea, Nascerà in terra, e di vergin ebrea. For the play, see Banfi, Sacre rappresentazioni, pp. 149–82. 20. Young, “Ordo Prophetarum,” p. 40. 21. Ibid., pp. 50–63, passim. 22. M.  B. McNamee, S.  J., Vested Angels: Eucharistic Allusions in Early Netherlandish Painting (Louvain, 1998), esp. pp. 136–37 for the Ordo Prophetarum. 23. As quoted by Newbigin, Feste D’Oltrarno, 1:4–5. 24. Newbigin, “The Word Made Flesh,” p. 365. 25. Virgil, Eclogues, IV, 4–10: Ultima Cumaei venit iam carminis aetas; magnus ab integro saeclorum nascitur ordo. Iam redit et Virgo, redeunt Saturnia regna;

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Notes to Pages 251–255 iam nova progenies caelo demittitur alto. Tu modo nascenti puero, quo ferrea primum desinet ac toto surget gens aurea mundo, casta, fave, Lucina, tuus iam regnat Apollo. 26. C. de Pizan, La cite des dames, part 2, 1. For the date of La cite des dames, see C. Cannon Willard, Christine de Pizan: Her Life and Works (New York, 1990), p. 135. 27. E. Garin, Lo Zodiaco della vita: la polemica sull’astrologia dal Trecento al Cinquecento (Universale Laterza 349; Rome, 1976), pp. 24–25. 28. Ibid., translating from Bacon’s Opus maius: “The philosophers have it that Jove in his conjunction with the other planets signifies religions and faith. And since there are six planets with which he can make a conjunction, they maintain that six are the principal religions that must exist in the world. . . . If Jove is in conjunction with Saturn, this signifies the sacred books, and this is Judaism, which is the most ancient of the religions [sectes], just as Saturn is the father of the planets. . . . If Jove is in conjunction with Mars, they say that this signifies the Chaldean law, which teaches the worship of fire. . . . If with the Sun, this signifies the Egyptian law, which desires the worship of the celestial regions, of which the Sun is the lord. If with Venus, they say that this signifies the law of the Saracens, which is completely voluptuous and venereal. . . . If with Mercury, the Mercurial law, which is Chris­tian­i­ty, . . . and fi­nally there will come the ultimate turmoil, the law of Luna, which is the sect of the Antichrist.” 29. P. Zambelli, The Speculum Astronomiae and Its Enigma (Dordrecht, 1992). 30. See S. Campbell, Cosmè Tura of Ferrara (New Haven, CT, 1997), pp. 144–51 and p. 191 for the citation of Thomas Bradwardine, De causa Dei, I, i, coroll. Pars 35 in connection with the imagery of Tura’s Madonna of the Zodiac in the Museo Correr, his Madonna and Child in the Accademia, and, in Campbell’s closely reasoned exe-

361

Notes to Pages 255–262 gesis, in the central panel of the Roverella Altarpiece, all of which are determined by the astrological prefiguration of Christ’s virgin birth in the first decan of Virgo. 31. De vetula, III, 611–20, as published in The Pseudo-­Ovidian De Vetula (Text, Introduction, and Notes by D. M. Robathan; Amsterdam, 1968), p. 131. Italics mine: Una quidam talis felice tempore nuper Caesaris Augusti fuit, anno bis duodeno A regni novitate sui, quae significavit Post annum sextum nasci debere prophetam Absque matris coitu de virgine, cuius habetur Typus, ubi plus Mercurii vis multiplicabitur, Cuius erit concors complexio primo future Secte; nam nusquam de signis sic dominatur Mercurius, sicut in signo virginis; illic Est huius domus . . . 32. A. Limentani, “Struttura e storia dell’ottava rima,” Lettere ita­ liane 13. 33. Hermann of Carinthia, De essentiis (A Critical Edition with Translation and Commentary by C. Burnett; Leiden, 1982), pp. 80–83: Hanc quidem Ihesu Christi historiam cum sancti patres amplissime describant, inter cetera quibus infidelium pertinaciam validissime confutant, egregium hoc praeteritum est, forsitan hactenus incognitum eis (nec enim, ut Poeta docet, omnia possumus omnes), quod ex Hermete et Astalio, Persarum astrologis, Abumaixar in astrologie tractatu inserit, a nobis in eodem libro in hec verba translatum: “Oritur,” inquit, “in primo Virginis decano, puella—in lingua eorum ‘seclios dar­ zama,’ quod, prout Arabes interpretantur, ‘adre nedefa,’ apud nos sig­nifi­cant ‘virgo munda’—supra solium auleatum, manu geminas aristas tenens, puerum nutriens et jure pascens in re-

362

Notes to Pages 262–263 gione cui nomen ‘Hebrea;’ puerum autem nominatum Ihesum.” Quem, opinor, ex haec lectione instructi, visa stella eius, et Magi cognoverunt. Unde praesertim Hebreorum cecitas hic arguitur, cum, etiam in nature speculatione seculorum serie, vel barbare nationi veritas Ihesu Christi praenotata fuerit. Planius quippe rem omnem vidit astrologus. Quam mirum quod prae­ ter naturam futurum videbat, effari potest! Quis enim vel ­dicenti crederet, vel af­firmantem non redarguet, si virginem parituram palam proferret? Equum tamen est quod dicit. Ius enim liquor carnis est; ius ergo quo infans pascitur, lac est, quo nulla feminarum umquam pascere potuit, nisi perperit. See also Hermann’s Introductorium Albumasaris, VI, 2: Virgo signum fertile, bipartum, triforme. Oritur in primo eius decano, ut Perse, Caldei et Egyptii, omniumque duorum Hermes et Ascalius a primeval etate docent, puella cui Persicum nomen ‘Secdeidos de darçama” (Arabice interpretatum, ‘Adre nedefa’)—id est, virgo munda, puella, dico, virgo immaculate; corpore decora, vultu venusta, habita modesta, crine prolixo, manu geminas aristas tenens, supra solium auleatum residens, puerum nutriens ac jure pascens, in loco cui nomen ‘Hebrea’—puerum, dico, a quibusdam nationibus nominatum Ihesum (sig­nifi­cantibus “eiça”), quem nos Christum dicimus. 34. Albertus Magnus, Speculum astronomiae, XII, 77–84 (ed. Zambelli, p. 254). Italics mine: In tractatu [Albumasaris] namque sexto, differentia prima, in capitulo de ascensionibus imaginum quae ascendunt cum Virgine, invenitur: “Et ascendit in prima facie [scilicet Virginis] puella quam vocat Cecchius Darostal; et est virgo pulchra atque honesta et munda, prolixi capilli, et pulchra facie, habens in manu duas spicas, et ipsa sedet super sedem stratam, et nutrit puerum, dans ei ad come-

