kwaw said:
For example, Giordano Bruno makes a pun on Lombard and crayfish.
Kwaw
THE. You, Mister Prudenzio, are too prudent; let us leave, I beg you, these discourses in grammar, and take count [of the fact] that this reasoning of ours is a dialogue: for four persons as we may be, we shall be two in functioning, namely, to propose and to reply, to reason and to listen. Or to make a start and to report the business from its beginning, come 0 Muses, and inspire me. I am not talking to you who speak in puffcd up and haughty verse in Helicon,
[12. A mountain In southern Greece, regarded as the home of the Muses.] for I doubt that you might not pity me in the end, when after having made such a long and tiresome pilgrimage, traversed such perilous seas, tasted such tough customs, there comes the need to go barefoot and one soon returns home naked,
because there is no fish for the Lom- bards. [13. A play on the word Lombardi which also could mean crayfish. The meaning of the phrase is that nothing is to be gained.] I allow that you are not only strangers, but are also of that race of which a poet said:
There was never a Greek clean of malice.
[14. The quote is a Brunian fusion or confusion of two lines in the Morgante of the Rcnaissance poet, Luigi Puld (1432-84).]
Moreover, I cannot fall in love with something which I do not see. Others, others are those who have captivated my soul. To you others do I address myself, you gracious, gentle, soft, tender, young, beautiful, delicate beings, blond tresses, white cheeks, rosy faces, delicious lips, divine eyes, breasts of enamel, hearts of diamond; with your help so many thoughts I put together in my mind, so many affections I collect in my soul, so many passions I generate in my life, so many tears I shed from my eyes, so many sighs I emit from my chest, and so many flames I spark from my heart; to you O Muses of England I address myself, inspire me, help me, scold me, enkindle me, prompt me, make me flow, and turn me into sweet juiccs, and make me resemble not a small, delicate, formal, short, succinct epigram, but an ample and copious vein of long prose, flowing grand and bubbling; and let my currents go forth not as from a narrow pen, but as from a wide canal. And you, my Mnemosine
[goddess of memory], hidden under thirty seals, and closeted inside the gloomy prisons of the shadows of ideas, sing a little in my cars.
Giordano Bruno
THE ASH WEDNESDAY SUPPER
LA CENA DE LE CENERI
Translated with an Introduction and Notes
by
STANLEY L. JAKI
Italics Jaki's notes. Bold my emphasis
Kwaw