forerunner in the Sixth Canto of the 'Purgatorio.' There was also actually an elopement of this troubadour with a daughter of Eccelino il Monaco; but it was the Cunizza, introduced into the Ninth Canto of the 'Paradiso,' and not her half-sister, Palma, whose name was probably substituted by Browning for the sake of euphony. One of the real Sordello's extant poems contains the passage which I have freely translated thus: 'I love a lady, fair without a peer, Serve her I'd rather, though she ne'er requite But should it come, her pleasure still is mine.' 39 LURIA. AT T the beginning of the fifteenth century Florence was striving to conquer Pisa and Lucca, the last strongholds of the Tuscan Ghibellines. Florentine generals had so often been tempted by success to usurpation, that the Republic usually employed mercenaries to lead her troops, and the command was now entrusted to a young Moor named Luria, who had won so many victories over the Pisan and Lucchese armies that one more battle seemed likely to end the war. His movements were closely watched by Braccio, a Florentine civilian who was sent as Commissioner for the Republic to direct him. This Italian was determined that brute force should not rule Florence, but intellect govern her; vicious intellect if this must be, but intellect at all events, for thus the way would remain open for virtuous intellect to mount her rightful throne. It seemed to him incredible that a mere mercenary, bound to Florence by no common faith or kindred blood, no ties of past or future, should prove more trusty than her own sons had been. So he thought it only a prudent precaution to accuse Luria of treachery to the Republic, and thus provide, that as soon as he had conquered Pisa and Lucca, he should be removed from his place, and this should then be given back to Puccio, a Florentine soldier who had been deprived of it in order to make room for the Moor. Braccio did not inform Puccio of this plan, but kept him in readiness for it as second in command, and easily drew from his jealousy of his successful rival, materials for formal accusations against Luria, who seemed to his critics too careless of the interests of Florence and too courteous towards the Pisan general, Tiburzio. To this antagonist the Moor, for instance, had sent back one of Pisa's best battalions, which had laid down its arms on account of misunderstanding its general's signals. Luria took all the less pains to avoid misconstruction, because he loved Florence devotedly, not merely out of gratitude for the honour and trust which she had given him, but also out of admiration for the vigour with which the mother of Dante and Boccaccio, Cimabue, Giotto, Gaddi, Orcagna, Donatello, Ghiberti, and Brunelleschi, was then leading all the rest of Europe out of medieval darkness into the rosy dawn of modern literature, philosophy, and art, rearing her cathedral and palaces, bidding the statue ascend to dwell in its niche, and the painter's brush people her walls, causing the long-forgotten voices of the bards and sages of Greece and Rome to be heard once more, and calling out a crowd of eager adventurers, not only to imitate the ancient models, but to Indeed Luria felt so artistic pre-eminence win fresh laurels in new paths. confident of the literary and which was actually attained by Florence, as soon as she was at peace, that he used often to express his hope that he might not be shut out from enjoying it, and threaten, jestingly, that he should then be dangerous. It was especially unfortunate for his reputation with his employers, that he had fallen in love with Domizia, a noble Florentine lady who was eager to revenge her father and brothers, recently ruined by false charges of disloyalty. She had come to the camp, partly because a party hostile to Braccio had desired to post her as a spy on him, and partly because he had himself secretly laboured for the same end, in his wish not to lose her from his sight. Nothing but friendship had been avowed by either her or Luria, but she kept praising his services to the Republic, and warning him that his predecessors had been treated with ingratitude. Thus Braccio's suspicions were whetted constantly, and his secret despatches to the Signory who ruled Florence filled with complaints of Luria's treachery. Indeed, he urged on the trial all the more vigorously, because the campaign seemed likely soon to end in a crowning victory for Florence. Such is the state of things on the day when Luria's trial in Florence and his warfare against her enemies are to end together. Pisa's last army is drawn up, ready to meet the Florentines, but the generals on both sides delay joining battle. Reinforcements are expected from Lucca, and their coming either will enable Luria to gain a decisive victory, or else will make Pisa strong enough to escape from instant ruin. Braccio sends off that morning, by different roads, two copies of a letter, urging the Signory to condemn the Moor at once, despite the protestations of Jacopo, the Commissioner's secretary, who assures his master that the city is safe, if only for Domizia's sake, and that Luria believes in Florence, as the saint tied to the wheel believes in God. Noon comes, and Luria is about to follow Braccio's directions and attack the Pisans, when their general, Tiburzio, visits him as an envoy, and says, 'You know our danger. There is scarcely a chance of our winning this battle. If we lose it, Pisa falls. Now, if you, who threaten us, were a son of Florence, and yet endowed with all your present nobleness, the news I must communicate would not detach you from her.' 'Detach me?' exclaims Luria, indignantly. 'You think you know Florence,' answers the Pisan. 'I know her so well, I have found out from her Commissioner's secret despatches, which I have captured on the road from time to time, that her |