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Notes to Pages 263–267 dendum ius in loco qui vocatur Abrie. Et vocat ipsum puerum quaedam gens Iesum, cuius interpretatio est Arabice Eiçe.” See also De vetula, III, 624–32 (ed. Zambelli, pp. 131–32). Italics mine: Hiis in imaginibus, que describuntur ab Indis Et Caldeorum sapientibus ac Babilonis, Dicitur ex veterum scriptis ascendere prima Virginis in facie, prolixi virgo capilli Munda quidaem magnique animi magnique decoris, Pluris honestatis, et in ipsius manibus sunt Spice suspensis et vestimenta vetusta. Sede sedet strata puerumque nutrit, puero ius. 35. H. W. Parke, Sibyls and Sibylline Prophecies of Classical Antiquity, ed. B. C. McGing, London, 1988, p. 26. 36. Hélin, “Un texte inédit,” pp. 356–57. 37. The same inscription is ascribed to the Samian sibyl in various other Germanic cycles, conveniently summarized in Vöge, Jörg Syrlin, II, table 1, between pp. 168–69. 38. Mâle, L’art religieux, p.  256. See especially Vöge, Jörg Syrlin, and, more recently, D. Gropp, Das Ulmer Chorgestül und Jörg Syrlin der Ältere: Untersuchungen zu Architektur und Bildwerk (Neue Forschungen zur Deutschen Kunst IV; Berlin, 1999), pp.  67–138 (“Die figürlichen Skulpture”). 39. Mâle, L’art religieux, p. 256; and De Clerq, “Quelques series ita­ liennes,” p. 114. The quotation ultimately derives from the Ora­ cula Sibyllina, a source that, as Mâle showed, was unknown in the fif­teenth century. It is quoted by Sozomenos, Ecclesiastical History, II, 10.

364

Index

=

Pages with illustrations are denoted with italics. Aaron, 247–49 Abraham, ­bishop of Suzdal, 224, 244–45 Abraham and Isaac (Belcari), 119, 152 Adam, 122, 140, 222 Adoration of the Magi, 260 Adoration of the Magi (Botticelli), 110, 111, 113, 148 Adoration of the Magi (Rosselli), 148, 149 adornments: for Samian sibyl, 190, 195; for ­women, 96–98, 101–2 adventus, 57, 64, 72 aesthetics, 21–22. See also beauty Agostino de Duccio, 121, 143; sibyl sculptures, 134, 135 Agrippa, 135, 168, 209, 213, 222, 226, 229; forma, 215, 216; Latin epi-

gram/epigramma for, 219; octave, 230, 231; prophecy of, 219 Albertus Magnus, 254, 261–63 Albumasar (Abu Ma’shar), 254–55, 259–63 “Albumasar astrologus,” 259 Alcina, 42 Alexander the Great, 253 all’antica (costumes), 203, 204 allegorical fig­ures, 102, 173 Allegory (Bronzino), 42 Allegory of Good Government (Lorenzetti), 72 Alessandro D’Ancona, 220, 221, 223 amanza (lyric beloved), 64 amore Iovis in Isottam, De (Porcellio), 134 Amos, 174, 189, 247

365

Index Andria (Terence), 138 Angelico, Fra, 61, 126, 154, 155, 265 Angevin royalty, 57, 58, 62 Anna, 242 Annunciation (Monaco), 61 Annunciation plays (Belcari), 119–21, 135, 136, 143, 144, 153, 158, 166, 202, 213, 220–41; Ancona-Banfi version (A-B), 221–42, 246–51, 265; authenticity of, 221, 223, 226; modi­fied for changing tastes, 222–23; Newbigin version (N), 221–42, 265; rappresentazione, 221, 222–25 Annunciation tableau, 227 Ansichten über die bildenden Künste und Darstellung des Ganges darselben in Toscana (Passavant), 18 Antiquitates rerum divinarum (Varro), 123 antiquity: appeal of, in Early Renaissance, 23–24, 70, 88–89; Quattrocento artists and, 23, 70, 88– 89; true Renaissance and, 205–6. See also classical revival; classical style; Greece Antonino, arch­bishop, 153, 155, 157, 202 Apelles, 5, 78, 83, 87, 90; Venus Anadyomene, 5 Apocalypse of St. John, 237–38 Apollo, 102 Araldo, Antonio, 153, 158 argumentum, 138 Armida, 42 Arnolfo di Cambio, 53 Ars versificatoria (Matthew of Vendôme), 28 art his­tory criticism, 41–42

ar­ti­fic­ ial ornamentation, 95–98, 101–2 Ascension plays, 119, 144, 146 Astalius, 261 astrology, 254, 261–62 Athena, 6 Augustus, 158, 206, 219, 255 aurea Roma iterum renovata, 206 Aurispa, 138 Badia Fiorentina, 157 “Baccio orafo,” 161 Bacon, Roger, 254, 261 Bagnoli, Alessandro, 57 Balaam, 243 Baldini, Baccio, 7, 122, 135, 213; copies from Martin Schongauer, 189; copies from Master ES, 174; costume changes, 190; dating engravings, 201; engravings by, 160– 62; Latin epigrams for sibyl engravings, 216–20; Master ES and, 173–74; peers, 171–73; Prophet Daniel, 191; prophet engravings, 166, 241–50; Prophets and Sibyls, 173; sibyl engravings, 121, 135–36, 159–74, 189–90, 195–96, 201, 203, 209–16, 237, 241, 265– 68; skill of, 160, 165–67, 171–72; vernacular octaves, 250–60 Banfi, Luigi, 221 Barbieri, Filippo, 132, 133, 210, 235, 262–63, 265; Sibyllarum de Christo vaticina, 210–11 Baroncelli, Maria Maddalena, 195–96 Baruch, 189, 248 Battle of the Nude Men (Pollaiuolo), 160 Bayreuth, 25

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Index beatitude, 42 Beatrice, 42, 64, 96, 109 beauty: adornments for, 96–98, 101–2; ar­ti­fi­cial ornamentation and, 95– 98, 101–2; classical view of, 22, 35; cosmetics for, 95–96; effictio, 35, 36; ideal, 22, 91–92, 101, 107; norms for representing, 4; of sibyls, 214, 215; vernacular de­ scrip­tion of, 28, 31–32, 44, 73, 91–92; virtue and, 41; of ­women, 28, 31–32; of works of great masters, 22 Beccadelli, Antonio (Panormita), 137 Belcari, Feo, 7, 119, 135, 137, 143, 152–53, 158, 166, 220, 222–24, 226, 227, 232–34, 241, 256; Abraham and Isaac, 119, 152; Annunciation play, 120, 121, 135, 136, 143–44, 153, 158, 166, 202, 213, 220–22; Dì del Giudizio, 159; rappresentazione, 221; sacre rappresentazione, 155 Bellori, Giovan Pietro, 17 Bellosi, Luciano, 172 Belting, Hans, 20–21, 55–56, 69–70 Bembo, Bernardo, 36, 41, 101 Benci, Tomasso, 152 Berenson, Bernard, 171 Bernardino of Siena, 140 Bertoldo, 14 Bethlehem, 148 bewegtes Beiwerk (accessories in agitated movement), 89 Biagio, Onofrio di Filippo di, 158 Biagio d’Antonio, 173 Birth of Venus (Botticelli), 5, 12, 23, 74, 77–78, 79, 83–84, 87–91, 107, 109, 110; blonde hair, 77; conceal-

