NARDI. by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
A Florentine exile named Nardi finds himself in the grand Roman palace of Cardinal Hippolito, feeling utterly out of place.
The poem
I am bewildered. These Numidian slaves, In strange attire; these endless ante-chambers; This lighted hall, with all its golden splendors, Pictures, and statues! Can this be the dwelling Of a disciple of that lowly Man Who had not where to lay his head? These statues Are not of Saints; nor is this a Madonna, This lovely face, that with such tender eyes Looks down upon me from the painted canvas. My heart begins to fail me. What can he Who lives in boundless luxury at Rome Care for the imperilled liberties of Florence, Her people, her Republic? Ah, the rich Feel not the pangs of banishment. All doors Are open to them, and all hands extended, The poor alone are outcasts; they who risked All they possessed for liberty, and lost; And wander through the world without a friend, Sick, comfortless, distressed, unknown, uncared for. Enter CARDINAL HIPPOLITO, in Spanish cloak and slouched hat.
A Florentine exile named Nardi finds himself in the grand Roman palace of Cardinal Hippolito, feeling utterly out of place. He contrasts the Cardinal's extravagant lifestyle with the modest teachings of Christ, questioning how someone immersed in such wealth could truly care about the freedom of Florence. The poem concludes on a somber note: while the wealthy can always find a place to belong, the poor who fought and sacrificed for freedom are left with nothing.
Line-by-line
I am bewildered. These Numidian slaves, / In strange attire; these endless ante-chambers;
This lighted hall, with all its golden splendors, / Pictures, and statues!
Can this be the dwelling / Of a disciple of that lowly Man / Who had not where to lay his head?
These statues / Are not of Saints; nor is this a Madonna,
My heart begins to fail me. What can he / Who lives in boundless luxury at Rome / Care for the imperilled liberties of Florence,
Ah, the rich / Feel not the pangs of banishment.
The poor alone are outcasts; they who risked / All they possessed for liberty, and lost;
And wander through the world without a friend, / Sick, comfortless, distressed, unknown, uncared for.
Tone & mood
The tone is bitter and disillusioned, but it never crosses into rage. Nardi speaks softly, almost as if he’s talking to himself, which makes his criticism of the Cardinal feel more impactful than a straightforward confrontation would. Beneath the bitterness lies grief — the grief of a man who had faith in something and saw it collapse. The final series of adjectives conveys a sense of tired resignation rather than anger.
Symbols & metaphors
- The palace and its golden splendors — The Cardinal's luxurious surroundings highlight the Church's corruption and the apathy of those in power. Each gilded detail shows that the man Nardi seeks help from exists in a world cut off from suffering.
- The secular statues and the painted face — The lack of saints alongside a stunning earthly portrait suggests that the Cardinal's genuine loyalties lie with the material world rather than the divine. This serves as visual evidence of the hypocrisy that Nardi suspects.
- The open doors — Doors that swing open for the wealthy symbolize access, privilege, and a sense of belonging. In contrast, for those in poverty, every door remains closed. This image transforms a simple physical object into a reflection of social justice.
- The 'lowly Man' (Christ) — Christ, who possessed nothing and had no permanent residence, serves as the quiet benchmark for judging the Cardinal, who falls short. Nardi avoids naming him directly, making the reference feel more like an intimate reflection than a formal sermon.
- Wandering — The image of the poor exile wandering "through the world" reflects the old notion of banishment as a form of living death. To aimlessly wander without a destination means losing one's sense of identity and belonging.
Historical context
This passage features a dramatic monologue from Longfellow's verse play *Michael Angelo*, which was published posthumously in 1883. The speaker is Nardi, a republican exile from Florence. The historical Jacopo Nardi was an actual person—a Florentine historian and statesman who spent many years in exile after the Medici regained control and dismantled the Florentine Republic in 1530. Cardinal Hippolito de' Medici, whom Nardi visits, was a multifaceted character: a Medici prince with genuine political ambitions and some sympathy for Florence, yet he lived lavishly as part of the Renaissance Roman aristocracy. Longfellow wrote the play in his later years, reflecting his long-standing fascination with Renaissance Italy, shaped by his youth spent there and his translations of Dante. This scene encapsulates the genuine historical conflict between republican ideals and the harsh realities of power.
FAQ
Nardi is inspired by the actual Jacopo Nardi, a Florentine statesman and historian who faced exile after the Medici family defeated the Florentine Republic in 1530. He has made his way to Rome to seek the support of Cardinal Hippolito de' Medici, hoping the Cardinal will leverage his influence to help bring back Florentine freedom.
The conflict lies in Nardi's vision of republican idealism versus the power dynamics he observes in the Cardinal's palace. He arrived seeking an ally, but the opulence around him raises doubts about whether someone who lives in such luxury can genuinely care about the freedom of everyday Florentines.
He uses Christ as a moral benchmark. Christ, who owned nothing, is the model a Church leader is meant to follow. By highlighting how the Cardinal's palace contrasts sharply with the life of 'that lowly Man,' Nardi subtly implies that the Cardinal is hypocritical without directly saying it.
He suggests that wealth protects individuals from the true suffering of exile. A wealthy person forced to leave his city can just relocate to another one, purchase a nice home, and be embraced by fellow affluent individuals. In contrast, a poor exile lacks that safety net—he roams, ill and unrecognized, with no one to assist him.
It is both. The passage is from Longfellow's verse play *Michael Angelo*, which is written in blank verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter). The stage direction at the end — 'Enter CARDINAL HIPPOLITO' — shows that it's intended to be performed or read as a drama, yet the language remains poetic throughout.
Blank verse is poetry that doesn’t rhyme, crafted in iambic pentameter—lines of about ten syllables with a natural rhythm (da-DUM da-DUM da-DUM). Longfellow employs this style, continuing the legacy of Shakespeare and Milton. This choice lends the speech a formal, elevated tone while still capturing the essence of someone reflecting aloud.
The stack of five adjectives is intentional. Each one contributes another layer of abandonment, and experiencing them in order is like witnessing someone lose everything piece by piece. It also slows the reader down, giving the ending a sense of weight and fatigue instead of drama.
The stage direction is a subtle yet significant detail. Spanish fashion in Renaissance Italy was linked to the Habsburg imperial power, which had played a role in defeating the Florentine Republic. The Cardinal's choice to dress in Spanish style indicates his support for the very forces that dismantled what Nardi was fighting to uphold.