VOLUME XIV SLICE VIII Isabnormal Lines to Italic (continued 4)

[3. Vegliote (Veglioto).—Perhaps we may not be considered to be departing from Ascoli’s original plan if we insert here as a third member of the group B the neo-Latin dialect which found its last refuge in the island of Veglia (Gulf of Quarnero), where it came definitively to an end in 1898. The Vegliote dialect is the last remnant of a language which some long time ago extended from thence along the Dalmatian coast, whence it gained the name of Dalmatico, a language which should be carefully distinguished from the Venetian dialect spoken to this day in the towns of the Dalmatian littoral. Its character reminds us in many ways of Rumanian, and of that type of Romano-Balkan dialect which is represented by the Latin elements of Albanian, but to a certain extent also, and especially with regard to the vowel sounds, of the south-eastern dialects of Italy, while it has also affinities with Friuli, Istria and Venetia. These characteristics taken altogether seem to suggest that Dalmatico differs as much as does Sardinian from the purely Italian type. It rejects the -s, it is true, retaining instead the nominative form in the plural; but here these facts are no longer a criterion, since in this point Italian and Rumanian are in agreement. A tendency which we have already noted, and shall have further cause to note hereafter, and which connects in a striking way the Vegliote and Abruzzo-Apulian dialects, consists in reducing the accented vowels to diphthongs: examples of this are: spuota, Ital. spada; buarka, Ital. barca; fiar, Ital. fȩrro; nuat, Ital. notte; kataina, Ital. catḛna; paira, Ital. pḛro; Lat. pĭru; jaura, Ital. ǫra; nauk, Ital. noce; Lat. nŭce; ortaika, Ital. ortica; joiva, Ital. uova. Other vowel phenomena should also be noted, for example those exemplified in prut, Ital. prato; dik, Ital. dieci, Lat. dĕcem; luk, Ital. luogo, Lat. lŏcu; krask, Ital. crḛscere; cenk, Ital. cinque, Lat. quīnque; buka, Ital. bocca, Lat. bčca. With regard to the consonants, we should first notice the invariable persistence of the explosive surds (as in Rumanian and the southern dialects) for which several of the words just cited will serve as examples, with the addition of kuosa, Ital. casa; praiza, Ital. presa; struota, Ital. strada; rosuota, Ital. rugiada; latri, Ital. ladro; raipa, Ital. riva. The c in the formula ce, whether primary or secondary, is represented by k: kaina, Ital. cena; kanaisa, Ital. cinigia; akait, Ital. aceto; plakár, Ital. piacere; dik, Ital. dieci; mukna, Ital. macina; dotko, Ital. dodici; and similarly the g in the formula ge is represented by the corresponding guttural: ghelút, Ital. gelato; jongár, Ital. giungere; plungre, Ital. piangere, &c. On the contrary, the guttural of the primitive formula cū becomes ć (ćol, Ital. culo); this phenomenon is also noteworthy as seeming to justify the inference that the ū was pronounced ü. Pt is preserved, as in Rumanian (sapto, Lat. septem), and often, again as in Rumanian, ct is also reduced to pt (guapto, Lat. octo). As to morphology, a characteristic point is the preservation of the Lat. cantavero, Ital. avrò cantato, in the function of a simple future. Cantaverum also occurs as a conditional. For Vegliote and Dalmatico in general, see M. G. Bartoli’s fundamental work, Das Dalmatische (2 vols., Vienna, 1906), and Zeitschrift für roman. Philologie, xxxii. 1 sqq.; Merlo, Rivista di filologia e d’istruzione class, xxxv. 472 sqq. A short document written about 1280 in the Dalmatic dialect of Ragusa is to be found in Archeografo Triestino, new series, vol. i. pp. 85-86.]

C. Dialects which diverge more or less from the genuine Italian or Tuscan type, but which at the same time can be conjoined with the Tuscan as forming part of a special system of Neo-Latin dialects.

1. Venetian.—Between “Venetian” and “Venetic” several distinctions must be drawn (Arch. i. 391 sqq.). At the present day the population of the Venetian cities is “Venetian” in language, but the country districts are in various ways Venetic.6 The ancient language of Venice itself and of its estuary was not a little different from that of the present time; and the Ladin vein was particularly evident (see A. 2). A more purely Italian vein—the historical explanation of which presents an attractive problem—has ultimately gained the mastery and determined the “Venetian” type which has since diffused itself so vigorously.—In the Venetian, then, we do not find the most distinctive characteristics of the dialects of Upper Italy comprised under the denomination Gallo-Italic (see B. 1),—neither the ü nor the ö, nor the velar7 and faucal nasals, nor the Gallic resolution of the ct, nor the frequent elision of unaccented vowels, nor the great redundancy of pronouns. On the contrary, the pure Italian diphthong of ṍ (e.g. cuór) is heard, and the diphthong of ế is in full currency (diéśe, dieci, &c.). Nevertheless the Venetian approaches the type of Northern Italy, or diverges notably from that of Central Italy, by the following phonetic phenomena: the ready elision of primary or secondary d (crúo, crudo; séa, seta, &c.); the regular reduction of the surd into the sonant guttural (e.g. cuogo, Ital. cuoco, coquus); the pure ć in the resolution of cl (e.g. ćave, clave; oréća, auricula); the ś for ģ (śóvene, Ital. giovane); ç for š and ć (péçe, Ital. pesce; çiél, Ital. cielo). Lj preceded by any vowel, primary or secondary, except i, gives ģ: faméga, familia. No Italian dialect is more averse than the Venetian to the doubling of consonants.—In the morphology the use of the 3rd singular for the 3rd plural also, the analogical participle in esto (taśesto, Ital. taciuto, &c.; see Arch. iv. 393, sqq.) and śe, Lat. est, are particularly noteworthy. A curious double relic of Ladin influence is the interrogative type represented by the example crédis-tu, credis tu,—where apart from the interrogation ti credi would be used. For other ancient sources relating to Venice, the estuary of Venice, Verona and Padua, see Arch. i. 448, 465, 421-422; iii. 245-247. [Closely akin to Venetian, though differing from it in about the same degree that the various Gallo-Italian dialects differ among one another, is the indigenous dialect of Istria, now almost entirely ousted by Venetian, and found in a few localities only (Rovigno, Dignano). The most salient characteristics of Istrian can be recognized in the treatment of the accented vowels, and are of a character which recalls, to a certain extent at least, the Vegliote dialect. Thus we have in Istrian i for ệ (bivi, Ital. bevi, Lat. bĭbis; tila, Ital. tḛla; viro, Ital. vero and vetro, Lat. vēru, vĭtru; nito, Ital. netto, Lat. nĭtĭdu, &c.) and analogously u for ǫ (fiur, Ital. fiore, Lat. flōre; bus, Ital. voce, Lat. vōce, &c.); ei and ou from the Lat. ī and ū respectively (ameigo, Lat. amicu, feil, Lat. fīlu, &c.; mour, Lat. mūru; noudu, Lat. nūdu; frouto, Ital. frutto, Lat. frūctu, &c.); ie and uo from ĕ and ŏ respectively in position (piel, Lat. pĕlle, mierlo, Ital. merlo, Lat. mĕrula; kuorno, Lat. cŏrnu; puorta, Lat. pŏrta), a phenomenon in which Istrian resembles not only Vegliote but also Friulian. The resemblance with Verona, in the reduction of final unaccented -e to o should also be noted (nuoto, Ital. notte, &c., bivo, Ital. beve; malamȩntro, Ital. malamente, &c.), and that with Belluno and Treviso in the treatment of -óni, -áni (barbói, -oin, Ital. barboni), though it is peculiar to Istrian that -ain should give -ȩṅ (kaṅ, kȩṅ, Ital. cane -i). With regard to consonants, we should point out the n for gn (líno, Ital. legno); and as to morphology, we should note certain survivals of the inflexional type, amita, -ánis (sing. sía, Ital. zia, pl. siaṅne).] The most ancient Venetian documents take us back to the first half of the 13th century (v. E. Bertanza and V. Lazzarini, Il Dialetto veneziano fino alla morte di Dante Alighieri, Venice, 1891), and to the second half of the same century seems to belong the Saibante MS. For Verona we have also documents of the 13th century (v. Cipolla, in Archivio storico italiano, 1881 and 1882); and to the end of the same century perhaps belongs the MS. which has preserved for us the writings of Giacomino da Verona. See also Archivio glottologico, i. 448, 465, 421-422, iii. 245-247.

2. Corsican8—If the “Venetian,” in spite of its peculiar “Italianity,” has naturally special points of contact with the other dialects of Upper Italy (B. 1), the Corsican in like manner, particularly in its southern varieties, has special points of contact with Sardinian proper (B. 2). In general, it is in the southern section of the island, which, geographically even, is farthest removed from Tuscany, that the most characteristic forms of speech are found. The unaccented vowels are undisturbed; but u for the Tuscan o is common to almost all the island,—an insular phenomenon par excellence which connects Corsica with Sardinia and with Sicily, and indeed with Liguria also. So also -i for the Tuscan -e (latti, latte; li cateni, le catene), which prevails chiefly in the southern section, is also found in Northern and Southern Sardinian, and is common to Sicily. It is needless to add that this tendency to u and i manifests itself, more or less decidedly, also within the words. Corsican, too, avoids the diphthongs of ế and ṍ (pe, eri; cori, fora): but, unlike Sardinian, it treats ḯ and ṹ in the Italian fashion: beju, bibo; péveru, piper; pesci; noci, nuces.9—It is one of its characteristics to reduce a to e in the formula ar + a consonant (chérne, bérba, &c.), which should be compared particularly with the Piedmontese examples of the same phenomenon (Arch. ii. 133, 144-150). But the gerund in -endu of the first conjugation (turnendu, lagrimendu, &c.) must on the contrary be considered as a phenomenon of analogy, as it is especially recognized in the Sardinian dialects, to all of which it is common (see Arch. ii. 133). And the same is most probably the case with forms of the present participle like merchente, mercante, in spite of enzi and innenzi (anzi, innanzi), in which latter forms there may probably be traced the effect of the Neo-Latin i which availed to reduce the t of the Latin ante; alongside of them we find also anzi and nantu. But cf. also, grȩndi, Ital. grande. In Southern Corsican dr for ll is conspicuous—a phenomenon which also connects Corsica with Sardinia, Sicily and a good part of Southern Italy (see C. 2; and Arch. ii. 135, &c.), also with the northern coast of Tuscany, since examples such as beḍḍu belong also to Carrara and Montignoso. In the Ultramontane variety occur besides, the phenomena of rn changed to r (= rr) and of nd becoming nn (furu, Ital. forno; koru, Ital. corno; kuannu, Ital. quando; vidennu, Ital. vedendo). The former of these would connect Corsican with Sardinian (corru, cornu; carre, carne, &c.); the latter more especially with Sicily, &c. A particular connexion with the central dialects is given by the change of ld into ll (kallu, Ital. caldo).—As to phonetic phenomena connected with syntax, already noticed in B. 2, space admits the following examples only: Cors, na vella, una bella, e bella (ebbélla, et bella); lu jallu, lo gallo, gran ghiallu; cf. Arch. ii. 136 (135, 150), xiv. 185. As Tommaseo has already noted, -one is for the Corsicans not less than for the Sicilians, Calabrians and the French a termination of diminution: e.g. fratedronu, fratellino.—In the first person of the conditional the b is maintained (e.g. farebe, farei), as even at Rome and elsewhere. Lastly, the series of Corsican verbs of the derivative order which run alongside of the Italian series of the original order, and may be represented by the example dissipeghja, dissipa (Falcucci), is to be compared with the Sicilian series represented by cuadiari, riscaldare, curpiári, colpire (Arch. ii. 151).