ment of sex, 77–78, 83–84; grace (charis) in, 90; movement in, 89– 90; Poliziano’s de­scrip­tion of Venus and, 77–78, 83–84; pressing saltwater from hair, 77–78, 83–84; vernacular elements of, 89–90; Warburg on, 89–90 blonde hair: in Annunciation (Monaco), 61; in Birth of Venus (Botticelli), 77; of Madonna del Padiglione (Botticelli), 74; in Maestà (Martini), 43–50, 54, 62, 73; of Venus, 91 Boccaccio, Giovanni, 2, 13, 43, 96 Borghini, Francesco, 222 Borghini, Vincenzo, 222 Boskovitz, Miklos, 61 Botticelli, Sandro, 1, 5, 6, 12, 23, 31, 70, 102, 162, 165–68, 171, 204; Adoration of the Magi, 110, 111, 113, 148; Birth of Venus, 5, 12, 23, 74, 77–78, 79, 83–84, 87–91, 107, 109, 110; Calumny of Apelles, 101; favole, 88; Giuliano de’ Medici, 113–14, 115; Idealized Portrait of a Lady (socalled Simonetta), 91–92, 93, 102, 107, 109; Madonna della Melagrana, 74; Madonna del Magnificat, 42, 92; Madonna del Padiglione, 73–77, 75; Mars and Venus, 42, 70, 85–86, 97–98, 99, 107, 109, 203; Mi­nerva and the Centaur, 107, 109; Pallas and the Centaur, 203; Poliziano and, 77–78, 83–89; Portrait of Giuliano de’Medici, 92; Primavera, 33, 42, 70, 85, 88, 107, 109, 110, 195, 203, 205; Young Woman in Mythological Guise, A, 91–91, 96

367

Index Bracciolini, Poggio, 121, 123, 126, 131, 134, 136, 209 Bradwardine, Thomas, 255 Brenk, Beat, 44, 49, 53, 58, 69 Bronzino, Agnolo, 42 Brunelleschi, Filippo, 13, 14 Burckhardt, Jacob, 12, 23, 24, 26, 32, 35 Burdach, Konrad, 25 burins, 167 Byzantine Greeks, 172 Calendimaggio, 64 Calumny of Apelles (Botticelli), 101 camera paramenti, 121, 122–23, 131, 212–13, 264 camere Verdi, 134 Campbell, Jean, 43, 57, 63–64, 69, 72 Camporeale, Salvatore, 131 cantari, 138, 156 canti carnascialeschi, 151 Cantimori, Delio, 25 Cantus Sibyllae, 124 Canzoniere (Lorenzo de’ Medici), 108, 110 Carli, Enzo, 44, 50, 53–55, 63 carnal charm, 54 Carracci, Annibale, 17, 22 Cartier, 196 Casa Romei, 134 catechistical instruction, 155–56 Cattaneo, Simonetta, 91–91, 101, 107–9, 114 Cennini, Cennino, 43 Cennini, Pietro, 138 Chapel of St. Martin, 58 Chapel of the Sibyls, 121 Charlemagne, 205

Charles the Bold, 195, 196 Chastel, André, 23, 88 Chastity, 91 children’s companies, 119–20, 154–57 Children’s Company Dedicated to the Purification of the Virgin, 154–55 chivalric epics, 156 Christ: astrology and, 261–62; Incarnation of, 121, 130, 131, 142, 168, 206, 220; Last Judgment, 120, 123, 130, 168; Magi pro­ces­sion and, 148; prophesies about, 121, 123, 130, 142, 168, 216–20, 255, 261; virgin birth of, 255, 261 Christ Before Pilate (Schongauer), 189, 193 Christian charity, 42 Chrysippus, 253 Cicero, 156 Cimmerian sibyl, 123, 189, 253; clothing, 190; forma, 215; Latin epigram/epigramma for, 217; prophecy of, 217; vernacular octave, 250, 259–63 “Città di vita, La” (Palmieri), 141 civic games (giuochi), 108 civilian dress (civil vestire), 204 classical content (ethos), 12, 74, 77 classical drama, 156 classical form (pathos), 12, 74, 77 classical revival: nature rendering, 14; in Renaissance art, 2–4, 17–18; terminology, 12, 70, 87–91. See also antiquity classical style: Greek art, 89; Winckelmann’s view of, 13, 14, 19–20, 87

368

Index clothing: corselet, 102; day dress (camicia da giorno), 98; for festival celebrations, 91, 202–3; of Madonna del Padiglione (Botticelli), 74; Maestà (Martini), 58; of prophets, 166, 190, 201; quasi-theatrical, 102, 190; for sacre rappresentazioni, 202–3; of sibyls, 166, 190, 195–96, 201, 213–16; of Trojan heroes, 172 Codro, Antonio Urceo, 83 Cola da Rienzo, 25, 70 Colvin, Sidney, 161 Comento sopra alcuni de’ suoi sonetti (Lorenzo de’ Medici), 3 Commedia (Dante), 72, 141, 165 Compagnia della Natività del Signore, 157, 158 Compagnia della Purificazione della Beata Vergine Maria e di San Zanobi, 157, 158 Compagnia de’ Magi, 147, 148 Compagnia di San Giovanni Evangelista, 157 Compagnia di San Niccolò del Ceppo, 157 Compagnia di Sant’Antonio da Padova, 157, 158 compagnie dei fanciulli (children’s companies), 119–20, 154–58 Concordia (Pico), 25 Confraternity of St. Luke, 168 Constantine, emperor, 11 Contra Judaeos, Paganos, et Arianos Sermo de Symbolo (Pseudo-­Augustine), 124, 125–26, 242 Convivio (Dante), 3 cornflowers ( fiordiligi), 91

Coronation of the Virgin (Finiguerra), 160 Correggio, 17, 22 Corsini Palace, 173 cortesia, 4, 73; Maestà (Martini) and, 55, 63, 71, 72 Corvinus, Matthias, 167 cosmetics, 95–96 Council of Ferrara, 134 Council of Florence, 172 courtly poetry, vernacular language in, 42 Creation play, 120 Cronaca figurata (Besozzo), 122 Cropper, Elizabeth, 28, 31, 35 Crucifixion (Finiguerra), 162 Crucifixion (Fra Angelico), 126, 127 crucifix reliquary, 161–62, 163 Cumaean sibyl, 123, 129, 141, 189, 233; clothing, 195; forma, 215; Latin epigram/epigramma for, 217–18; prophecy of, 217–18; vernacular octave, 250–52 Cusano, 25 Cusanus, 136 cyclical dramas (dramma ciclica), 140, 141 Daniel, 124, 189, 244, 247, 250 Dante, 3, 12, 28, 32, 43, 49, 55, 64, 72, 96, 110, 141, 162; Commedia, 72, 141, 165; Convivio, 3; Inferno, 162; Vita nuova, 3 David, 124, 129, 189, 243, 246–50 de’Benci, Ginevra, 36–42 De civitate Dei (Augustine), 123, 124 De Clerq, 267

369

Index De essentiis (Hermann of Carinthia), 261–62 De Ierusaleum celesti (Giacomino da ­Verona), 55, 63 Della vita civile (Palmieri), 137 Delphic sibyl, 123, 174, 235; clothing, 190; forma, 213; Latin epigram/ epigramma for, 216; prophecy of, 216; vernacular octave, 250, 253– 60 descriptio pulchritudinis. See vernacular courtly de­scrip­tions (descriptio pulchritudinis) d’Este, Leonello, 134, 137, 142 De Tolnay, Charles, 32 Detti piacevoli (Poliziano), 84 De vetula (Ovid), 254–56, 258, 259 devotional verse, 27 Diana (Delia), 65 Dicta Sibyllarum, 168 Dì del Giudizio (Belcari), 159 disjunction, law of, 2, 12, 74, 77 Dit des Sibilles, 133 Divinae institutiones (Lactantius), 123, 168 dolce stil novo, 3, 32, 53, 107, 110 Donatello, 3, 13 Donati, Lucrezia, 42, 107, 114 Donato, Eugenio, 108 Donatus, 138 donna, 102, 107 drama, 156–57 Duccio di Buoninsegna, 12; Madonna Rucellai, 56, 62; Maestà, 44, 47, 54–58 Duomo (Siena), 126 Durand, Julien, 125

