To return to Monti:--no man had more completely that temperament which is supposed to accompany genius. He was fond, and devoted in his domestic relations; but he was variable in spirits, ardent, restless, and subject to fits of gloom. And how often must the literary disputes and political _tracasseries_ in which he was engaged, have embittered and irritated so susceptible a mind and temper! If his wife were at his side to soothe him with her music, and her smiles, and her tenderness,--it was well,--the cloud passed away. If she were absent, every suffering seemed aggravated, and we find him--like one spoiled and pampered, with attention and love,--yielding to an irritable despondency, which even the presence of his children could not alleviate. Che piu ti resta a far per mio dispetto, Sorte crudel? mia donna e lungi, e io privo, De' suoi conforti in miserando aspetto Egro qui giaccio, al' sofferir sol vivo![91] But the most remarkable of all Monti's conjugal effusions, is a canzone written a short time before his death, and when he was more than seventy years of age. Nothing can be more affecting than the subdued tone of melancholy tenderness, with which the grey-haired poet apostrophises her who had been the love, the pride, the joy of his life for forty years. In power and in poetry, this canzone will bear a comparison with many of the more rapturous effusions of his youth. The occasion on which it was composed is thus related in a note prefixed to it by the editor.[92] When Monti was recovering from a long and dangerous illness, through which he had been tenderly nursed by his wife and daughter, he accompanied them "in villeggiatura," to a villa near Brianza, the residence of a friend, where they were accustomed to celebrate the birth-day of Madame Monti; and it was here that her husband, now declining in years, weak from recent illness and accumulated infirmities, addressed to her the poem which may be found in the recent edition of his works; it begins thus tenderly and sweetly-- Donna! dell' alma mia parte piu cara! Perche muta in pensosa atto mi guati? E di segrete stille, Rugiadose si fan le tue pupille? &c. "Why, O thou dearer half of my soul, dost thou watch over me thus mute and pensive? Why are thine eyes heavy with suppressed tears?" &c. And when he reminds her touchingly, that his long and troubled life is drawing to its natural close, and that she cannot hope to retain him much longer, even by all her love and care,--he adds with a noble spirit,--"Remember, that Monti cannot wholly die! think, O think! I leave thee dowered with no obscure, no vulgar name! for the day shall come, when, among the matrons of Italy, it shall be thy boast to say,--"I was the love of Monti.""[93] The tender transition to his daughter-- E tu del pari sventurata e cara mia figlia!