3. Dialects of Sicily and of the Neapolitan Provinces.—Here the territories on both sides of the Strait of Messina will first be treated together, chiefly with the view of noting their common linguistic peculiarities.—Characteristic then of these parts, as compared with Upper Italy and even with Sardinia, is, generally speaking, the tenacity of the explosive elements of the Latin bases (cf. Arch. ii. 154, &c.). Not that these consonants are constantly preserved uninjured; their degradations, and especially the Neapolitan degradation of the surd into the sonant, are even more frequent than is shown by the dialect as written, but their disappearance is comparatively rather rare; and even the degradations, whether regard be had to the conjunctures in which they occur or to their specific quality, are very different from those of the dialects of Upper Italy. Thus, the t between vowels ordinarily remains intact in Sicilian and Neapolitan (e.g. Sicil. sita, Neap. seta, seta, where in the dialects of Upper Italy we should have seda, sea); and in the Neapolitan dialects it is reduced to d when it is preceded by n or r (e.g. viendę, vento), which is precisely a collocation in which the t would be maintained intact in Upper Italy. The d, on the other hand, is not resolved by elision, but by its reduction to r (e.g. Sicil. víriri, Neap. dialects veré, vedere), a phenomenon which has been frequently compared, perhaps with too little caution, with the d passing into rs (ḍ) in the Umbrian inscriptions. The Neapolitan reduction of nt into nd has its analogies in the reduction of nc (nk) into ng, and of mp into mb, which is also a feature of the Neapolitan dialects, and in that of ns into nź; and here and there we even find a reduction of nf into mb (nf, nv, nb, mb), both in Sicilian and Neapolitan (e.g. at Casteltermini in Sicily ’mbiernu, inferno, and in the Abruzzi cumbonn’, ’mbonn’, confondere, infondere). Here we find ourselves in a series of phenomena to which it may seem that some special contributions were furnished by Oscan and Umbrian (nt, mp, nc into nd, &c.), but for which more secure and general, and so to say “isothermal,” analogies are found in modern Greek and Albanian. The Sicilian does not appear to fit in here as far as the formulae nt and mp are concerned; and it may even be said to go counter to this tendency by reducing nģ and nź to nć, nz (e.g. púnćiri, pungere; menzu, Ital. meźźo; sponza, Ital. spugna, Ven. sponźa).10 Nay, even in the passing of the sonant into the surd, the Neapolitan dialects would yield special and important contributions (nor is even the Sicilian limited to the case just specified), among which we will only mention the change of d between vowels into t in the last syllable of proparoxytones (e.g. úmmeto, Sicil. úmitu, umido), and in the formula dr (Sicil. and Neap. quatro, Ital. quadro, &c.). From these series of sonants changing into surds comes a peculiar feature of the southern dialects.—A pretty common characteristic is the regular progressive assimilation by which nd is reduced to nn, ṅg to ṅṅ, mb to mm, and even nv also to mm (nv, nb, mb, mm), e.g. Sicil. šínniri, Neap. šénnere, scendere; Sicil. chiummu, Neap. chiummę, piombo; Sicil. and Neap. ’mmidia, invidia; Sicil. sáṅṅu, sangue. As belonging to this class of phenomena the Palaeo-Italic analogy (nd into nn, n), of which the Umbrian furnishes special evidence, readily suggests itself. Another important common characteristic is the reduction of secondary pj fj into kj (chianu -ę, Sicil., Neap., &c., Ital. piano), š (Sicil. šúmi, Neap. šúmmę, fiume), of secondary bj to j (which may be strengthened to ghj) if initial (Sicil. jancu, Neap. janchę, bianco; Sicil. agghianchiari, imbiancare), to l if between vowels (Neap. neglia, nebbia, Sicil. nigliu, nibbio); of primary pj and bj into ć (Sicil. síćća, Neap. séćća, seppia) or ģ respectively (Sicil. raģģa, Neap. arraģģa, rabbia), for which phenomena see also Genoese (B. 1). Further is to be noted the tendency to the sibilation of cj, for which Sicil. jazzu, ghiaccio, may serve as an example (Arch. ii. 149),—a tendency more particularly betrayed in Upper Italy, but Abruzzan departs from it (cf. Abr. jacce, ghiaccio, vracce, braccio, &c.). There is a common inclination also to elide the initial unaccented palatal vowel, and to prefix a, especially before r (this second tendency is found likewise in Southern Sardinian, &c.; see Arch. ii. 138); e.g. Sicil. ’nténniri, Neap. ’ndénnere, intendere; Sicil. arriccamári, Neap. arragamare, ricamare (see Arch. ii. 150). Throughout the whole district, and the adjacent territories in Central Italy, a tendency also prevails towards resolving certain combinations of consonants by the insertion of a vowel; thus combinations in which occur r or l, w or j (Sicil. kiruci, Ital. croce, filágutu, Ital. flauto, salivari, salvare, váriva, Ital. barba; Abr. cálechene, Ital. ganghero, Salevèštre, Silvestro, fęulęmenándę, fulminante, jèreve, Ital. erba, &c.; Avellinese garamegna, gramigna; Neap. ávotro = *áwtro, Ital. áltro, cèvoza = *céwza, Ital. gelso, ajetá side by side with ajtá, Ital. età, ódejo = ódjo, Ital. odio, &c.; Abr. ’nnívęję, indiva, nệbbęję, nebbia, &c.); cattájeve = cattájve, cattivo, goúele = *gowle, gola, &c. &c., are examples from Molfetta, where is also normal the resolution of šk by šek (méšekere, maschera, šekátele, scatola, &c.); cf. seddegno, sdegno, in some dialects of the province of Avellino. In complete contrast to the tendency to get rid of double consonants which has been particularly noted in Venetian (C. 1), we here come to the great division of Italy where the tendency grows strong to gemination (or the doubling of consonants), especially in proparoxytones; and the Neapolitan in this respect goes farther than the Sicilian (e.g. Sicil. sóggiru, suocero, cínniri, cenere, doppu, dopo; ’nsemmula, insieme, in-simul; Neap. dellecato, dilicato; úmmeto, umido; débbole).—As to the phonetic phenomena connected with the syntax (see B. 2), it is sufficient to cite such Sicilian examples as nišuna ronna, nesuna donna, alongside of c’ é donni, c’ è donne; ćincu jorna, cinque giorni, alongside of chiú ghiorna, più giorni; and the Neapolitan la vocca, la bocca, alongside of a bocca, ad buccam, &c.

We now proceed to the special consideration, first, of the Sicilian and, secondly, of the dialects of the mainland.

(a) Sicilian.—The Sicilian vocalism is conspicuously etymological. Though differing in colour from the Tuscan, it is not less noble, and between the two there are remarkable points of contact. The dominant variety, represented in the literary dialect, ignores the diphthongs of ḗ and of ŏ, as it has been seen that they are ignored in Sardinia (B. 2), and here also the ĭ and the ŭ appear intact; but the ḗ and the ṓ are fittingly represented by i and u; and with equal symmetry unaccented e and o are reproduced by i and u. Examples: téni, tiene; nóvu, nuovo; pilu, pelo; miṅnitta, Ital. vendḛtta; jugu, giogo; agustu, Ital. agǫsto; crídiri, credere; vínniri, Ital. vēndere; sira, sera; vina, vena; suli, Ital. sole; ura, ora; furma, Ital. fǫrma. In the evolution of the consonants it is enough to add here the change of lj into ghj (e.g. fígghiu, Ital. figlio) and of ll into ḍḍ (e.g. gaḍḍu, Ital. gallo). As to morphology, we will confine ourselves to pointing out the masculine plurals of neuter form (li pastura, li marinara). For the Sicilian dialect we have a few fragments going back to the 13th century, but the documents are scanty until we come to the 14th century.