Early Modern Period, 8 Early Renaissance, 19; appeal of antiquity in, 23–24, 70, 88–89; classical revival and, 87–91; humanism and, 25–26, 206; joie de vivre in, 23–24; spirituality and, 25–26; wellspring of, 24–25 Ecumenical Council, 244 edifici (parade floats), 91, 139–41, 143– 44 Edward IV, king, 196 effictio (external appearances of female beauty), 35, 36, 44 Elijah, 247 Elisha, 189, 247 Elizabeth, 125 Emilia, 96 engravings, 160–62. See also prophets, engravings; sibyl engravings epigrammata, 216–20; for prophets, 209; for sibyls, 216, 229 Erasmus, 97 Erythraean sibyl, 123–26, 129, 130, 141, 189, 212, 226, 235–36, 240, 243; difference in Baldini and Orsini epigrams for, 219–20; forma, 213– 14; Latin epigram/epigramma for, 218, 220; prophecy of, 218, 220; vernacular octave, 236, 263–67 Erythraean Sibyl (Gozzoli), 126, 127, 129 Etymologiae (Isidore of Seville), 123 Eugenius IV, 120, 121, 131–32, 136, 137, 147, 153–54, 156–57 Euripides, 253 Europa, 168, 189, 209, 213; forma, 215; Latin epigram/epigramma for,

370

Index 219; prophecy of, 219; vernacular octave, 250, 252–53 European sibyl, 174 Eusebius, 122 Evangelist John, The (Master ES), 174, 175 Evangelist Mark, The (Master ES), 174, 177 Evangelist Matthew, The (Master ES), 174, 179 Eve, 122, 140 “Examination of Concepts of Antiquity in Ital­ian Early Renaissance, An” (Warburg), 23 Ezekiel, 174, 189, 247–48 false hair (posticcie), 97–98 favole, 88, 110 feast of San Giovanni. See San Giovanni, feast of Feast of the Epiphany, 147 Federico d’Aragona, 108 fenestrelle, 201 Ferrara, 142 Ferrer, Vincent, 140 festaiuoli, 139, 140, 221, 222, 224, 225, 233, 242, 249 festival celebrations: costumes, 91, 202–3; in Florence, 144–48; hair ornaments, 203–4 Ficino, 87 Finiguerra, Maso, 160–62, 165, 167; Coronation of the Virgin, 160; Crucifixion, 162 Fletcher, Jennifer, 41 Flora, 31, 89–91, 195, 203 Florence, 42, 86, 102, 107, 110; cultural

renovation (renovatio), 108; festival costumes, 91; festivities in, 144–48; humanists, 136–37; sibyls, 8 Florentine Picture Chronicle, 122, 171 forma picturae, 121 forma Sibyllarum, 213 Four Seated Evangelists (Master ES), 174 France: courtly culture, 57; effictio conventions, 44; figurative language, 50; Gothic style, 50, 53, 73, 90; royal crown, 58; troubadours, 53 Francis I, king, 133 Frederick II, emperor, 26 Freedberg, Sydney, 19 French language, sibyls’ prophecies in, 133 Freund, Lothar, 210 frottola, 92, 95–96 Gabriel, 221 Gaddiano, Anonimo, 167 “Galee per Quaracchi, Le” (Galleys for Quaracchi) (Pulci), 5, 95–96 Garin, Eugenio, 32, 206 garzoni, 161 Gaspary, Adolph, 78 Gebhart, Emile, 25 Gentile prophetesses, 130 Gentile Sibyls, 130 Geoffrey of Vinsauf, 44, 73 Germanic nationalism, 26 German Romanticism, 12 Ghiberti, Lorenzo, 13, 43 Ghirlandaio, Domenico, 133, 171, 173 Giacomino da Verona, Fra, 55, 63 Gilbert, Creighton, 168

371

Index Gilbert, Felix, 23 Gilray, James, 71–72 Giotto di Bondone, 11–12, 17, 27; Virgin’s Wedding Procession, The, 27, 29 Giovanni, Apollonio di, 171–72 Giovanni, Giovanni di ser (Lo Scheggia), 171–73 Giuliano de’ Medici (Botticelli), 113–15 gods, in Primavera (Botticelli), 2 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 18 goldsmithing, 160–619 Gombrich, E. H., 19–21, 23, 31, 172 Gorni, Guglielmo, 109 Gozzoli, Benozzo, 14, 126, 147, 155, 161, 265; Erythraean Sibyl, 126, 127, 129; Horsetamers, 14, 15; Procession of the Magi, 147–48, 155 grace (charis), 90 Greece: acrostic poem, 124; classical art, 89; Hellenic style, 17, 18, 20– 22 Gregory of Melissenus, 62 grillanduzze (hair adornments), 97 Grosseteste, Robert, 261 Guarini, Guarino, 134, 137, 142 Guinizelli, Guido, 28, 64–65 Habakkuk, 124–25, 174, 247 Haggai, 174, 247 hair: adornments, 96–97; dyes, 95; festival ornamentation, 203–4; hats, 172 head jewels ( gioelli da testa), 96 Head of a Woman (Leonardo da Vinci), 98, 105

Head of a Young Woman (Verrocchio), 98, 103 headpieces, 172 Hélin, Maurice, 210, 264 Hellenic style, 17, 18, 20–22 Hellespontine sibyl, 123, 235–37; clothing, 190, 195; forma, 214; Latin epigram/epigramma for, 218; prophecy of, 218; vernacular octave, 250, 263–68 hennins (headpieces), 172, 190 Hermann of Carinthia, 260–62 Hermes, 261 Hermes Trismegistus, 141, 142 Hind, Arthur, 161 Hispalensis, Johannes, 260 Hitler, Adolf, 25 Hodegetria, 44, 56 Horne, Herbert, 78 horoscopes, of world religions, 254 horsehair ropes, for hair adornment, 97–98 Horsetamers (Gozzoli), 14, 15 Hosea, 248, 249 Hour of Spring (Flora), 89–90 Hours (Louis de Laval), 133 humanism: Early Renaissance and, 25– 26, 206; Orsini sibyl paintings and, 131, 136–37, 142–43, 151–52, 202–3 ideal beauty, 22, 91–92, 101, 107 Idealized Portrait of a Lady (so-called Simonetta) (Botticelli), 5, 91–92, 93, 102, 107, 109 Ilg, Ulrike, 69

