The Adventures of Enea, Part 4 of 13
Gate and Column
Enea celebrates the wedding of Frederick and Leonor
He owned a benefice “out there”, beyond Ravenna,
but now, in middle age, he’s coming home.
The action’s moved to native-town Siena,
though interspersed with roistering in Rome.
The countryside was never lusher, blander
(at centre-right, the campanile and dome
of Enea’s cathedral). Now a pandar,
and Bishop of Siena, there he stands.
The princess, gorgeous goose. Her randy gander
enthusiastically takes her hand.
Both Leonor and Enea have a master
in Frederick. The meeting, so long planned,
now permanently pledged in paint and plaster,
has come about. The careful Sienese
will toil for them, but won’t avert disaster.
But that’s ahead. Today, they are two trees:
That’s Frederick, the sturdy, healthy pine.
Exotic Leonor, who’s Portuguese,
a slender palm tree. Every little sign
is phallic. That anachronistic column,
the city towers, lances which incline
on lusty shoulders: and, of course, the solemn
Camollia Gate is welcoming, vaginal.
All those armed men – suspicione dolum?
The tree that’s withered, ailing, saturnine’ll
encapsulate Enea, or Pinturicchio?
The Pupil painted it. The verdict’s final.
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