(b) Dialects of the Neapolitan Mainland.—The Calabrian (by which is to be understood more particularly the vernacular group of the two Further Calabrias) may be fairly considered as a continuation of the Sicilian type, as is seen from the following examples:—cori, cuore; petra; fímmina, femina; vuce, voce; unure, onore; figghiu, figlio; spadde, spalle; trizza, treccia. Both Sicilian and Calabrian is the reducing of rl to rr (Sicil. parrari, Cal. parrare, parlare, &c.). The final vowel -e is reduced to -i, but is preserved in the more southern part, as is seen from the above examples. Even the ḣ for š = fj, as in ḣuri (Sicil. šuri, fiore), which is characteristic in Calabrian, has its forerunners in the island (see Arch. ii. 456). And, in the same way, though the dominant varieties of Calabria seem to cling to the mb (it sometimes happens that mm takes the form of mb: imbiscare = Sicil. ’mmiscari ’immischiare’, &c.) and nd, as opposed to the mm, nn, of the whole of Southern Italy and Sicily, we must remember, firstly, that certain other varieties have, e.g. granne, Ital. grande, and chiummu, Ital. piombo; and secondly, that even in Sicily (at Milazzo, Barcelona, and as far as Messina) districts are to be found in which nd is used. Along the coast of the extreme south of Italy, when once we have passed the interruptions caused by the Basilisco type (so called from the Basilicata), the Sicilian vocalism again presents itself in the Otrantine, especially in the seaboard of Capo di Leuca. In the Lecce variety of the Otrantine the vocalism which has just been described as Sicilian also keeps its ground in the main (cf. Morosi, Arch. iv.): sira, sera; leítu, oliveto; pilu; ura, ora; dulure. Nay more, the Sicilian phenomenon of lj into ghj (figghiu, figlio, &c.) is well marked in Terra d’ Otranto and also in Terra di Bari, and even extends through the Capitanata and the Basilicata (cf. D’ Ovidio, Arch. iv. 159-160). As strongly marked in the Terra d’Otranto is the insular phenomenon of ll into ḍḍ (ḍr), which is also very widely distributed through the Neapolitan territories on the eastern side of the Apennines, sending outshoots even to the Abruzzo. But in Terra d’Otranto we are already in the midst of the diphthongs of ế and of ṍ, both non-positional and positional, the development or permanence of which is determined by the quality of the unaccented final vowel,—as generally happens in the dialects of the south. The diphthongs of ế and ṍ, determined by final -i and -u, are also characteristic of central and northern Calabria (viecchiu -i, vecchio -a, vecchia -e, vecchia -e; buonu -i, bona -e, &c. &c.). Thus there comes to be a treatment of the vowels, peculiar to the two peninsulas of Calabria and Salent. The diphthongal product of the o is here ue. The following are examples from the Lecce variety of the dialect: core, pl. cueri; metu, mieti, mete, mieto, mieti, miete (Lat. mĕtere); sentu, sienti, sente; olu, uéli, ola, volo, voli, vola; mordu, muerdi, morde. The ue recalls the fundamental reduction which belongs to the Gallic (not to speak of the Spanish) regions, and stretches through the north of the Terra di Bari, where there are other diphthongs curiously suggestive of the Gallic: e.g. at Bitonto alongside of luechę, luogo, suęnnę, sonno, we have the oi and the ai from i or ę of the previous phase (vęćoinę, vicino), and the au from o of the previous phase (anaurę, onore), besides a diphthongal disturbance of the á. Here also occurs the change of á into an e more or less pure (thus, at Cisternino, scunsulête, sconsolata; at Canosa di Puglia, arruête, arrivata; n-ghèpe, “in capa,” that is, in capo); to which may be added the continual weakening or elision of the unaccented vowels not only at the end but in the body of the word (thus, at Bitonto, vęndett, spranz). A similar type meets us as we cross into Capitanata (Cerignola: graitę and grēi-, creta (but also pęitę, piede, &c.), coutę, coda (but also fourę, fuorí, &c.); vǫinę, vino, and similarly pǫilę, pelo (Neap. pilo), &c.; fuękę, fuoco; carętätę, carità, parlä, parlare, &c.); such forms being apparently the outposts of the Abruzzan, which, however, is only reached through the Molise—a district not very populous even now, and still more thinly peopled in bygone days—whose prevailing forms of speech in some measure interrupt the historical continuity of the dialects of the Adriatic versant, presenting, as it were, an irruption from the other side of the Apennines. In the head valley of the Molise, at Agnone, the legitimate precursors of the Abruzzan vernaculars reappear (feáfa, fava, stufeáte and -uote, stufo, annojato, feá, fare; chiezza, piazza, chiegne, piangere, cuene, cane; puole, palo, pruote, prato, cuone, cane; veire and vaire, vero, moile, melo, and similarly voive and veive, vivo; deune, dono, deuva, doga; minaure, minore; cuerpe, corpo, but cuolle). The following are pure Abruzzan examples. (1) From Bucchianico (Abruzzo Citeriore): veivę, vivo; rraję, re; allaure, allora; craune, corona; circhê, cercare; mêlę, male; grênnę, grande; quênnę; but ’nsultate, insultata; strade, strada (where again it is seen that the reduction of the á depends on the quality of the final unaccented vowel, and that it is not produced exclusively by i, which would give rise to a further reduction: scillarite, scellerati; ampire, impári). (2) From Pratola Peligna (Abruzzo Ulteriore II.); maję, mia; ’naure, onore; ’njuriéte, inguriata; desperéte, disperata ( alongside of vennecá, vendicare). It almost appears that a continuity with Emilian11 ought to be established across the Marches (where another irruption of greater “Italianity” has taken place; a third of more dubious origin has been indicated for Venice, C. 1); see Arch. ii., 445. A negative characteristic for Abruzzan is the absence of the change in the third syllable of the combinations pl, bl, fl (into kj, j-, š) and the reason seems evident. Here the pj, bj and fj themselves appear to be modern or of recent reduction—the ancient formulae sometimes occurring intact (as in the Bergamasc for Upper Italy), e.g. plánje and pránje alongside of piánje, piagnere, branghe alongside of bianghe, bianco (Fr. blanc), flume and frume alongside fiume, fiume. To the south of the Abruzzi begins and in the Abruzzi grows prominent that contrast in regard to the formulae alt ald (resolved in the Neapolitan and Sicilian into aut, &c., just as in the Piedmontese, &c.), by which the types aldare, altare, and callę, caldo, are reached.12 For the rest, when the condition and connexions of the vowel system still retained by so large a proportion of the dialects of the eastern versant of the Neapolitan Apennines, and the difference which exists in regard to the preservation of the unaccented vowels between the Ligurian and the Gallo-Italic forms of speech on the other versant of the northern Apennines, are considered, one cannot fail to see how much justice there is in the longitudinal or Apenninian partition of the Italian dialects indicated by Dante.—But, to continue, in the Basilicata, which drains into the Gulf of Taranto, and may be said to lie within the Apennines, not only is the elision of final unaccented vowels a prevailing characteristic; there are also frequent elisions of the unaccented vowels within the word. Thus at Matera: sintenn la femn chessa côs, sentendo la femina questa cosa; disprât, disperata; at Saponara di Grumento: uomnn’ scilrati, uomini scellerati; mnetta, vendetta.—But even if we return to the Mediterranean versant and, leaving the Sicilian type of the Calabrias, retrace our steps till we pass into the Neapolitan pure and simple, we find that even in Naples the unaccented final vowels behave badly, the labial turning to ę (biellę, bello) and even the a (bellă) being greatly weakened. And here occurs a Palaeo-Italic instance which is worth mention: while Latin was accustomed to drop the u of its nominative only in presence of r (gener from *gener-u-s, vir from *vir-u-s; cf. the Tuscan or Italian apocopated forms véner = vénere, venner = vennero, &c.), Oscan and Umbrian go much farther: Oscan, hurz = *hort-u-s, Lat. hortus; Umbr. pihaz, piatus; emps, emptus, &c. In Umbrian inscriptions we find u alternating with the a of the nom. sing. fem. and plur. neut. In complete contrast with the Sicilian vocalism is the Neapolitan e for unaccented and particularly final i of the Latin and Neo-Latin or Italian phases (e.g. viene, vieni; cf. infra), to say nothing further of the regular diphthongization, within certain limits, of accented e or o in position (apiertę, aperto, fem. aperta; muortę, morto, fem. morta, &c.).—In the quasi-morphological domain it is to be noted how the Siculo-Calabrian u for the ancient ṓ and ŭ, and the Siculo-Calabrian i for the ancient ḗ, ḯ, are also still found in the Neapolitan, and, in particular, that they alternate with o and e in a manner that is determined by the difference of termination. Thus cosetore, cucitore, pl. coseture (i.e. coseturi, the -i passing into e in keeping with the Neapolitan characteristic already mentioned); russę, Ital. rosso, -i; rossa -ę, Ital. rossa -e; noće, noce, pl. nuce; credę, io credo; cride (*cridi), tu credi; crede, egli crede; nigrę, but negra.

Passing now to a cursory mention of purely morphological phenomena, we begin with that form which is referred to the Latin pluperfect (see A. 1, B. 2), but which here too performs the functions of the conditional. Examples from the living dialects of (1) Calabria Citeriore are faceru, farei (Castrovillari); tu te la collerre, tu te l’acolleresti (Cosenza); l’aććettéra, l’accetterebbe (Grimaldi); and from those of (2) the Abruzzi, vulér’, vorrei (Castelli); dére, darei (Atessa); candére, canterei. For the dialects of the Abruzzi, we can check our observations by examples from the oldest chronicle of Aquila, as non habéra lassato, non avrebbe lasciato (str. 180) (cf. negara, Ital. negherei, in old MS. of the Marches). There are some interesting remains (more or less corrupted both in form and usage) of ancient consonantal terminations which have not yet been sufficiently studied: s’ incaricaviti, s’ incaricava, -abat (Basilicata, Senise); ebbiti, ebbe (ib.); avíadi, aveva (Calabria, Grimaldi); arrivaudi, arrivò (ib.). The last example also gives the -au of the 3rd pers. sing. perf. of the first conjugation, which still occurs in Sicily and between the horns of the Neapolitan mainland. In the Abruzzi (and in the Ascolan district) the 3rd person of the plural is in process of disappearing (the -no having fallen away and the preceding vowel being obscured), and its function is assumed by the 3rd person singular; cf. C. 1.13 The explanation of the Neapolitan forms songhḛ, io sono, essi sono, donghḛ, io do, stonghḛ, io sto, as also of the enclitic of the 2nd person plural which exists, e.g. in the Sicil. avíssivu, Neap. avístevę, aveste, has been correctly given more than once. It may be remarked in conclusion that this Neo-Latin region keeps company with the Rumanian in maintaining in large use the -ora derived from the ancient neuter plurals of the type tempora; Sicil. jócura, giuochi; Calabr. nídura, Abruzz. nídḛre, nidi, Neap. órtola (= -ra), orti, Capitanata ácurḛ, aghi, Apulian acéddere (Tarantine acéddiri), uccelli, &c. It is in this region, and more particularly in Capua, that we can trace the first appearance of what can definitely be called Italian, as shown in a Latin legal document of the year 960 (sao co kelle terre per kelle fini qui ki contene trenta anni le possette parte Sancti Benedicti, Ital. “so che quelle terre per quei confini che qui contiene trent ’anni le possedette la parte di S. Benedetto”), and belongs more precisely to Capua. The so-called Carta Rossanese (Calabria), written in a mixture of Latin and vulgar tongue, belongs to the first decades of the 12th century; while a document of Fondi (Campania) in the vulgar tongue goes back to the last decades of the same century. Neapolitan documents do not become abundant till the 14th century. The same is true of the Abruzzi and of Apulia; in the case of the latter the date should perhaps be put even later.