372

Index Incarnation, 121, 130, 131, 142, 168, 206, 220, 254 Inferno (Dante), 162 International Style, 73 Introductorium maius (Albumasar), 254, 260, 261 Inventing the Renaissance Putto (Dempsey), 3 Isaac, Heinrich, 202 Isabeau of Bavaria, 133 Isaiah, 124, 174, 190, 246, 250 Iseult, 28, 42 Isidore of Seville, 123 Islam, 254 Istorie fiorentine (Machiavelli), 86, 145 Ital­ian language, in Maestà (Martini), 49, 72 Ital­ian recension (M), 211, 213–16, 235, 264–66 Ital­ian vernacular, 57 Iudicii signum, 124, 125, 130, 132, 168, 226, 243, 264 Jacob, 247 Jacopone da Todi, 27, 55, 63 Jeremiah, 124, 189, 244, 247–49 Jerusalem, 148 Jews: blindness of, 262; disbelief of, 124–25; prophets, 124–25, 130 Joachim of Flora, 25 Joel, 189, 247 John, 125 John the Baptist, 242 joie de vivre, 23–34 Jonah, 246, 247 Jonas, 189

Joseph II of Constantinople, 62 Joshua, 247 Judas Thaddeus (Master ES), 174 Julius II, 19 juniper (ginepro), 41 Jupiter, 254, 255 Justice, 222 Klesse, Brigitte, 58 Kokole, Stanko, 135 Kulture der Renaissance in Italien, Die (Burckhardt), 12 Lactantius, 123, 129, 130, 168, 213, 220, 253, 259, 265, 267 Lady with a Helmet and Shield (Master ES), 174, 187 Lamb of God, 126 Landino, Christoforo, 32, 162 Last Judgment, 123, 130, 168; play, 120 Last Judgment (Michelangelo), 124 Last Supper (detail from pro­ces­sional cross), 163; “BB” inscription, 161–62 Latini, Brunetto, 28, 42, 72 Latin language, 42, 43 lauda, 27, 63, 153 laudesi companies, 28 Laura, 42, 65–66, 96, 109 Laurentian manuscript (M), 211 lay devotional verse, 27 Lazzi, Giovanna, 172 Leda, 98, 103 Lehrs, Max, 174 Leonardo da Besozzo, 122

373

Index Leonardo da Vinci, 19; Head of a Woman, 98, 105; Portrait of Ginevra de’Benci, 36–42, 37, 39, 101 Leone de’ Sommi, 204 Leo X, pope, 19 Libyan sibyl, 123, 174, 222, 226, 230; clothing, 190, 195; forma, 215; Latin epigram/epigramma for, 217; octave, 231–32; prophecy of, 217 Liège-Tongerloo manuscripts (L-T), 210–11 Limentani, Alberto, 256 Lippi, Filippino, 168 Lippi, Filippo, 165, 171 Lippi-Pesellino Imitator, 171 Livre de la cité des dames, Le (Pizan), 254 Lorenzetti, Ambrogio, 72 Lorenzo, Piero di, 171 Lorenzo the Magnificent. See Medici, Lorenzo de’ Loschi, Antonio, 136 Louis de Laval, 133 Louise of Savoy, 133 love: in Allegory (Bronzino), 42; expression of, 41–43, 90; in Mars and Venus (Botticelli), 42; in Primavera (Botticelli), 42 Loyet, Gerard, 196 Machiavelli, 86, 145 Madonna dei Denti (Bologna), 61 Madonna della Melagrana (Botticelli), 74 Madonna del Magnificat (Botticelli), 92 Madonna del Padiglione (Botticelli), 73–

77, 75; blonde hair, 74; clothing, 74; veil, 74 Madonna lactans, 74 Madonna of Humility (Fra Angelico), 61, 74 Madonna of the Long Neck (Parmigianino), 31 Madonna of the Magnificat (Botticelli), 42 Madonna Rucellai (Duccio di Buoninsegna), 56, 62 Madonnas: blonde, 43–50, 54, 61, 62, 73, 74; characteristic features of, 44; Ital­ian language and, 49; as Queen of Heaven, 54–55; secularized images in, 58, 61; with uncovered hair, 44; vernacular de­ scrip­tions of, 28 Maestà (Duccio di Buoninsegna), 44, 47, 54–58, 73 Maestà (Martini), 4–5, 43–55, 45, 54– 55, 91; adventus, 57, 64, 72; blonde hair, 43, 44, 49, 50, 54, 62, 73; clothing, 58, 62; as cortesia, 55, 63, 71, 72, 73; crown, 57–58; facial features, 44, 54; innovations in, 43, 50, 53, 55; Ital­ian vernacular and, 49, 57, 70, 72; padiglione, 57, 72; po­lit­ic­ al context of, 71–72; as Queen of the May, 64; royal pavilion, 57, 62, 72; as secular sovereign, 58, 61–63; sig­nifi­cance of, 4; throne, 58 Maestà (Memmi), 43–44 Magi pro­ces­sion, 147, 148 maius (green branch), 27

374

Index Malachi, 174, 189, 247 Malatesta, Sigismondo, 143, 148 Mâle, Emile, 27, 124, 132, 133, 166, 167, 210 Manet, Edouard, 21 maniera greca, 13 maniera moderna, 13, 19 Mantegna, Andrea, 77 Maratta, Carlo, 21 Margaret of York, 196 Maria Maddalena Baroncelli, Wife of Tomaso Portinari (Memling), 195– 96, 197, 201 Marian panel, 55–56 Maria sopra Mi­nerva, 133 Mariette, Pierre-Jean, 173 Marpessus, 264 Mars and Venus (Botticelli), 42, 85–86, 97–98, 99, 107, 109, 203; clothing, 98; hair adornments, 98; paniscus trumpeting into Mars’s ear, 85, 97; vernacular imagery, 70; wasp’s nest in, 97 Marsyas, 102 Martini, Simone, 4–5, 90; Maestà, 4–5, 43–55, 45, 54–55, 57, 71, 91; St. Louis of Toulouse Crowning Robert of Anjou, 57–58, 59 Martin V, pope, 212 Masaccio, 13 mascherata, 151, 202 Masolino, 73, 122 Master ES, 165, 173, 174, 189, 190; Evangelist John, The, 174, 175; Evangelist Mark, The, 174, 177; Evangelist Matthew, The, 174, 179; Lady with a

Helmet and Shield, 174, 187; Prophet Amos, The, 183; Saint Paul, 174, 185; Saint Thomas, 174, 181 Master of Santo Spirito, 171 Master of the Adimari cassone, 171 Master of the Castello Nativity, 171 Master of the Johnson Nativity, 171 Matteo di Meglio, Antonio di (Antonio Araldo), 153 Matthew of Vendôme, 28, 31, 44 Mazziere, Agnolo del, 171 Mazziere, Donnino del, 171 mazzocchi (woven garlands of false hair), 97 McNamee, Maurice, 244 Meaune, Jean de, 261 Medici, Cosimo de’, 110, 113, 137–38, 146–48, 151–54, 157, 204, 205 Medici, Cosimo I de’, 222 Medici, Giovanni di Cosimo de’, 135, 153 Medici, Giuliano de’, 6, 92, 107, 109, 113–14 Medici, Lorenzo de’, 3, 42, 84, 92, 95, 102, 107–8, 110, 113–14, 137–38, 144, 146, 152, 153, 172, 202–5 Medici, Nannina de’ ( la Quaracchina), 95 Medici, Piero de’, 143, 144, 153 Medici, Piero di Cosimo di, 135 Medici Palace, 147–48, 172 Médicis, Marie de, 72 Medici Venus, 5 Meditationes vitae Christi (Pseudo-Bonaventura), 228 Melchisedech, 18

