fancied more than others. The first of these was
Laura Peperara, for whom he is supposed to have produced some sixty
compositions. The second was the Princess Leonora d'Este. Tasso's
attachment to her has been so shrouded in mystery, conjecture and
hair-splitting criticism, that none but a very rash man will pronounce
confident judgment as to its real nature. Nearly the same may be said
about his relations to her sister, Lucrezia. He has posed in literary
history as the Rizzio of the one lady and the Chastelard of the other.
Yet he was probably in no position at any moment of his Ferrarese
existence to be more than the familiar friend and most devoted slave of
either. When he joined the Court, Lucrezia was ten and Leonora nine
years his senior. Each of the sisters was highly accomplished, graceful
and of royal carriage. Neither could boast of eminent beauty. Of the
two, Lucrezia possessed the more commanding character. It was she who
left her husband, Francesco Maria della Rovere, because his society
wearied her, and who helped Clement VIII. to ruin her family, when the
Papacy resolved upon the conquest of Ferrara. Leonora's health was
sickly. For this reason she refused marriage, living retired in studies,
acts of charity, religion, and the company of intellectual men.
Something in her won respect and touched the heart at the same moment;
so that the verses in her honor, from whatever pen they flowed, ring
with more than merely ceremonial compliment. The people revered her like
a saint; and in times of difficulty she displayed high courage and the
gifts of one born to govern. From the first entrance of Tasso into
Ferrara, the sisters took him under their protection. He lived with them
on terms of more than courtly intimacy; and for Leonora there is no
doubt that he cherished something like a romantic attachment. This is
proved by the episode of Sofronia and Olindo in the _Gerusalemme_, which
points in carefully constructed innuendoes to his affection. It can
even be conceded that Tasso, who was wont to indulge fantastic visions
of unattainable greatness, may have raised his hopes so high as
sometimes to entertain the possibility of winning her hand. But if he
did dally with such dreams, the realities of his position must in sober
moments have convinced him of their folly. Had not a Duchess of Amalfi
been murdered for contracting a marriage with a gentleman of her
household? And Leonora was a grand-daughter of France; an