4. Dialects of Umbria, the Marches and the Province of Rome.—The phenomena characteristic of the Gallo-Italian dialects can be traced in the northern Marches in the dialects not only of the provinces of Pesaro and Urbino (Arch. glott. ii. 444), where we note also the constant dropping of the final vowels, strong elisions of accented and unaccented vowels, the suffix -ariu becoming -ér, &c., but also as far as Ancona and beyond. As in Ancona, the double consonants are reduced to single ones; there are strong elisions (breta, Ital. berretta; blin, Ital. bellino; figurte, Ital. “figúrati”; vermne, Ital. verme, “vermine,” &c.); the -k- becomes g; the s, š. At Jesi -t- and -k- become d and g, and the g is also found at Fabriano, though here it is modified in the Southern fashion (spia = spiga, Ital. spica). Examples are also found of the dropping of -d- primary between vowels: Pesaran ráica, Ital. radica; Fabr. peo; Ital. piede, which are noteworthy in that they indicate an isolated Gallo-Italian phenomenon, which is further traceable in Umbria (peacchia = ped-, Ital. orma; ráica and raíce, Ital. radice; trúbio, Ital. torbido; frácio, Ital. fracido; at Rieti also the dropping of the -d- is normal: veo, Ital. vedo; fiátu, Ital. fidato, &c.; and here too is found the dropping of initial d for syntactical reasons: ènte, Ital. dente, from lu [d]ènte). According to some scholars of the Marches, the é for a also extends as far as Ancona; and it is certainly continued from the north, though it is precisely in the territory of the Marches that Gallo-Italian and Abruzzan come into contact. The southern part of the Marches (the basin of the Tronto), after all, is Abruzzan in character. But the Abruzzan or Southern phenomena in general are widely diffused throughout the whole of the region comprising the Marches, Umbria, Latium and Aquila (for the territory of Aquila, belonging as it does both geographically and politically to the Abruzzi, is also attached linguistically to this group), which with regard to certain phenomena includes also that part of Tuscany lying to the south of the southern Ombrone. Further, the Tuscan dialect strictly so called sends into the Marches a few of its characteristics, and thus at Arcevia we have the pronunciation of -ć- between vowels as š (fórmesce, Ital. forbici),14 and Ancona has no changes of tonic vowels determined by the final vowel. Again, Umbria and the Sabine territory, and some parts of the Roman territory, are connected with Tuscany by the phenomenon of -ajo for -ariu (molinajo, Ital. mugnaio, &c.). But, to come to the Abruzzan Southern phenomena, we should note that the Abruzzan ll for ld extends into the central region (Norcia: callu, caldo; Rome: ariscalla, riscalda; the phenomenon, however, occurs also in Corsica); and the assimilation of nd into nn, and of mb into mm stretches through Umbria, the Marches and Rome, and even crosses from the Roman province into southern Tuscany (Rieti: quanno, quando; Spoleto: comannava, comandava; Assisi: piagnenno, piangendo; Sanseverino Marches: piagnenne, ’mmece, invece (imbece); Fabriano: vennecasse, vendicarsi; Osimo: monno, mondo; Rome: fronna, fronda; piommo, piombo; Pitigliano (Tuscany): quanno, piagnenno). It is curious to note, side by side with this phenomenon, in the same districts, that of nd for nn, which we still find and which was more common in the past (affando, affanno, &c., see Zeitschrift für roman. Philol. xxii. 510). Even the diphthongs of the e and the o in position are largely represented. Examples are—at Norcia, tiempi, uocchi, stuortu; Assisi and Fabriano: tiempo; Orvieto: tiempo, tierra, le tuorte, li torti, and even duonna. The change of preconsonantal l into r, so frequent throughout this region, and particularly characteristic of Rome, is a phenomenon common to the Aquilan dialect. Similar facts might be adduced in abundance. And it is to be noted that the features common to Umbro-Roman and the Neapolitan dialects must have been more numerous in the past, as this was the region where the Tuscan current met the southern, and by reason of its superior culture gradually gained the ascendancy.15 Typical for the whole district (except the Marches) is the reduction to t (and later to j) of ll and of l initial, when followed by i or u (Velletri, tuna, tuce; Sora, juna, Ital. luna, jima, Ital. lima; melica. Ital. mollica, bétḛ, Ital. belli, bello, in vulgar Latin bellu; but bella, bella, &c.). The phonological connexions between the Northern Umbrian, the Aretine, and the Gallo-Italic type have already been indicated (B. 2). In what relates to morphology, the -orno of the 3rd pers. plur. of the perfect of the first conjugation has been pointed out as an essential peculiarity of the Umbro-Roman territory; but even this it shares with the Aquila vernaculars, which, moreover, extend it to the other conjugations (amórno, timórono, &c.), exactly like the -ó of the 3rd person singular. Further, this termination is found also in the Tuscan dialects.

Throughout almost the whole district should be noted the distinction between the masculine and neuter substantive, expressed by means of the article, the distinction being that the neuter substantive has an abstract and indeterminate signification; e.g. at S. Ginesio, in the Marches, lu pesce, but lo pesce, of fish in general, as food, &c.; at Sora te wétre, the sheet of glass, but lḛ wétrḛ, glass, the material, original substance.16 As to the inflection of verbs, there is in the ancient texts of the region a notable prevalence of perfect form in the formation of the imperfect conjunctive; tolzesse, Ital. togliesse; sostenesse, Ital. sostenesse; conubbessero, Ital. conoscessero, &c. In the northern Marches, we should note the preposition sa, Ital. con (sa lia, Ital. con lei), going back to a type similar to that of the Ital. “con-esso.”

In a large part of Umbria an m or t is prefixed to the sign of the dative: t-a lu, a lui; m-al re, al re;17 which must be the remains of the auxiliary prepositions int(us), a(m)pud, cf. Prov. amb, am (cf. Arch. ii. 444-446). By means of the series of Perugine texts this group of dialects may be traced back with confidence to the 13th century; and to this region should also belong a “Confession,” half Latin half vernacular, dating from about the 11th century, edited and annotated by Flechia (Arch. vii. 121 sqq.). The “chronicle” of Monaldeschi has been already mentioned. The MSS. of the Marches go back to the beginning of the 13th century and perhaps still further back. For Roman (see Monaci, Rendic. dell’ Accad. dei Lincei, xvi. 103 sqq.) there is a short inscription of the 11th century. To the 13th century belongs the Liber historiarum Romanorum (Monaci, Archivio della Società rom. di storia patria, xii.; and also, Rendic. dei Lincei, i. 94 sqq.), and to the first half of the same century the Formole volgari of Raineri da Perugia (Monaci, ib., xiv. 268 sqq.). There are more abundant texts for all parts of this district in the 14th century, to which also belongs the Cronica Aquilana of Buccio di Ranallo, republished by De Bartholomaeis (Rome, 1907).

D. Tuscan, and the Literary Language of the Italians.

We have now only to deal with the Tuscan territory. It is bounded on the W. by the sea. To the north it terminates with the Apennines; for Romagna Toscana, the strip of country on the Adriatic versant which belongs to it administratively, is assigned to Emilia as regards dialect. In the north-west also the Emilian presses on the Tuscan, extending as it does down the Mediterranean slope of the Apennines in Lunigiana and Garfagnana. Intrusions which may be called Emilian have also been noted to the west of the Apennines in the district where the Arno and the Tiber take their rise (Aretine dialects); and it has been seen how thence to the sea the Umbrian and Roman dialects surround the Tuscan. Such are the narrow limits of the “promised land” of the language which has succeeded and was worthy to succeed Latin in the history of Italian culture and civilization,—the land which comprises Florence, Siena, Lucca and Pisa. The Tuscan type may be best described by the negative method. There do not exist in it, on the one hand, any of those phenomena by which the other dialectal types of Italy mainly differ from the Latin base (such as ü = ṹ; frequent elision of unaccented vowels; ba = gua; š = fl; nn = nd, &c.), nor, on the other hand, is there any series of alterations of the Latin base peculiar to the Tuscan. This twofold negative description may further serve for the Tuscan or literary Italian as contrasted with all the other Neo-Latin languages; indeed, even where the Tuscan has a tendency to alterations common to other types of the family, it shows itself more sober and self-denying—as may be seen in the reduction of the t between vowels into d or of c (k) between vowels into g, which in Italian affects only a small part of the lexical series, while in Provençal or Spanish it may be said to pervade the whole (e.g. Prov. and Span. mudar, Ital. mutare; Prov. segur, Span. seguro, Ital. sicuro). It may consequently be affirmed without any partiality that, in respect to historical nobility, the Italian not only holds the first rank among Neo-Latin languages, but almost constitutes an intermediate grade between the ancient or Latin and the modern or Romance. What has just been said about the Tuscan, as compared with the other dialectal types of Italy, does not, however, preclude the fact that in the various Tuscan veins, and especially in the plebeian forms of speech, there occur particular instances of phonetic decay; but these must of necessity be ignored in so brief a sketch as the present. We shall confine ourselves to noting—what has a wide territorial diffusion—the reduction of c (k) between vowels to a mere breathing (e.g. fŭóho, fuoco, but porco), or even its complete elision; the same phenomenon occurs also between word and word (e.g. la hasa, but in casa), thus illustrating anew that syntactic class of phonetic alterations, either qualitative or quantitative, conspicuous in this region, also, which has been already discussed for insular and southern Italy (B. 2; C. 2, 3), and could be exemplified for the Roman region as well (C. 4). As regards one or two individual phenomena, it must also be confessed that the Tuscan or literary Italian is not so well preserved as some other Neo-Latin tongues. Thus, French always keeps in the beginning of words the Latin formulae cl, pl, fl (clef, plaisir, fleur, in contrast with the Italian chiave, piacere, fiore); but the Italian makes up for this by the greater vigour with which it is wont to resolve the same formula within the words, and by the greater symmetry thus produced between the two series (in opposition to the French clef, clave, we have, for example, the French œil, oclo; whereas, in the Italian, chiave and occhio correspond to each other). The Italian as well as the Rumanian has lost the ancient sibilant at the end (-s of the plurals, of the nominative singular, of the 2nd persons, &c.), which throughout the rest of the Romance area has been preserved more or less tenaciously; and consequently it stands lower than old Provençal and old French, as far as true declension or, more precisely, the functional distinction between the forms of the casus rectus and the casus obliquus is concerned. But even in this respect the superiority of French and Provençal has proved merely transitory, and in their modern condition all the Neo-Latin forms of speech are generally surpassed by Italian even as regards the pure grammatical consistency of the noun. In conjugation Tuscan has lost that tense which for the sake of brevity we shall continue to call the pluperfect indicative; though it still survives outside of Italy and in other dialectal types of Italy itself (C. 3b; cf. B. 2). It has also lost the futurum exactum, or perfect subjunctive, which is found in Spanish and Rumanian. But no one would on that account maintain that the Italian conjugation is less truly Latin than the Spanish, the Rumanian, or that of any other Neo-Latin language. It is, on the contrary, by far the most distinctively Latin as regards the tradition both of form and function, although many effects of the principle of analogy are to be observed, sometimes common to Italian with the other Neo-Latin languages and sometimes peculiar to itself.

Those who find it hard to believe in the ethnological explanation of linguistic varieties ought to be convinced by any example so clear as that which Italy presents in the difference between the Tuscan or purely Italian type on the one side and the Gallo-Italic on the other. The names in this instance correspond exactly to the facts of the case. For the Gallo-Italic on either side of the Alps is evidently nothing else than a modification—varying in degree, but always very great—of the vulgar Latin, due to the reaction of the language or rather the oral tendencies of the Celts who succumbed to the Roman civilization. In other words, the case is one of new ethnic individualities arising from the fusion of two national entities, one of which, numerically more or less weak, is so far victorious that its speech is adopted, while the other succeeds in adapting that speech to its own habits of utterance. Genuine Italian, on the other hand, is not the result of the combination or conflict of the vulgar Latin with other tongues, but is the pure development of this alone. In other words, the case is that of an ancient national fusion in which vulgar Latin itself originated. Here that is native which in the other case was intrusive. This greater purity of constitution gives the language a persistency which approaches permanent stability. There is no Old Italian to oppose to Modern Italian in the same sense as we have an Old French to oppose to a Modern French. It is true that in the old French writers, and even in the writers who used the dialects of Upper Italy, there was a tendency to bring back the popular forms to their ancient dignity; and it is true also that the Tuscan or literary Italian has suffered from the changes of centuries; but nevertheless it remains undoubted that in the former cases we have to deal with general transformations between old and new, while in the latter it is evident that the language of Dante continues to be the Italian of modern speech and literature. This character of invariability has thus been in direct proportion to the purity of its Latin origin, while, on the contrary, where popular Latin has been adopted by peoples of foreign speech, the elaboration which it has undergone along the lines of their oral tendencies becomes always the greater the farther we get away from the point at which the Latin reached them,—in proportion, that is, to the time and space through which it has been transmitted in these foreign mouths.18

As for the primitive seat of the literary language of Italy, not only must it be regarded as confined within the limits of that narrower Tuscany already described; strictly speaking, it must be identified with the city of Florence alone. Leaving out of account, therefore, a small number of words borrowed from other Italian dialects, as a certain number have naturally been borrowed from foreign tongues, it may be said that all that was not Tuscan was eliminated from the literary form of speech. If we go back to the time of Dante, we find, throughout almost all the dialects of the mainland with the exception of Tuscan, the change of vowels between singular and plural seen in paese, paisi; quello, quilli; amore, amuri (see B. 1; C. 3b); but the literary language knows nothing at all of such a phenomenon, because it was unknown to the Tuscan region. But in Tuscan itself there were differences between Florentine and non-Florentine; in Florentine, e.g. it was and is usual to say unto, giunto, punto, while the non-Florentine had it onto, gionto, ponto, (Lat. unctu, &c.); at Florence they say piazza, meźźo, while elsewhere (at Lucca, Pisa) they say or used to say, piassa, meśśo. Now, it is precisely the Florentine forms which alone have currency in the literary language.