375

Index Memling, Hans: Maria Maddalena Ba­ roncelli, Wife of Tomaso Portinari, 195–96, 197, 201 Memmi, Lippo: Maestà, 43–44 Menaechmi (Plautus), 136, 138 mente (image of mind), 114 Mercury, 85, 254, 255, 258 Mercy, 222 Micah, 221, 248, 249 Michea, 221, 248 Michelangelo, 6, 13, 17, 22, 32, 124, 133; teste divine, 101 Milano, Giovanni da, 73 Mi­nerva and the Centaur, 107, 109 Mirabilia urbis Romae, 129 Miscellanea (Poliziano), 85–86 Mistére de l’Incarnation, 132 Mistére de Octavien et de Sibille Tiburtine touchant la Conception, 132, 141 Mistére du Viel Testament, Le, 132–33 Monaco, Lorenzo, 61, 73 Morgante (Pulci), 153 Moses, 124, 243–47 movement, in Birth of Venus (Botticelli), 89–90 municipal verse, 72 Mussolini, Benito, 25 Muzi, Antonio de Mariano, 158 Muzi, Piero di Mariano, 7, 135, 152, 155, 158, 202, 224, 225–27, 242, 249; Purification play, 119–21, 135, 136 mysticism, 24–25 mythology, 88, 109 Nachleben, 12 Naevius, 253 Nahum, 247

Naldi, Naldo, 109 nationalism, 26 Nativity tableau, 227 natural world: Early Renaissance representation of, 24; expressing idea of love in, 43; Greek and Roman models for, 13–14; paintings of lived experience in, 42– 43; in Trecento, 18, 69 Nebuchadnezzar, 125 Neoplatonic intepretations, 23, 35 Nero, Francesco del, 139 Newbigin, Nerida, 143, 144, 158–59, 221, 223–29, 250 Nicanor, 253 Niccoli, Niccolò, 136, 137, 153 Nicola, 49–50 niellists, 160–62, 167 Ninfale Fiesolano (Boccaccio), 2 Noah, 246, 247 Norman, Diana, 57 “Norm and Form” (Gombrich), 19 northern European recension (L-T), 210–11, 213–16, 235, 262, 264, 266, 267 notatio (essential character), 35 notationes (descriptive listing of internal qualities), 35–36 nude fig­ure, 160–61 nymphs, 203–4 Obadiah, 174, 247 Oberhuber, Konrad, 161, 162, 165 Observant Dominicans: Fiesole, 154; San Marco, 157, 159–74, 189, 190, 195–96, 201, 203

376

Index Octavian (Augustus), 126, 129, 141, 218 Old Testament prophets, 120, 141–42 O’Malley, John, 131 “On Beautiful Women, Parmigianino, Petrarchismo, and the Vernacular Style” (Cropper), 28 Opus maius, 254 Oratory of Sant’Apollonia (Mezzaratta), 61 Ordo Prophetarum (Procession of the Prophets), 120, 126, 130, 156, 159, 166, 223–29, 240, 242–43 Orsini, Giordano, 6, 7, 232, 233; exile of, 132; Florentine humanists and, 136–37. See also Orsini sibyl paintings Orsini Palace, 8, 122 Orsini sibyl paintings, 8, 120–22, 124, 129–30; Agostino’s sculptures and, 135; Baldini’s engravings of, 135–36, 159, 168; camera paramenti, 122–23; dates of, 131–32; de­scrip­ tions of, 133–34, 138–39, 210–11, 213–16; destruction of, 122; epigrammata, 209–10, 216–20, 241, 251; formae, 210, 241, 243; formae picturae, 211; humanism and, 136– 37, 142–43, 151–52, 202–3; iconography, 123; instructions for other artists, 211–12; manuscript de­scrip­tion of, 134; nomina, 210; original texts, 210; as vernacular, 143 vernacular octaves for, 220– 41. See also sibyls; spe­cific sibyls Osea, 221 ottava rima, 7, 120, 140, 143, 156, 166,

202, 226, 240, 249, 256; development of, 151–52; for sibyl engravings, 209 Ovid, 83, 254, 255 padiglione, 57, 72 Palazzo Communale (San Gimi­ gnano), 44 Palazzo Medici, 172 Pallas, 102, 107 Pallas and the Centaur (Botticelli), 203 Palmieri, Matteo, 137, 139–40, 143, 157– 58, 224 Pan, 85–86 panic terrors (panikoi phoboi), 85–86 paniscus, in Mars and Venus (Botticelli), 85, 97 Panizatto, Niccolò, 134 pannocchi (false hair ropes), 97–98 Panofsky, Erwin, 2, 4, 12, 13, 18, 19, 23, 25, 32, 74, 77, 88, 205 Panormita, 137. See also Beccadelli, Antonio (Panormita) paragone, 36 Parma, Basinio da, 142 Parmigianino, 31, 90 Passavant, Johann David, 18 pax fidei, 25 Peace, 222 pearls, in hair (vespai), 96–98 Pelican History of Art, 19 Pentecost play, 119, 144–45 Persian sibyl, 123, 211, 236–38, 253; clothing, 195–96, 201; forma, 215, 216; Latin epigram/epigramma for, 217; octave, 238–39; prophecy of, 217; vernacular octave, 250

377

Index perspective, 14 Perugino, 133 Petrarch, 3, 12, 28, 43, 65–66, 96, 110 Phillips, John Goldsmith, 161 Phrygian sibyl, 123, 226, 235; clothing, 195; forma, 214–15; Latin Phrygian sibyl (continued) epigram/epigramma for, 219; octave, 232–34; prophecy of, 219; vernacular octave, 251 Pico della Mirandola, Giovanni, 25 Pierozzi, Antonino, 120, 139, 153 Pilate, 189 Pinturrichio, 133 Pisanello, 14 Pisano, Andrea, 129 Pisano, Giovanni, 49, 126, 129, 218, 264 Pisano, Nino, 129 Pisa pulpit, 49 Pius II, 145, 147, 167 Pizan, Christine de, 254 Planudean Anthology, 6, 78 Platonic ideal of beauty, 22 Plautus, 136, 138, 156; Menaechmi, 136, 138 Pliny, 5, 83, 90 Poetria nova (Vinsauf), 28, 73 poetry, 2–3, 35, 42 Politian, 43 Poliziano, Angelo, 1–3, 5, 77–78, 83– 84, 101, 109, 202, 206; Botticelli and, 77–78, 83–89; Stanze co­ minciate per giostra di Giuliano de’Medici, 2, 77–78, 83–84, 86–87, 92, 101, 108, 109, 114 Pollaiuolo, Antonio, 14, 160–61, 165,

167, 190; Battle of the Nude Men, 160 Pollaiuolo, Piero del, 144, 167, 173; Prudence, 169 polyptych, 55–56 Porcellio, 134 Portico, Agostino di, 224 Portinari, Tomaso, 195, 196 Portrait of Ginevra de’Benci (Leonardo da Vinci), 36–42, 37, 39, 101; motto on reverse of, 39, 41 Portrait of Giuliano de’Medici (Botticelli), 92 Portrait of Margaret of York (unknown artist), 199 Portrait of Simonetta Cattaneo Vespucci (Botticelli), 5. See also Idealized Portrait of a Lady (so-called Simonetta) (Botticelli) Portrayal of Love, The: Botticelli’s Primavera and Humanist Culture at the Time of Lorenzo the Magnificent (Dempsey), 1 Poussin, Nicolas, 31 Pozzi, Giovanni, 31 Prato spirituale (Traversari), 135 preaching, in common tongue vs. Latin, 27 Primavera (Botticelli), 1, 23, 31, 33, 42, 85, 88, 107, 109, 110, 195, 203, 205; classical illusions in, 2, 70; iconography of, 1–2; vernacular imagery, 70 Procession of the Magi (Gozzoli), 147– 48, 155 prophecies, 216–20. See also spe­cific sibyls

