An admirer once wrote that vittoria colonna's way of speaking was “so compelling that it seems almost as if her words are like chains, captivating her listeners.” The poet Bernardo Tasso claimed that she had “attained the highest degree of perfection in every art and science, far surpassing Sappho and all others who are most famous in good literature.” He dedicated his own book to her because her accomplishments gave her wings to “soar above the stars” and rays that “illuminated this our age.” He hoped that this radiant power would clear away the imperfections of his own work. In similarly exalted terms, Margaret More Roper's letters were hailed as marvelous by Reginald Pole and others. Erasmus deemed Roper one of the “glories” of her generation, remarkable for her learning and virtue and the model for an exemplary way of life. As these examples illustrate, in a culture rife with misogyny, accomplished and privileged women like Colonna and Roper were lavished with praise.

And why not? Praise was part of the elite culture's gift economy, and it was effusive for the same reasons that gifts were excessive: Unlike currency or contracts, these hyperbolic offerings obliged the recipient in ways that were inescapable precisely because they were unquantifiable. Upper-class persons schooled in rhetoric used praise to create allegiances, flatter patrons, and make friends. Women who could trade in social power were part of this system.