In the ancient compositions in the vulgar tongue, especially in poetry, non-Tuscan authors on the one hand accommodated their own dialect to the analogy of that which they felt to be the purest representative of the language of ancient Roman culture, while the Tuscan authors in their turn did not refuse to adopt the forms which had received the rights of citizenship from the literary celebrities of other parts of Italy. It was this state of matters which gave rise in past times to the numerous disputes about the true fatherland and origin of the literary language of the Italians. But these have been deprived of all right to exist by the scientific investigation of the history of that language. If the older Italian poetry assumed or maintained forms alien to Tuscan speech, these forms were afterwards gradually eliminated, and the field was left to those which were purely Tuscan and indeed purely Florentine. And thus it remains absolutely true that, so far as phonetics, morphology, rudimental syntax, and in short the whole character and material of words and sentences are concerned, there is no literary language of Europe that is more thoroughly characterized by homogeneity and oneness, as if it had come forth in a single cast from the furnace, than the Italian.

But on the other hand it remains equally true that, so far as concerns a living confidence and uniformity in the use and style of the literary language—that is, of this Tuscan or Florentine material called to nourish the civilization and culture of all the Italians—the case is not a little altered, and the Italian nation appears to enjoy less fortunate conditions than other nations of Europe. Modern Italy had no glowing centre for the life of the whole nation into which and out of which the collective thought and language could be poured in ceaseless current for all and by all. Florence has not been Paris. Territorial contiguity and the little difference of the local dialect facilitated in the modern Rome the elevation of the language of conversation to a level with the literary language that came from Tuscany. A form of speech was thus produced which, though certainly destitute of the grace and the abundant flexibility of the Florentine, gives a good idea of what the dialect of a city becomes when it makes itself the language of a nation that is ripening its civilization in many and dissimilar centres. In such a case the dialect loses its slang and petty localisms, and at the same time also somewhat of its freshness; but it learns to express with more conscious sobriety and with more assured dignity the thought and the feeling of the various peoples which are fused in one national life. But what took place readily in Rome could not with equal ease happen in districts whose dialects were far removed from the Tuscan. In Piedmont, for example, or in Lombardy, the language of conversation did not correspond with the language of books, and the latter accordingly became artificial and laboured. Poetry was least affected by these unfortunate conditions; for poetry may work well with a multiform language, where the need and the stimulus of the author’s individuality assert themselves more strongly. But prose suffered immensely, and the Italians had good cause to envy the spontaneity and confidence of foreign literatures—of the French more particularly. In this reasonable envy lay the justification and the strength of the Manzoni school, which aimed at that absolute naturalness of the literary language, that absolute identity between the language of conversation and that of books, which the bulk of the Italians could reach and maintain only by naturalizing themselves in the living speech of modern Florence. The revolt of Manzoni against artificiality and mannerism in language and style was worthy of his genius, and has been largely fruitful. But the historical difference between the case of France (with the colloquial language of Paris) and that of Italy (with the colloquial language of Florence) implies more than one difficulty of principle; in the latter case there is sought to be produced by deliberate effort of the literati what in the former has been and remains the necessary and spontaneous product of the entire civilization. Manzoni’s theories too easily lent themselves to deplorable exaggerations; men fell into a new artificiality, a manner of writing which might be called vulgar and almost slangy. The remedy for this must lie in the regulating power of the labour of the now regenerate Italian intellect,—a labour ever growing wider in its scope, more assiduous and more thoroughly united.

The most ancient document in the Tuscan dialect is a very short fragment of a jongleur’s song (12th century; see Monaci, Crestomazia, 9-10). After that there is nothing till the 13th century. P. Santini has published the important and fairly numerous fragments of a book of notes of some Florentine bankers, of the year 1211. About the middle of the century, our attention is arrested by the Memoriali of the Sienese Matasala di Spinello. To 1278 belongs the MS. in which is preserved the Pistojan version of the Trattati morali of Albertano, which we owe to Sofredi del Grathia. The Riccardian Tristano, published and annotated by E. G. Parodi, seems to belong to the end of the 13th and beginning of the 14th centuries. For other 13th-century writings see Monaci, op. cit. 31-32, 40, and Parodi, Giornale storico della letteratura italiana, x. 178-179. For the question concerning language, see Ascoli, Arch. glott. i. v. et seq.; D’ Ovidio, Le Correzioni ai Promessi Sposi e la questione della lingua, 4th ed. Naples, 1895.

Literature.—K. L. Fernow in the third volume of his Römische Studien (Zurich, 1806-1808) gave a good survey of the dialects of Italy. The dawn of rigorously scientific methods had not then appeared; but Fernow’s view is wide and genial. Similar praise is due to Biondelli’s work Sui dialetti gallo-italici (Milan, 1853), which, however, is still ignorant of Diez. August Fuchs, between Fernow and Biondelli, had made himself so far acquainted with the new methods; but his exploration (Über die sogenannten unregelmässigen Zeitwörter in den romanischen Sprachen, nebst Andeutungen über die wichtigsten romanischen Mundarten, Berlin, 1840), though certainly of utility, was not very successful. Nor can the rapid survey of the Italian dialects given by Friedrich Diez be ranked among the happiest portions of his great masterpiece. Among the followers of Diez who distinguished themselves in this department the first outside of Italy were certainly Mussafia, a cautious and clear continuator of the master, and the singularly acute Hugo Schuchardt. Next came the Archivio glottologico italiano (Turin, 1873 and onwards. Up to 1897 there were published 16 vols.), the lead in which was taken by Ascoli and G. Flechia (d. 1892), who, together with the Dalmatian Adolf Mussafia (d. 1906), may be looked upon as the founders of the study of Italian dialects, and who have applied to their writings a rigidly methodical procedure and a historical and comparative standard, which have borne the best fruit. For historical studies dealing specially with the literary language, Nannucci, with his good judgment and breadth of view, led the way; we need only mention here his Analisi critica dei verbi italiani (Florence, 1844). But the new method was to show how much more it was to and did effect. When this movement on the part of the scholars mentioned above became known, other enthusiasts soon joined them, and the Arch. glottologico developed into a school, which began to produce many prominent works on language [among the first in order of date and merit may be mentioned “Gli Allotropi italiani,” by U. A. Canello (1887), Arch. glott. iii. 285-419; and Le Origini della lingua poetica italiana, by N. Caix (d. 1882), (Florence, 1880)], and studies on the dialects. We shall here enumerate those of them which appear for one reason or another to have been the most notable. But, so far as works of a more general nature are concerned, we should first state that there have been other theories as to the classification of the Italian dialects (see also above the various notes on B. 1, 2 and C. 2) put forward by W. Meyer-Lübke (Einführung in das Studium der romanischen Sprachwissenschaft, Heidelberg, 1901; pp. 21-22), and M. Bartoli (Altitalienische Chrestomathie, von P. Savj-Lopez und M. Bartoli, Strassburg, 1903, pp. 171 et seq. 193 et seq., and the table at the end of the volume). W. Meyer-Lübke afterwards filled in details of the system which he had sketched in Gröber’s Grundriss der romanischen Philologie, i., 2nd ed. (1904), pp. 696 et seq. And from the same author comes that masterly work, the Italienische Grammatik (Leipzig, 1890), where the language and its dialects are set out in one organic whole, just as they are placed together in the concise chapter devoted to Italian in the above-mentioned Grundriss (pp. 637 et seq.). We will now give the list, from which we omit, however, the works quoted incidentally throughout the text: B. 1 a: Parodi, Arch. glott. xiv. 1 sqq., xv. 1 sqq., xvi. 105 sqq. 333 sqq.; Poesie in dial. tabbiese del sec. XVII. illustrate da E. G. Parodi (Spezia, 1904); Schädel, Die Mundart von Ormea (Halle, 1903); Parodi, Studj romanzi, fascic. v.; b: Giacomino, Arch. glott. xv. 403 sqq.; Toppino, ib. xvi. 517 sqq.; Flechia, ib. xiv. 111 sqq.; Nigra, Miscell. Ascoli (Turin, 1901), 247 sqq.; Renier, Il Gelindo (Turin, 1896); Salvioni, Rendiconti Istituto lombardo, s. ii., vol. xxxvii. 522, sqq.; c: Salvioni, Fonetica del dialetto di Milano (Turin, 1884); Studi di filol. romanza, viii. 1 sqq.; Arch. glott. ix. 188 sqq. xiii. 355 sqq.; Rendic. Ist. lomb. s. ii., vol. xxxv. 905 sqq.; xxxix. 477 sqq.; 505 sqq. 569 sqq. 603 sqq., xl. 719 sqq.; Bollettino storico della Svizzera italiana, xvii. and xviii.; Michael, Der Dialekt des Poschiavotals (Halle, 1905); v. Ettmayer, Bergamaskische Alpenmundarten (Leipzig, 1903); Romanische Forschungen, xiii. 321 sqq.; d: Mussafia, Darstellung der romagnolischen Mundart (Vienna, 1871); Gaudenzi, I Suoni ecc. della città di Bologna (Turin, 1889); Ungarelli, Vocab. del dial. bologn. con una introduzione di A. Trauzzi sulla fonetica e sulla morfologia del dialetto (Bologna, 1901); Bertoni, Il Dialetto di Modena (Turin, 1905); Pullé, “Schizzo dei dialetti del Frignano” in L’ Apennino modenese. 673 sqq. (Rocca S. Casciano, 1895); Piagnoli, Fonetica parmigiana (Turin, 1904); Restori, Note fonetiche sui parlari dell’ alta valle di Macra (Leghorn, 1892); Gorra, Zeitschrift für romanische Philologie, xvi. 372 sqq.; xiv. 133 sqq.; Nicoli, Studi di filologia romanza, viii. 197 sqq. B. 2: Hofmann, Die logudoresische und campidanesische Mundart (Marburg, 1885); Wagner, Lautlehre der südsardischen Mundarten (Malle a. S., 1907); Campus, Fonetica del dialetto logudorese (Turin, 1901); Guarnerio, Arch. glott. xiii. 125 sqq., xiv. 131 sqq., 385 sqq. C. 1: Rossi, Le Lettere di Messer Andrea Calmo (Turin, 1888); Wendriner, Die paduanische Mundart bei Ruzante (Breslau, 1889); Le Rime di Bartolomeo Cavassico notaio bellunese della prima metà del sec. xvi. con illustraz. e note di v. Cian, e con illustrazioni linguistiche e lessico a cura di C. Salvioni (2 vols., Bologna, 1893-1894); Gartner, Zeitschr. für roman. Philol. xvi. 183 sqq., 306 sqq.; Salvioni, Arch. glott. xvi. 245 sqq.; Vidossich, Studi sul dialetto triestino (Triest, 1901); Zeitschr. für rom. Phil. xxvii. 749 sqq.; Ascoli, Arch. glott. xiv. 325 sqq.; Schneller, Die romanischen Volksmundarten in Südtirol, i. (Gera, 1870); von Slop, Die tridentinische Mundart (Klagenfurt, 1888); Ive, I Dialetti ladino-veneti dell’ Istria (Strassburg, 1900). C. 2: Guarnerio, Arch. glott. xiii. 125 sqq., xiv. 131 sqq., 385 sqq. C. 3 a: Wentrup-Pitré, in Pitré, Fiabe, novelle e racconti popolari siciliani, vol. i., pp. cxviii. sqq.; Schneegans, Laute und Lautentwickelung des sicil. Dialektes (Strassburg, 1888); De Gregorio, Saggio di fonetica siciliana (Palermo, 1890); Pirandello, Laute und Lautentwickelung der Mundart von Girgenti (Halle, 1891); Cremona, Fonetica del Caltagironese (Acireale, 1895); Santangelo, Arch. glott. xvi. 479 sqq.; La Rosa, Saggi di morfologia siciliana, i. Sostantivi (Noto, 1901); Salvioni, Rendic. Ist. lomb. s. ii., vol. xl. 1046 sqq., 1106 sqq., 1145 sqq.; b: Scerbo, Sul dialetto calabro (Florence, 1886); Accattati’s, Vocabolario del dial. calabrese (Castrovillari, 1895); Gentili, Fonetica del dialetto cosentino (Milan, 1897); Wentrup, Beiträge zur Kenntniss der neapolitanischen Mundart (Wittenberg, 1855); Subak, Die Konjugation im Neapolitanischen (Vienna, 1897); Morosi, Arch. glott. iv. 117 sqq.; De Noto, Appunti di fonetica sul dial. di Taranto (Trani, 1897); Subak, Das Zeitwort in der Mundart von Tarent (Brünn, 1897); Panareo, Fonetica del dial. di Maglie d’ Otranto (Milan, 1903); Nitti di Vito, Il Dial. di Bari, part 1, “Vocalismo moderno” (Milan, 1896); Abbatescianni, Fonologia del dial. barese (Avellino, 1896); Zingarelli, Arch. glott. xv. 83 sqq., 226 sqq.; Ziccardi, Studi glottologici, iv. 171 sqq.; D’ Ovidio, Arch. glott. iv. 145 sqq., 403 sqq.; Finamore, Vocabolario dell’ uso abruzzese (2nd ed., Città di Castello, 1893); Rollin, Mitteilung XIV. der Gesellschaft zur Förderung deutscher Wissenschaft, Kunst und Literatur in Böhmen (Prague, 1901); De Lollis, Arch. glott. xii. 1 sqq., 187 sqq.; Miscell. Ascoli, 275 sqq.; Savini, La Grammatica e il lessico del dial. teramano (Turin, 1881). C. 4: Merlo, Zeitschr. f. roman. Phil., xxx. 11 sqq., 438 sqq., xxxi. 157 sqq.; E. Monaci (notes on old Roman), Rendic. dei Lincei, Feb. 21st, 1892, p. 94 sqq.; Rossi-Casè, Bollett. di stor. patria degli Abruzzi, vi.; Crocioni, Miscell. Monaci, pp. 429 sqq.; Ceci, Arch. glott. x. 167 sqq.; Parodi, ib. xiii. 299 sqq.; Campanelli, Fonetica del dial. reatino (Turin, 1896); Verga, Sonetti e altre poesie di R. Torelli in dial. perugino (Milan, 1895); Bianchi, Il Dialetto e la etnografia di Città di Castello (Città di Castello, 1888); Neumann-Spallart, Zeitschrift für roman. Phil. xxviii. 273 sqq., 450 sqq.; Weitere Beiträge zur Charakteristik des Dialektes der Marche (Halle a. S., 1907); Crocioni, Studi di fil. rom., ix. 617 sqq.; Studi romanzi, fasc. 3°, 113 sqq., Il Dial. di Arcevia (Rome, 1906); Lindsstrom, Studi romanzi, fasc. 5°, 237 sqq.; Crocioni, ib. 27 sqq. D.: Parodi, Romania, xviii.; Schwenke, De dialecto quae carminibus popularibus tuscanicis a Tigrio editis continetur (Leipzig, 1872); Pieri, Arch. glott. xii. 107 sqq., 141 sqq., 161 sqq.; Miscell. Caix-Canello, 305 sqq.; Note sul dialetto aretino (Pisa, 1886); Zeitschr. für rom. Philol. xxviii. 161 sqq.; Salvioni, Arch. glott. xvi. 395 sqq.; Hirsch, Zeitschrift f. rom. Philol. ix. 513 sqq., x. 56 sqq., 411 sqq. For researches on the etymology of all the Italian dialects, but chiefly of those of Northern Italy, the Beitrag zur Kunde der norditalienischen Mundarten im XV. Jahrhundert of Ad. Mussafia (Vienna, 1873) and the Postille etimologiche of Giov. Flechia (Arch. glott. ii., iii.) are of the greatest importance. Biondelli’s book is of no small service also for the numerous translations which it contains of the Prodigal Son into Lombard, Piedmontese and Emilian dialects. A dialogue translated into the vernaculars of all parts of Italy will be found in Zuccagni Orlandini’s Raccolta di dialetti italiani con illustrazioni etnologiche (Florence, 1864). And every dialectal division is abundantly represented in a series of versions of a short novel of Boccaccio, which Papanti has published under the title I Parlari italiani in Certaldo, &c. (Leghorn, 1875).