378

Index Prophet Amos, The (Master ES), 183 Prophet Daniel (Baldini), 191 Prophetie XII sibillarum de Incarnatione Christi, 130–31 prophets, 241–50; clothing, 190, 201; costumes, 166; engravings, 166, 241–50; Jews and, 130; Latin epigramma, 209; octaves for, 224–26, 246–50; Old Testament, in Ordo Prophetarum, 120, 141–42; Orsini’s paintings of, 120–21; verses spoken by, 222–26 Prophets and Sibyls (Baldini), 173 Prudence (Pollaiuolo), 169 Pseudo-Augustine, 240, 242, 243 Pseudolus, 137 Pseudo-Ovid, 255, 256, 259 Pseudo-Pierfrancesco Fiorentino, 171 public rituals, professionalization of vernacular forms of, 151, 202 Pulci, Luigi, 5–6, 92, 95–98, 108; Morgante, 153 Punic Wars (Naevius), 253 Purification Company, 155, 225 Purification of the Virgin, feast of, 154–55 Purification play (Muzi), 119–21, 135, 136, 225–27, 230–35, 240–42, 245–49 Quattrocento: antiquity and, 23, 70, 88–89; classical illusions in, 4; putto revival in, 3; ­women’s adornments, 96–98, 101–2 Queen of Heaven, 63; Madonna as, 54–55; in Maestà (Duccio di Buoninsegna), 54–58

Queen of the May, 57, 64 Quintilian, 156 Quirinal Horsetamers, 14 Raccolta Aragonese, 107–8, 152, 203, 205–6 Raphael, 12, 17–22, 90 rappresentazione della natività del nostra Signore, La, 158 rappresentazione della Purificazione, 225 rappresentazioni, 7, 140, 144, 222, 225, 227–29, 231, 240 reformatio, 24–25 Reformation, Renaissance, Humanismus: zwei Abhandlung über die Grundlage moderner Bildung und Sprachkunst (Burdach), 25 reformatores, 25 religions: Early Renaissance and, 24; horoscopes of, 254 religious rituals, performed for entertainment, 145. See also spe­cific plays Rembrandt, 20, 21 Renaissance: as distinct historical period, 4; jewelry, 102; as rebirth of classicism, 12–13; terminology, 204–6 Renaissance and Renascences in Western Art (Panofsky), 12, 74, 77 Renaissance art: de­fin­ing, 11; forms of expression, 151; Neoplatonic intepretations of, 23; as rebirth (rinascita), 11; Vasari’s narrative of, 18; vernacular culture and, 1, 4, 26–27; Winckelmann’s narrative of, 18

379

Index Renan, Ernest, 25 Reni, Guido, 90 renovatio, 24–25, 204 renovatio imperii romani, 205 renovatio litteris, 204–5 renovatio mundi, 87 renovation (renovatio) of Florentine culture, 108 rhetorical skills, 156 ribbons (frenelli), 96 Richard de Fournival, 254 Ridolfi, Giuliano, 139 Rime sparse (Petrarch), 65–66 Rimini, 142 rinascita di Cristo (Holy Spirit), 25 Robert, of Anjou, king, 58 Roman iconography, 7–8 Romano, Giulio, 21 Roman sarcophagi, 14 Rosini, Giovanni, 78 Rosselli, Cosimo, 171; Adoration of the Magi, 148, 149; engraving by, 166–67 Rosselli, Francesco, 165, 166, 257; sibyl engraving copies, 216 Rothschild, Jean de, 133 Rouen Cathedral, 243–44 Rubens, Peter Paul, 72 Rucellai, Bernardo, 6, 95 Rucellai, Giovanni, 160 Rustici, Giovanni, 139 sacra rappresentazione, 138, 146–48, 151, 166, 202, 220, 225–28, 233, 242, 245, 249–51; appearance of, 119– 20 authenticity of, 221; children’s companies and, 155; development of, 156–59; as new form, 151–53

Saint Paul (Master ES), 174, 185 sala theatri paintings, 122 Sali, Piero di Bartolomeo di, 160, 161 Samian sibyl, 123, 189, 212, 230, 237, 264; clothing and adornments, 190, 195; forma, 214; Latin epigram/epigramma for, 217; octave, 232–33, 239–40; prophecy of, 217 Samuel, 189, 247 San Giovanni, feast of, 6–7, 120, 138– 43, 158–59, 225 San Giovanni nel deserto (Belcari and Benci), 159 San Marco, Florence, 126, 127, 154 Sassetti Chapel, 173 Saturn, 254 Scheggia, Antonfrancesco, 173 Scheggia, lo. See Giovanni, Giovanni di ser Schlegel, Friedrich, 12 Schongauer, Martin, 189; Christ Before Pilate, 189, 193 School of Paris, 50, 73 Scipio Africanus, 65 Scrovegni Chapel, 27 sculpture: French Gothic style, 50; of Madonna with gilded hair, 49–50 Seidel, Max, 49, 50 Sellaio, Jacopo del, 173, 204; Triumph of Chastity, 91 senhal (mask), 107, 114 Sepin, Maurice, 242 Serristori, Giovanni, 139 Settis, Salvatore, 213 Sforza, Francesco, 145–46 Sforza, Galeazzo Maria, duke of Milan, 144, 145–46, 166, 201–2

380

Index sibyl engravings, 135–36, 243; comparing Orsini de­scrip­tions to, 213– 16; epigramma, 209, 216, 241; formae sibyllarum and, 209–16; manuscript de­scrip­tions and, 209–10; nomen, 209; ottava rima, 209; prophecies, 209, 212; Rosselli’s copies of, 216; set of, 220. See also spe­cific sibyls Sibyllarum de Christo vaticina (Barbieri), 210, 211, 235 sibylline octaves: Agrippa, 230; authenticity of, 223–27; Hellespontine sibyl, 236–37; Libyan sibyl, 231–32; Orsini epigrams and, 240; Persian sibyl, 236–38; Phrygian sibyl, 232–36; reconstruction of, 121, 227–41; Samian sibyl, 239–40; vernacular, 220–41, 250– 63. See also vernacular sibylline octaves sibyls: Baldini’s engravings of, 121, 159– 74, 189–90, 195–96, 201, 203; beauty of, 214, 215; clothing of, 166, 190, 201, 213–16; cyclical dramas (dramma ciclica), 140, 141; dissemination of canon, 132; earliest rec­ords of, 143; epigrammata for, 216–20; fictitious, 221, 229, 238; French language and, 133; humanist or Incarnationist theology, 131; individual characteristics of, 130, 159–60; Latin epigrams for, 216–20, 227–41; number of, 134, 141, 213; octaves for, 220–41, 250–63; oracles, 123; order of, 123; in Ordo Prophetarum, 120; prophecies of, 123, 168, 222, 227; Roman

