irth, describing her blown to earth over the
sea by the breath of the Zephyrs, and welcomed there by the Hours,
one of whom offers her a robe. This, Botticelli translates into
exquisite tempera with a wealth of pretty thoughts. The cornflowers
and daisies on the Hour's dress are alone a perennial joy.
Simonetta as Venus has some of the wistfulness of the Madonnas;
and not without reason does Botticelli give her this expression, for
her days were very short. In the "Primavera," which we are to see at
the Accademia, but which must be described here, we find Simonetta
again but we do not see her first. We see first that slender upright
commanding figure, all flowers and youth and conquest, in her lovely
floral dress, advancing over the grass like thistle-down. Never
before in painting had anything been done at once so distinguished
and joyous and pagan as this. For a kindred emotion one had to go to
Greek sculpture, but Botticelli, while his grace and joy are Hellenic,
was intensely modern too: the problems of the Renaissance, the tragedy
of Christianity, equally cloud his brow.
The symbolism of the "Primavera" is interesting. Glorious Spring is
returning to earth--in the presence of Venus--once more to make all
glad, and with her her attendants to dance and sing, and the Zephyrs
to bring the soft breezes; and by Spring Botticelli meant the reign
of Lorenzo, whose tournament motto was "Le temps revient". Simonetta
is again the central figure, and never did Botticelli paint more
exquisitely than here. Her bosom is the prettiest in Florence; the
lining of her robe over her right arm has such green and blue and
gold as never were seen elsewhere; her golden sandals are delicate
as gossamer. Over her head a little cupid hovers, directing his arrow
at Mercury, on the extreme left, beside the three Graces.
In Mercury, who is touching the trees with his caduceus and
bidding them burgeon, some see Giuliano de' Medici, who was not yet
betrothed. But when the picture was painted both Giuliano and Simonetta
were dead: Simonetta first, of consumption, in 1476, and Giuliano, by
stabbing in 1478. Lorenzo, who was at Pisa during Simonetta's illness,
detailed his own physician for her care. On hearing of her death he
walked out into the night and noticed for the first time a brilliant
star. "See," he said, "either the soul of that most gentle lady
hath been transferred into that new star or else hath it been joined
together thereunto
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