[A very valuable and rich collection of dialectal essays on the most ancient documents for all parts of Italy is to be found in the Crestomazia italiana dei primi secoli of E. Monaci (Città di Castello, 1889-1897); see also in the Altitalienische Chrestomathie of P. Savj-Lopez and M. Bartoli (Strassburg, 1903).]

(G. I. A.; C. S.*)

1 The article by G. I. Ascoli in the 9th edition of the Encyclopaedia Britannica, which has been recognized as a classic account of the Italian language, was reproduced by him, with slight modifications, in Arch. glott. viii. 98-128. The author proposed to revise his article for the present edition of the Encyclopaedia, but his death on the 21st of January 1907 prevented his carrying out this work, and the task was undertaken by Professor C. Salvioni. In the circumstances it was considered best to confine the revision to bringing Ascoli’s article up to date, while preserving its form and main ideas, together with the addition of bibliographical notes, and occasional corrections and substitutions, in order that the results of more recent research might be embodied. The new matter is principally in the form of notes or insertions within square brackets.

2 [In Corsica the present position of Italian as a language of culture is as follows. Italian is only used for preaching in the country churches. In all the other relations of public and civil life (schools, law courts, meetings, newspapers, correspondence, &c.), its place is taken by French. As the elementary schools no longer teach Italian but French, an educated Corsican nowadays knows only his own dialect for everyday use, and French for public occasions.]

3 [It may be asked whether we ought not to include under this section the Vegliote dialect (Veglioto), since under this form the Dalmatian dialect (Dalmatico) is spoken in Italy. But it should be remembered that in the present generation the Dalmatian dialect has only been heard as a living language at Veglia.]

4 As a matter of fact the “velar” at the end of a word, when preceded by an accented vowel, is found also in Venetia and Istria. This fact, together with others (v. Kritischer Jahresbericht über die Fortschritte der roman. Philol. vii. part i. 130), suggests that we ought to assume an earlier group in which Venetian and Gallo-Italian formed part of one and the same group. In this connexion too should be noted the atonic pronoun ghe (Ital. ci-a lui, a lei, a loro), which is found in Venetian, Lombard, North-Emilian and Ligurian.

5 [The latest authorities for the Sardinian dialects are W. Meyer-Lübke and M. Bartoli, in the passages quoted by Guarnerio in his “Il sardo e il côrso in una nuova classificazione delle lingue romanze” (Arch. glott. xvi. 491-516). These scholars entirely dissociate Sardinian from the Italian system, considering it as forming in itself a Romance language, independent of the others; a view in which they are correct. The chief discriminating criterion is supplied by the treatment of the Latin -s, which is preserved in Sardinian, the Latin accusative form prevailing in the declension of the plural, as opposed to the nominative, which prevails in the Italian system. In this respect the Gallo-Italian dialects adhere to the latter system, rejecting the -s and retaining the nominative form. On the other hand, these facts form an important link between Sardinian and the Western Romance dialects, such as the Iberian, Gallic and Ladin; it is not, however, to be identified with any of them, but is distinguished from them by many strongly-marked characteristics peculiar to itself, chief among which is the treatment of the Latin accented vowels, for which see Ascoli in the text. As to the internal classification of the Sardinian dialects, Guarnerio assumes four types, the Campidanese, Logudorese, Gallurese and Sassarese. The separate individuality of the last of these is indicated chiefly by the treatment of the accented vowels (dḛźi, Ital. dieci; tḛla, Ital. tela; pȩlu, Ital. pelo; nǫbu, Ital. nuovo; fiori, Ital. fiore; noźi, Ital. noce, as compared, e.g. with Gallurese dḛci, tḛla, pilu, nou, fiǫri, nući). Both Gallura and Sassari, however, reject the -s, and adopt the nominative form in the plural, thus proving that they are not entirely distinct from the Italian system.]

6 On this point see the chapter, “La terra ferma veneta considerata in ispecie ne’ suoi rapporti con la sezione centrale della zona ladina,” in Arch. i. 406-447.

7 [There are also examples of Istrian variants, such as laṅna, Ital. lana; kadeṅna, Ital. catena.]

8 [There have been of late years many different opinions concerning the classification of Corsican. Meyer-Lübke dissociates it from Italian, and connects it with Sardinian, making of the languages of the two islands a unit independent of the Romance system. But even he (in Gröber’s Grundriss, 2nd ed., vol. i. p. 698) recognized that there were a number of characteristics, among them the participle in -utu and the article illu, closely connecting Sassari and Corsica with the mainland. The matter has since then been put in its true light by Guarnerio (Arch. glott. xvi. 510 et seq.), who points out that there are two varieties of language in Corsica, the Ultramontane or southern, and the Cismontane, by far the most widely spread, in the rest of the island. The former is, it is true, connected with Sardinian, but with that variety, precisely, which, as we have already seen, ought to be separated from the general Sardinian type. Here we might legitimately assume a North-Sardinian and South-Corsican type, having practically the same relation to Italian as have the Gallo-Italian dialects. As to the Cismontane, it has the Tuscan accented vowel-system, does not alter ll or rn, turns lj into ĩ (Ital. gli), and shares with Tuscan the peculiar pronunciation of ć between vowels, while, together with many of the Tuscan and central dialects, it reduces rr to a single consonant. For these reasons, Guarnerio is right in placing the Cismontane, as Ascoli does for all the Corsican dialects, on the same plane as Umbrian, &c.]

9 The Ultramontane variety has, however, tela, pilu, iḍḍu, boći, gula, furu, corresponding exactly to the Gallurese tela, pilu, Ital. pelo, iḍḍu; Ital. “ello,” Lat. illu; bǫci, Ital. voce; gula, Ital. gole.