iconography for, 7–8; sculptures and carvings of, 129, 134, 135; St. John the Baptist feast pro­ces­sion, 140–42; vernacular verse, 132. See also Orsini sibyl paintings; sibylline octaves; spe­cific sibyls Siena, 57, 71–72 Silvestris, Bernard, 261 Simeon, 125, 242, 246 Sistine Chapel, 133 skin lotions and medications, 95–96 Sofonia, 221, 248 Solomon, 129, 189, 247–49 Sostratus, 102 Sozomen, 167 Speculum astronomia, 254–55 Speculum principis, 72 spiritelli (sprites), 3 spirituality, 25–26 Stanze cominciate per la giostra di Giuliano de’Medici (Poliziano), 77–78, 83– 84, 86–87, 92, 101, 108, 109, 114; classical allusions in, 2 Stanze della festa di Otaviano Imperadore, 158 Starnina, 73 St. Augustine, 123, 124, 129–31, 168, 212, 220, 264, 265 St. Cosmas, 154, 155 St. Damian, 154, 155 stemmi, 44 St. Francis of Assisi, 24, 25; vernacular culture associated with, 27–28 stil novo, 31, 63–64, 69 St. James the Greater (Master ES), 174 St. John (Master ES), 174 St. John the Baptist feast, 138–43 St. Louis, 58

381

Index St. Louis of Toulouse Crowning Robert of Anjou (Martini), 57–58, 59 St. Peter (Master ES), 174 Stradanus (Giovanni Stradano), 21 St. Thomas (Master ES), 174, 181 style (maniera), 19 St. Zenobius, 155 Sylvester, pope, 11 Symeon, 58, 61–62 Syrlin, Jörg, 267

Trexler, Richard, 147, 158 Tribunal of the Mercanzia, 173 Trinkaus, Charles, 131 triumphal displays (trionfi), 108 Triumph of Chastity (Sellaio), 91 Trojan heroes, 172 Truth, 222 Tuscan art, 18 Twelve Seated Apostles (Master ES), 174 Tyche, 102

Tatar (Ukrainian) fabrics, 58, 62 taurus pa­cificus, 126, 129, 212, 264, 265 tela di rensa (cloth from Reims), 74 Tempio Malatestiano (Rimini), 121, 134 Terence, 138, 156 terza maniera, 13, 17 terza rima, 49 teste divine, 101 Theodore of Gaza, 142 Thode, Henry, 23–27, 70 throne, Maestà (Martini), 58 Tiburtine sibyl, 123, 129, 132, 141, 158, 174, 230; clothing, 190; forma, 214; Latin epigram/epigramma for, 218–19; prophecy of, 218–19; vernacular octave, 250, 252, 257 Tintoretto, Jacopo, 17 Titans, 85–86 Titian, 17, 22; Venus Anadyomene, 83 toiletries, 95–96 Tomaso di Leone (Thomas Leonis Bononiensis), 140 Tornabuoni, Lucrezia, 95, 153 Traversari, Ambrogio, 135, 137 Trecento: naturalism in, 18, 69; vernacular style in, 43

Ultima Cumaei venit iam carminis aetas (Virgil), 251 Ultramontanism, 26 umanissima, 206 uomini illustri, 142 Valturio, Roberto, 121, 134, 142 van der Goes, Hugo, 195 Van Eyck, Jan, 21 Van Eyck, Barthelémy, 122 Varro, 123, 124, 213 Vasari, 11, 14, 17, 18–19, 22, 43, 161, 165, 171 Vaticinium Sibillae Eritheae, 126, 129 veils (veli), 74, 96, 172, 203–4 Velásquez, Diego, 21 Ventrone, Paola, 156 Venus, 254; with blonde hair, 91; Botticelli’s re­finement of classical models, 77; classical form of, 77, 87; clothing, 98; concealment of sex, 77, 78, 83–84; described in Poliziano’s poetry, 77–78, 83–84; hair adornments, 98; movement of, 89–90; pressing seawater from hair, 77, 78, 83; proportions of, 90; Simonetta as, 114.

382

Index See also Birth of Venus (Botticelli); Mars and Venus (Botticelli) Venus Anadyomene, 78, 86–87 Venus Anadyomene (Apelles), 5 Venus Anadyomene (Titian), 83 Venus de’ Medici, 79 Venus pudica (modest Venus), 77, 83, 87 vernacular courtly de­scrip­tions (descriptio pulchritudinis), 54; of beauty, 31–32, 44, 54, 91–92; of Madonnas, 54, 61; mythology, 109; transmitted from France to Italy, 53 vernacular courtly poetry, 41–42 vernacular culture: beauty described in, 28, 31–32; classical assimilation and, 70–71; courtly lyric, 35; Early Renaissance and, 24; expression of lived experience, 42– 43; French conventions, 73; love, expression of, 43; painting, 69– 70; preaching in common tongue, 27; Renaissance art and, 1, 4, 24, 26–27; St. Francis and, 27–28; Venus Anadyomene (Apelles) and, 5 vernacular language: in courtly poetry, 42; inscriptions, 49, 70; Poli­ ziano’s poetry, 77 vernacular sibylline octaves, 220–41, 250–63; A-B edition, 222–40; D’Ancona edition, 220–21; engraver’s errors in, 258; or­ga­ni­za­ tion of, 220. See also sibylline octaves Verrocchio, Andrea del, 145, 167, 190; bust of Giuliano de’ Medici, 113; Head of a Young Woman, 98, 103

vespai (“wasp’s nests”), 96–97 Vespucci, Giorgio Antonio, 138 Vespucci, Marco, 91–91 Vierge d’orée, 50 Villani, Filippo, 13, 43 Vincent of Beauvais, 124 Vinsauf, Geoffrey de, 28, 31 Virgil, 125, 141, 172, 251; Riccardiana Virgil, 172 Virgin: sibyls’ prophecies about, 134– 35; Tiburtine sibyl and, 129 Virgin and Child (unknown artist), 51 Virgin’s Wedding Procession, The (Giotto di Bondone), 27, 29 Virgo, 258–62 virtue: beauty and, 41; in Portrait of Ginevra de’Benci (Leonardo da Vinci), 42 virtues, 222 Visconti, Filippo Maria, duke of Milan, 137 Vita del beato Giovanni Colombini, 135 Vita nuova (Dante), 3 Vitale da Bologna, 61, 73 volksprachliche Gebildeten (vernacular painting), 69–70 Vulgate Bible, 242 Wagner, Robert, 25 Warburg, Aby, 2, 4, 23–24, 32, 70, 78, 88–90, 107, 110, 203, 204 “wasp’s nests” (vespai), 96–97 William the Astrologer, 261 wimples, 61 Winckelmann, Johann Joachim, 13, 14, 17–21, 23, 87–89 Wind, Edgar, 23 Wise Men, 262

383

Index ­women: adornments, 96–98, 101–2; armored, 102; clothing, 172; cosmetics, 95–96; effictio (external beauty), 35; provoking, 98; virtue, 41

Zacharias, 125 Zanobi, Dominico di, 171 Zechariah, 247 Zephaniah (Sophonias), 221, 248, 249 Zucker, Mark, 162, 166, 189

Young, Karl, 242–44 Young Woman in Mythological Guise, A (Botticelli), 91–91, 96

384