Cino da Pistoia enjoyed the double reputation of being the greatest doctor and teacher of the civil law, and most famous poet of his time. He was also remarkable for his personal accomplishments and his love of pleasure. There is a sonnet which Dante addressed to Cino, reproaching him with being inconstant and volatile in love.[21] Apparently, this was after the death of the beautiful Ricciarda dei Selvaggi; or, as he calls her, his Selvaggia: she was of a noble family of Pistoia, her father having been gonfaliere, and leader of the faction of the Bianchi; and she was also celebrated for her poetical talents. It appears from a little madrigal of hers, which has been preserved, that though she tenderly returned the affection of her lover, it was without the knowledge of her haughty family. It is not distinguished for poetic power, but has at least the charm of perfect frankness and simplicity, and a kind of _abandon_ that is quite bewitching. A MESSER CINO DA PISTOJA. Gentil mio sir, lo parlare amoroso Di voi sì in allegranza mi mantene, Che dirvel non poria, ben lo sacciate; Perchè del mio amor sete giojoso, Di ciò grand' allegria e gio' mi vene, Ed altro mai non haggio in volontate, Fuor del vostro piacere; Tutt' hora fate la vostra voglienza: Haggiate previdenza Voi, di celar la nostra desienza. "My gentle love and lord! those tender words Of thine so fill my conscious heart with joy, --I cannot speak it--but thou know'st it well; Wherefore do thou rejoice in that deep love I bear thee, knowing that I have no thought But to fulfil thy will and crown thy wish: --Watch thou--and hide our mutual hope from all!" Meantime the parents of Ricciarda were exiled from Pistoia, by the faction of the Neri. They took refuge from their enemies in a little fortress among the Appenines, whither Cino followed them, and was received as a comforter amid their distresses. Probably the days passed in this dreary abode, among the wild and solitary hills, when he assisted Ricciarda in her household duties, and in aiding and consoling her parents, were among the happiest of his life; but the winter came, and with it many privations and many hardships. Their mountain retreat was ill calculated to defend them against the fury of the elements: Ricciarda drooped under the pressure of misery and want, and her parents and her lover watched the gradual extinction of life--saw the rose-hue fade from her cheek, and the light from her eye, till she melted from their arms into death; then they buried her with tears, in a nook among the mountains.