10 [Traces are not lacking on the mainland of nģ becoming nć, not only in Calabria, where at Cosenza are found, e.g. chiáncere, Ital. piangere, manciare, but also in Sannio and Apulia: chiance, monce, Ital. mungere, in the province of Avellino, púnci, Ital. (tu) pungi, at Brindisi. In Sicily, on the other hand, can be traced examples of nć nk nt mp becoming nģ ng nd mb.]

11 It should, however, be noticed that there seem to be examples of the é from á in the southern dialects on the Tyrrhenian side; texts of Serrara d’Ischia give: mancete, mangiata, maretete, maritata, manneto, mandato; also tenno = Neap. tanno, allora. As to the diphthongs, we should not omit to mention that some of them are obviously of comparatively recent formation. Thus, examples from Cerignola, such as lęvǫitę, oliveto, come from *olivítu (cf. Lecc. leítu, &c.), that is to say, they are posterior to the phenomenon of vowel change by which the formula ę-u became í-u. And, still in the same dialect, in an example like gréjtę, creta, the ej seems perhaps to be recent, for the reason that another é, derived from an original é (Lat. ĕ), is treated in the same way (péjte, piede, &c.). As to examples from Agṇone like puole, palo, there still exists a plural pjéle which points to the phase *palo.

12 We should here mention that callu is also found in the Vocabolario Siciliano, and further occurs in Capitanata.

13 This is derived in reality from the Latin termination -unt, which is reduced phonetically to -u, a phenomenon not confined to the Abruzzi; cf. facciu, Ital. fanno, Lat. faciunt, at Norcia; crisciu, Ital. crescono, Lat. crescunt, &c., at Rieti. And examples are also to be found in ancient Tuscan.

14 [This resolution of -ć- by š, or by a sound very near to š, is, however, a Roman phenomenon, found in some parts of Apulia (Molfettese lausce, luce, &c.), and also heard in parts of Sicily.]

15 There is therefore nothing surprising in the fact that, for example, the chronicle of Monaldeschi of Orvieto (14th century) should indicate a form of speech of which Muratori remarks: “Romanis tunc familiaris, nimirum quae in nonnullis accedabat ad Neapolitanam seu vocibus seu pronuntiatione.” The alt into ait, &c. (aitro, moito), which occur in the well-known Vita di Cola di Rienzo, examples of which can also be found in some corners of the Marches, and of which there are also a few traces in Latium, also shows Abruzzan affinity. The phenomenon occurs also, however, in Emilian and Tuscan.

16 A distinction between the masculine and the neuter article can also be noticed at Naples and elsewhere in the southern region, where it sometimes occurs that the initial consonant of the substantive is differently determined according as the substantive itself is conceived as masculine or neuter; thus at Naples, neut. lo bero, masc. lo vero, “il vero,” &c.; at Cerignola (Capitanata), u mmȩgghiḛ, “il meglio,” side by side with u mǫisḛ “il mese.” The difference is evidently to be explained by the fact that the neuter article originally ended in a consonant (-d or -c?; see Merlo, Zeitschrift für roman. Philol. xxx. 449), which was then assimilated to the initial letter of the substantive, while the masculine article ended in a vowel.

17 This second prefix is common to the opposite valley of the Metauro, and appears farther south in the form of me,—Camerino: me lu pettu, nel petto, me lu Seppurgru, al Sepolcro.

18 A complete analogy is afforded by the history of the Aryan or Sanskrit language in India, which in space and time shows always more and more strongly the reaction of the oral tendencies of the aboriginal races on whom it has been imposed. Thus the Pali presents the ancient Aryan organism in a condition analogous to that of the oldest French, and the Prakrit of the Dramas, on the other hand, in a condition like that of modern French.

ITALIAN LITERATURE. 1. Origins.—One characteristic fact distinguishes the Italy of the middle ages with regard to its intellectual conditions—the tenacity with which the Latin tradition clung to life (see Latin). At the end of the 5th century the northern conquerors invaded Italy. The Roman world crumbled to pieces. A new kingdom arose at Ravenna under Theodoric, and there learning was not extinguished. The liberal arts flourished, the very Gothic kings surrounded themselves with masters of rhetoric and of grammar. The names of Cassiodorus, of Boetius, of Symmachus, are enough to show how Latin thought maintained its power amidst the political effacement of the Roman empire. And this thought held its ground throughout the subsequent ages and events. Thus, while elsewhere all culture had died out, there still remained in Italy some schools of laymen,1 and some really extraordinary men were educated in them, such as Ennodius, a poet more pagan than Christian, Arator, Fortunatus, Venantius Jovannicius, Felix the grammarian, Peter of Pisa, Paulinus of Aquileia and many others, in all of whom we notice a contrast between the barbarous age they lived in and their aspiration towards a culture that should reunite them to the classical literature of Rome. The Italians never had much love for theological studies, and those who were addicted to them preferred Paris to Italy. It was something more practical, more positive, that had attraction for the Italians, and especially the study of Roman law. This zeal for the study of jurisprudence furthered the establishment of the medieval universities of Bologna, Padua, Vicenza, Naples, Salerno, Modena and Parma; and these, in their turn, helped to spread culture, and to prepare the ground in which the new vernacular literature was afterwards to be developed. The tenacity of classical traditions, the affection for the memories of Rome, the preoccupation with political interests, particularly shown in the wars of the Lombard communes against the empire of the Hohenstaufens, a spirit more naturally inclined to practice than to theory—all this had a powerful influence on the fate of Italian literature. Italy was wanting in that combination of conditions from which the spontaneous life of a people springs. This was chiefly owing to the fact that the history of the Italians never underwent interruption,—no foreign nation having come in to change them and make them young again. That childlike state of mind and heart, which in other Latin races, as well as in the Germanic, was such a deep source of poetic inspiration, was almost utterly wanting in the Italians, who were always much drawn to history and very little to nature; so, while legends, tales, epic poems, satires, were appearing and spreading on all sides, Italy was either quite a stranger to this movement or took a peculiar part in it. We know, for example, what the Trojan traditions were in the middle ages; and we should have thought that in Italy—in the country of Rome, retaining the memory of Aeneas and Virgil—they would have been specially developed, for it was from Virgil that the medieval sympathy for the conquered of Troy was derived. In fact, however, it was not so. A strange book made its appearance in Europe, no one quite knows when, the Historia de excidio Trojae, which purported to have been written by a certain Dares the Phrygian, an eye-witness of the Trojan war. In the middle ages this book was the basis of many literary labours. Benoît de Sainte-More composed an interminable French poem founded on it, which afterwards in its turn became a source for other poets to draw from, such as Herbort of Fritzlar and Conrad of Würzburg. Now for the curious phenomenon displayed by Italy. Whilst Benoît de Sainte-More wrote his poem in French, taking his material from a Latin history, whilst the two German writers, from a French source, made an almost original work in their own language—an Italian, on the other hand, taking Benoît for his model, composed in Latin the Historia destructionis Trojae; and this Italian was Guido delle Colonne of Messina, one of the vernacular poets of the Sicilian school, who must accordingly have known well how to use his own language. Guido was an imitator of the Provençals; he understood French, and yet wrote his own book in Latin, nay, changed the romance of the Troubadour into serious history. Much the same thing occurred with the other great legends. That of Alexander the Great (q.v.) gave rise to many French, German and Spanish poems,—in Italy, only to the Latin distichs of Qualichino of Arezzo. The whole of Europe was full of the legend of Arthur (q.v.). The Italians contented themselves with translating and with abridging the French romances, without adding anything of their own. The Italian writer could neither appropriate the legend nor colour it with his own tints. Even religious legend, so widely spread in the middle ages, and springing up so naturally as it did from the heart of that society, only put out a few roots in Italy. Jacopo di Voragine, while collecting his lives of the saints, remained only an historian, a man of learning, almost a critic who seemed doubtful about the things he related. Italy had none of those books in which the middle age, whether in its ascetic or its chivalrous character, is so strangely depicted. The intellectual life of Italy showed itself in an altogether special, positive, almost scientific, form, in the study of Roman law, in the chronicles of Farfa, of Marsicano and of many others, in translations from Aristotle, in the precepts of the school of Salerno, in the travels of Marco Polo—in short, in a long series of facts which seem to detach themselves from the surroundings of the middle age, and to be united on the one side with classical Rome and on the other with the Renaissance.

The necessary consequence of all this was that the Latin language was most tenacious in Italy, and that the elaboration of the new vulgar tongue was very slow,—being in fact preceded by two periods of Italian literature in foreign Provençal and French preparatory periods. languages. That is to say, there were many Italians who wrote Provençal poems, such as the Marchese Alberto Malaspina (12th century), Maestro Ferrari of Ferrara, Cigala of Genoa, Zorzi of Venice, Sordello of Mantua, Buvarello of Bologna, Nicoletto of Turin and others, who sang of love and of war, who haunted the courts, or lived in the midst of the people, accustoming them to new sounds and new harmonies. At the same time there was other poetry of an epic kind, written in a mixed language, of which French was the basis, but in which forms and words belonging to the Italian dialects were continually mingling. We find in it hybrid words exhibiting a treatment of sounds according to the rules of both languages,—French words with Italian terminations, a system of vocalization within the words approaching the Italo-Latin usage,—in short, something belonging at once to both tongues, as it were an attempt at interpenetration, at fusion. Such were the Chansons de Geste, Macaire, the Entrée en Espagne written by Niccola of Padua, the Prise de Pampelune and some others. All this preceded the appearance of a purely Italian literature.

In the Franco-Italian poems there was, as it were, a clashing, a struggle between the two languages, the French, however, gaining the upper hand. This supremacy became gradually less and less. As the struggle continued Dialect. between French and Italian, the former by degrees lost as much as the latter gained. The hybridism recurred, but it no longer predominated. In the Bovo d’ Antona and the Rainardo e Lesengrino the Venetian dialect makes itself clearly felt, although the language is influenced by French forms. Thus these writings, which G. I. Ascoli has called “miste” (mixed), immediately preceded the appearance of purely Italian works.

It is now an established historical fact that there existed no writing in Italian before the 13th century. It was in the course of that century, and especially from 1250 onwards, that the new literature largely unfolded and developed North Italy. itself. This development was simultaneous in the whole peninsula, only there was a difference in the subject-matter of the art. In the north, the poems of Giacomino of Verona and Bonvecino of Riva were specially religious, and were intended to be recited to the people. They were written in a dialect partaking of the Milanese and the Venetian; and in their style they strongly bore the mark of the influence of French narrative poetry. They may be considered as belonging to the popular kind of poetry, taking the word, however, in a broad sense. Perhaps this sort of composition was encouraged by the old custom in the north of Italy of listening in the piazzas and on the highways to the songs of the jongleurs. To the very same crowds who had been delighted with the stories of romance, and who had listened to the story of the wickedness of Macaire and the misfortunes of Blanciflor, another jongleur would sing of the terrors of the Babilonia Infernale and the blessedness of the Gerusalemme celeste, and the singers of religious poetry vied with those of the Chansons de Geste.

