Vitruvius Pollio, I dieci libri dell?architettura, 1567

Table of figures

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                  Tanto, che ſi condenſa, & ſi riſtrigne
                    <lb/>
                  In folta nebbia, & di nera ſembianza,
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006181">
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                  Il freddo è la cagion, che la coſtrigne
                    <lb/>
                  Come ſponga, che d'acqua piena ſia
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                  Spreme l'humor, che la terra dipigne.
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006182">
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                  Tal'hor minute ſon le goccie in uia,
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                  Tal'hor piu groſſe, come che'l ſoggetto
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                  Piu copioſo, o meno ſi diſuia.
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006183">
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                  Et ſpeſſo l'aer puro in ſe riſtretto,
                    <lb/>
                  Da potenza ſupern'in pioggia uolto,
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                  Acqua giu manda piena di diletto.
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006184">
                    <emph type="italics"/>
                  Queſta nel grembo della terr'accolto,
                    <lb/>
                  Pregna la rende, ond'ella poi s'infiora,
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                  E in uerdeggiante gonna ha il ſen'in uolto.
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006185">
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                  Poſcia Vertunno, con Pomona, & Flora
                    <lb/>
                  E'l padre Bacco, & mill'antichi numi,
                    <lb/>
                  Lodan'il Sol, che ſi bell'anno honora.
                    <emph.end type="italics"/>
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006186">
                    <emph type="italics"/>
                  Ma quando l' aer riuers'i ſuoi fiumi,
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                  Come da i monti delle nubi aperte,
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                  Con ſpauentoſi, e horribili coſtumi.
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                  Et ſon le uoci ſtrepitoſe inſerte
                    <lb/>
                  Del mormorar', e in ogni parte rugge
                    <lb/>
                  Con fiamme ſparſe, mobili, & incerte:
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006188">
                    <emph type="italics"/>
                  Cio naſce dal ſoffiar, ch'intorno mugge,
                    <lb/>
                  Et con gran forza indura il foſco nembo,
                    <lb/>
                  Ch'impatiente del legame fugge.
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                <p type="main">
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                  Però ſi uede hor anguloſo, hor gembo
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                  L'aſpetto della nube intorno cinta
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                  Da ſi feroc', e impetuoſo lembo.
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006190">
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                  Ma perche ſia la mia ragion diſtinta,
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                  Dirò de ſegni della pioggia, & quali
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                  Et quanti ſon con maeſtreuol tinta.
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006191">
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                  Chi ued'il fumo con ſue turbid'ali
                    <lb/>
                  Salir'al Cielo, & apparir in forma
                    <lb/>
                  Di nebbia, o di uapori, o fumi tali',
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006192">
                    <emph type="italics"/>
                  Puo giudicar ſenz'hauer altra norma
                    <lb/>
                  Che l'aer pregno a piouer s'apparecchi,
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                  Che raro in altra coſa ſi trasforma.
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006193">
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                  Quand'anche dietro a gli humidi, & rubecchi
                    <lb/>
                  Vapor'il Sol roſſeggia in oriente,
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                  Segn'è di pioggia, & di ſuoi molli ſpecchi.
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                  Il gracidar della fangoſa gente,
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                  Et d'alcun'uccelletti il canto moſtra
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                  La piu groſſa rugiada eſſer preſente.
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                <p type="main">
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                  L'auida pecorell'anche il dimoſtra
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                  Col ſuo morſo bramoſo, & l'arrogante
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                  Moſca, che ſempre uuol uincer la gioſtra,
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                  Lo ſcintillar delle lucerne innante,
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                  Inditio d'acqua copioſa porge,
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                  Et l'humido del muro circoſtante.
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                <p type="main">
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                  Quando con men liquor'il fonte ſorge,
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                  Et con corſo men fort'il fium'è moſſo,
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                  Vn buon giuditio del piouer s'accorge.
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006198">
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                  Mill'altri ſegniſon, che dir non poſſo,
                    <lb/>
                  In breue ſpatio, & da quei ſaui inteſi,
                    <lb/>
                  Ch'affatican del mar l'humido doſſo.
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                <p type="main">
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                  Molti ne ſon da agricoltori appreſi,
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                  Et molti ancor dalle genti, che ſanno
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                  L'uſanza, & i costumi de paeſi,
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                <p type="main">
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                    <emph type="italics"/>
                  Ch'è inanzi il caſo il ſucceſſo diranno.
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                <p type="head">
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                  CAPITOLO.
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                </p>
                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006202">
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                  L'anima ſemplicetta, che diſcende
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                  Dalla celeſt'alla terrena ſtanza,
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                  Aſſai meno, che prim'il uero apprende,
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                <p type="main">
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                  Perche diſtolta dalla prim'uſanza,
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                  Rinchiuſa come Danae nel fondo,
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                  Viue della miſerrima ignoranza.
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                <p type="main">
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                  Il benigno ſuo padre, che nel mondo
                    <lb/>
                  Volle mandarla del ſuo amore acceſo
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                  Si cangia in Oro lucid', & fecondo.
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                <p type="main">
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                  L'oro e'l ſaper', & il bel uero inteſo,
                    <lb/>
                  Che da benigno influſſo nella mente
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                  Fa ricco l'huomo ſoura Mida, o Creſo.
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006206">
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                  Cos'il perduto bene tra la gente
                    <lb/>
                  Del ſecolo ſi trou', & ſiracquiſta,
                    <lb/>
                  Ma non ſenza fatica, o ſtudio ardente.
                    <emph.end type="italics"/>
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006207">
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                  Ben'è la conoſcenza alquanto miſta
                    <lb/>
                  Da fantaſime, & forme, che dal ſenſo
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                  Naſcono in noi dall'udit', & la uiſta.
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                <p type="main">
                  <s id="s.006208">
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                  Trouas'infine dallo ſtudio immenſo
                    <lb/>
                  Coſi puro & purgato l'intelletto,
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                  Che rend'a Gioue l'honorato cenſo.
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                <p type="main">
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                  Queſto ſi uede chiar da quel, che ho detto,
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                  Ch'oltr' il bel uer delle notitie prime
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                  Da gli accidenti naſce il uer concetto.
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                  <s id="s.006210">
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                  Queſti n'han fatto con ſcienze opime
                    <lb/>
                  Tornar delle materie, nelle quali
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                  La forza del calor uero s'imprime.
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                  I lampi, le comete, i fuochi tali
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                  Per le coſe uiſibiliſon fatti
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                  A gl'intelletti de gli huomini eguali.
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                <p type="main">
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                  Et gli humidi uapor' anche ſon tratti
                    <lb/>
                  Per l'accidente alla notitia noſtra,
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                  Come ſi fanno, & come ſon disfatti.
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