Agrimant. ↩
Red was the colour of Rodomont (as we have seen in a former canto), and the ill dye which this had received, and its faded condition, indicate the feeble and evanescent character of the impression which he had made upon Flordelice. Green (on the significancy of which I have before remarked) was indicative of her light and wanton disposition. ↩
Gradasso. ↩
Orlando. ↩
Rodomont. ↩
Marsilius. ↩
Agramant. ↩
The reader must recur to the Innamorato for all these robberies of Brunello. ↩
Rodomont. ↩
The Delphic Apollo, whose oracle was famous for the solution of all questions and difficulties. ↩
Mandricardo. ↩
A Venetian gentleman mentioned by the poet among his friends in the forty-sixth canto, and of whom he has here antedated the existence. This is among the names (in Venetian, Valièr) of the first twelve families of Venice (entitled le dodici famiglie fondatrici di Venezia), respecting which it is a curious fact, that by far the greater portion, that of Valièr or Valerio among the rest, has survived the extinction of the republic. ↩
Credeano che da lor si fosse tolto.
Per gire a Roma, e gito era a Corneto.
As an exact equivalent, we might say, if the scene were laid in England, that they thought he was gone to London, whereas he had gone to Hornsey. ↩
That is, at Sienna and Florence; Sienna being situated upon the Arbia, and Florence upon the Arno. ↩
Ariosto seems to have got sight of the story which forms the prologue to the Arabian Nights. ↩
Not upon the figured representation of the lamb of God, as the reader might possibly suppose, but upon the host; as appears from a verse in a succeeding stanza.
Since on the holy wafer he had sworn.
St. XLIV l. 8.
I have already observed that serjeant in its general signification formerly meant servant. ↩
Lines 7 and 8 were not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
This verse was not translated by William Stewart Rose. The text in its place is the original Italian from a 1556 edition. —Emma Sweeney ↩
Caelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt.
Hor.
Though this episode is distinguished by that felicity of expression and neatness of narration so peculiarly characteristic of Ariosto, I cannot think it deserving of all the encomiums which have been bestowed upon it. It is, as I conceive, deficient in that dramatic truth which is equally characteristic of his style, and is generally so well observed by him. What, for instance, can be more extravagant than the conception of the leading incident? We may almost say, that extreme hypocrisy and extreme debauchery are never found together; for there are always some dregs of truth, however muddy, at the bottom of hypocrisy. If this be true, the character of the wife is not in nature; but supposing her character to be in nature, how can we imagine that a husband, who was tied to her apron-string, should never have entertained the least suspicion of her perverse predilection? Is it not yet more extravagant to suppose that this abused husband, who had surprised her in
