praise the singers of great deeds are despised. If this had not been the case we should not now mourn the loss of so many Greek and Latin writers. With them have also perished many of our own old poets, who had begun to cultivate the desert fields of the Tuscan tongue, which now again, in our century, are covered with wild flowerets and weeds. But thy gracious hand, Illustrious Federigo, which thou hast deigned extend to them will, after their long struggle, lead them safely into port. When we were together last year in the ancient city of Pisa we spoke of those who had written poetry in the Tuscan tongue, and thy Lordship expressed a desire that I should collect their works in one volume for thee. Being desirous in this, as in all other matters, to fulfil thy wishes I have, not without great labour, caused search to be made for the works of all the old poets, and choosing the less rugged pieces have gathered them into the volume I now send thy Lordship, in the hopes that my efforts, such as they are, may please and that thou wilt accept it in memory of me and as a proof of my true affection. Let no one, however, despise this Tuscan tongue as unadorned or diffuse. For if its richness and beauty be rightly understood it will not be accounted rugged but rich and refined. There is nothing delicate, elegant, graceful, or ornate, nothing witty, ingenious or subtle, nothing ample and rich, nothing magnificent and sonorous, finally nothing ardent, bold, or moving, that is not found in those two magnates Dante and Petrarch, and even in others of whom thou, my Lord, didst cite brilliant examples. Poetry (according to what Petrarch writes in a Latin epistle) was held in high honour by the old Romans, and after long neglect appeared again in Sicily not so many centuries ago; then passing into France finally came to Italy as though to its own home. The first who courted the new style was Guittone of Arezzo, and about the same time the famous Bolognese, Guido Guizzinello. Both were learned in philosophy, serious, and sententious. The first rather harsh and severe and without the gift of eloquence, the second far more lucid, suave, and ornate, so that our honoured Dante did not scruple to call him his father and also father of others who wrote love songs of great sweetness and charm. He was certainly the first to colour and soften our language, which had only been roughly sketched out by the rude Aretine. After them emerged the elegant Florentine, Guido Cavalcanti, a subtle logician and philosopher, an honour to his age. As he was handsome and graceful in person and of most noble blood, so there was in his writings something, I know not what, more beautiful, noble, and rare, than in others. Acute in reasoning, sonorous, admirable, and grave in his sentences, rich and elevated in composition, wise and prudent; and all these gifts are enhanced, and as clothed in a precious garment, by a rare and exquisite style.