In the south of Italy, on the other hand, the love-song prevailed, of which we have an interesting specimen in the Contrasto attributed to Ciullo d’ Alcamo, about which modern Italian critics have much exercised themselves. This South Italy. “contrasto” (dispute) between a man and a woman in Sicilian dialect certainly must not be considered as the most ancient or as the only southern poem of a popular kind. It belongs without doubt to the time of the emperor Frederick II., and is important as a proof that there existed a popular poetry independent of literary poetry. The Contrasto of Ciullo d’Alcamo is the most remarkable relic of a kind of poetry that has perished or which perhaps was smothered by the ancient Sicilian literature. Its distinguishing point was its possessing all the opposite qualities to the poetry of the rhymers of what we shall call the Sicilian school. Vigorous in the expression of feelings, it seems to come from a real sentiment. The conceits, which are sometimes most bold and very coarse, show that it proceeded from the lowest grades of society. Everything is original in Ciullo’s Contrasto. Conventionality has no place in it. It is marked by the sensuality characteristic of the people of the South.

The reverse of all this happened in the Siculo-Provençal school, at the head of which was Frederick II. Imitation was the fundamental characteristic of this school, to which belonged Enzio, king of Sardinia, Pier delle Vigne, Siculo-Provençal School. Inghilfredi, Guido and Odo delle Colonne, Jacopo d’ Aquino, Rugieri Pugliese, Giacomo da Lentino, Arrigo Testa and others. These rhymers never moved a step beyond the ideas of chivalry; they had no originality; they did not sing of what they felt in their heart; they abhorred the true and the real. They only aimed at copying as closely as they could the poetry of the Provençal troubadours.2 The art of the Siculo-Provençal school was born decrepit, and there were many reasons for this—first, because the chivalrous spirit, from which the poetry of the troubadours was derived, was now old and on its death-bed; next, because the Provençal art itself, which the Sicilians took as their model, was in its decadence. It may seem strange, but it is true, that when the emperor Frederick II., a philosopher, a statesman, a very original legislator, took to writing poetry, he could only copy and amuse himself with absolute puerilities. His art, like that of all the other poets of his court, was wholly conventional, mechanical, affected. It was completely wanting in what constitutes poetry—ideality, feeling, sentiment, inspiration. The Italians have had great disputes among themselves about the original form of the poems of the Sicilian school, that is to say, whether they were written in Sicilian dialect, or in that language which Dante called “volgare, illustre, aulico, cortigiano.” But the critics of most authority hold that the primitive form of these poems was the Sicilian dialect, modified for literary purposes with the help of Provençal and Latin; the theory of the “lingua illustre” has been almost entirely rejected, since we cannot say on what rules it could have been founded, when literature was in its infancy trying its feet, and lisping its first words. The Sicilian certainly, in accordance with a tendency common to all dialects, in passing from the spoken to the written form, must have gained in dignity; but this was not enough to create the so-called “lingua illustre,” which was upheld by Perticari and others on grounds rather political than literary.

In the 13th century a mighty religious movement took place in Italy, of which the rise of the two great orders of Saint Francis and Saint Dominic was at once the cause and the effect. Around Francis of Assisi a legend has grown Religious lyric poetry in Umbria. up in which naturally the imaginative element prevails. Yet from some points in it we seem to be able to infer that its hero had a strong feeling for nature, and a heart open to the most lively impressions. Many poems are attributed to him. The legend relates that in the eighteenth year of his penance, when almost rapt in ecstasy, he dictated the Cantico del Sole. Even if this hymn be really his, it cannot be considered as a poetical work, being written in a kind of prose simply marked by assonances. As for the other poems, which for a long time were believed to be by Saint Francis, their spuriousness is now generally recognized. The true poet who represented in all its strength and breadth the religious feeling that had made special progress in Umbria was Jacopo dei Benedetti of Todi, known as Jacopone. The story is that sorrow at the sudden death of his wife had disordered his mind, and that, having sold all he possessed and given it to the poor, he covered himself with rags, and took pleasure in being laughed at, and followed by a crowd of people who mocked him and called after him “Jacopone, Jacopone.” We do not know whether this be true. What we do know is that a vehement passion must have stirred his heart and maintained a despotic hold over him, the passion of divine love. Under its influence Jacopone went on raving for years and years, subjecting himself to the severest sufferings, and giving vent to his religious intoxication in his poems. There is no art in him, there is not the slightest indication of deliberate effort; there is only feeling, a feeling that absorbed him, fascinated him, penetrated him through and through. His poetry was all inside him, and burst out, not so much in words as in sighs, in groans, in cries that often seem really to come from a monomaniac. But Jacopone was a mystic, who from his hermit’s cell looked out into the world and specially watched the papacy, scourging with his words Celestine V. and Boniface VIII. He was put in prison and laden with chains, but his spirit lifted itself up to God, and that was enough for him. The same feeling that prompted him to pour out in song ecstasies of divine love, and to despise and trample on himself, moved him to reprove those who forsook the heavenly road, whether they were popes, prelates or monks. In Jacopone there was a strong originality, and in the period of the origins of Italian literature he was one of the most characteristic writers.

The religious movement in Umbria was followed by another literary phenomenon, that of the religious drama. In 1258 an old hermit, Raniero Fasani, leaving the cavern in which he had lived for many years, suddenly appeared The religious drama. at Perugia. These were very sad times for Italy. The quarrels in the cities, the factions of the Ghibellines and the Guelphs, the interdicts and excommunications issued by the popes, the reprisals of the imperial party, the cruelty and tyranny of the nobles, the plagues and famines, kept the people in constant agitation, and spread abroad mysterious fears. The commotion was increased in Perugia by Fasani, who represented himself as sent by God to disclose mysterious visions, and to announce to the world terrible visitations. Under the influence of fear there were formed “Compagnie di Disciplinanti,” who, for a penance, scourged themselves till they drew blood, and sang “Laudi” in dialogue in their confraternities. These “Laudi,” closely connected with the liturgy, were the first example of the drama in the vulgar tongue of Italy. They were written in the Umbrian dialect, in verses of eight syllables, and of course they have not any artistic value. Their development, however, was rapid. As early as the end of the same 13th century we have the Devozioni del Giovedì e Venerdì Santo, which have some dramatic elements in them, though they are still connected with the liturgical office. Then we have the representation di un Monaco che andò al servizio di Dio (“of a monk who entered the service of God”), in which there is already an approach to the definite form which this kind of literary work assumed in the following centuries.

In the 13th century Tuscany was peculiarly circumstanced both as regards its literary condition and its political life. The Tuscans spoke a dialect which most closely resembled the mother-tongue, Latin—one which afterwards Tuscan poetry. became almost exclusively the language of literature, and which was already regarded at the end of the 13th century as surpassing the others; “Lingua Tusca magis apta est ad literam sive literaturam”: thus writes Antonio da Tempo of Padua, born about 1275. Being very little or not at all affected by the Germanic invasion, Tuscany was never subjected to the feudal system. It had fierce internal struggles, but they did not weaken its life; on the contrary, they rather gave it fresh vigour and strengthened it, and (especially after the final fall of the Hohenstaufens at the battle of Benevento in 1266) made it the first province of Italy. From 1266 onwards Florence was in a position to begin that movement of political reform which in 1282 resulted in the appointment of the Priori delle Arti, and the establishment of the Arti Minori. This was afterwards copied by Siena with the Magistrato dei Nove, by Lucca, by Pistoia, and by other Guelph cities in Tuscany with similar popular institutions. In this way the gilds had taken the government into their hands, and it was a time of both social and political prosperity. It was no wonder that literature also rose to an unlooked-for height. In Tuscany, too, there was some popular love poetry; there was a school of imitators of the Sicilians, their chief being Dante of Majano; but its literary originality took another line—that of humorous and satirical poetry. The entirely democratic form of government created a style of poetry which stood in the strongest antithesis to the medieval mystic and chivalrous style. Devout invocation of God or of a lady came from the cloister and the castle; in the streets of the cities everything that had gone before was treated with ridicule or biting sarcasm. Folgore of San Gimignano laughs when in his sonnets he tells a party of Sienese youths what are the occupations of every month in the year, or when he teaches a party of Florentine lads the pleasures of every day in the week. Cene della Chitarra laughs when he parodies Folgore’s sonnets. The sonnets of Rustico di Filippo are half fun and half satire; laughing and crying, joking and satire, are all to be found in Cecco Angiolieri of Siena, the oldest “humorist” we know, a far-off precursor of Rabelais, of Montaigne, of Jean Paul Richter, of Sydney Smith. But another kind of poetry also began in Tuscany. Guittone d’ Arezzo made art quit chivalrous for national motives, Provençal forms for Latin. He attempted political poetry, and, although his work is full of the strangest obscurities, he prepared the way for the Bolognese school. In the 13th century Bologna was the city of science, and philosophical poetry appeared there. Guido Guinicelli was the poet after the new fashion of the art. In him the ideas of chivalry are changed and enlarged; he sings of love and, together with it, of the nobility of the mind. The reigning thought in Guinicelli’s Canzoni is nothing external to his own subjectivity. His speculative mind, accustomed to wandering in the field of philosophy, transfuses its lucubrations into his art. Guinicelli’s poetry has some of the faults of the school of Guittone d’Arezzo: he reasons too much; he is wanting in imagination; his poetry is a product of the intellect rather than of the fancy and the heart. Nevertheless he marks a great development in the history of Italian art, especially because of his close connexion with Dante’s lyric poetry.

But before we come to Dante, certain other facts, not, however, unconnected with his history, must be noticed. In the 13th century, there were several poems in the allegorical style. One of these is by Brunetto Latini, who, it Allegorical poetry. is well known, was attached by ties of strong affection to Alighieri. His Tesoretto is a short poem, in seven-syllable verses, rhyming in couplets, in which the author professes to be lost in a wilderness and to meet with a lady, who is Nature, from whom he receives much instruction. We see here the vision, the allegory, the instruction with a moral object—three elements which we shall find again in the Divina Commedia. Francesco da Barberino, a learned lawyer who was secretary to bishops, a judge, a notary, wrote two little allegorical poems—the Documenti d’ amore and Del reggimento e dei costumi delle donne. Like the Tesoretto, these poems are of no value as works of art, but are, on the other hand, of importance in the history of manners. A fourth allegorical work was the Intelligenza, by some attributed to Dino Compagni, but probably not his, and only a version of French poems.

While the production of Italian poetry in the 13th century was abundant and varied, that of prose was scanty. The oldest specimen dates from 1231, and consists of short notices of entries and expenses by Mattasalà di Prose in 13th century. Spinello dei Lambertini of Siena. In 1253 and 1260 there are some commercial letters of other Sienese. But there is no sign of literary prose. Before we come to any, we meet with a phenomenon like that we noticed in regard to poetry. Here again we find a period of Italian literature in French. Halfway on in the century a certain Aldobrando or Aldobrandino (it is not known whether he was of Florence or of Siena) wrote a book for Beatrice of Savoy, countess of Provence, called Le Régime du corps. In 1267 Martino da Canale wrote in the same “langue d’oil” a chronicle of Venice. Rusticiano of Pisa, who was for a long while at the court of Edward I. of England, composed many chivalrous romances, derived from the Arthurian cycle, and subsequently wrote the travels of Marco Polo, which may perhaps have been dictated by the great traveller himself. And finally Brunetto Latini wrote his Tesoro in French.