While singing these verses, after Lorenzo's death, afflicted at the sad loss they commemorated, and by the adverse events which followed, a spasm of grief seized him, his heart suddenly broke from excess of feeling, and he died on the spot. He died on the 24th of September, 1494, having just completed his 40th year, and having survived his illustrious friend little more than two years.

BERNARDO PULCI

More celebrated as an Italian poet than Politian, is Luigi Pulci, author of "Morgante Maggiore." Very little is known of his private history. There were three brothers of this family, which is one of the most ancient in Florence, since it carried back its origin to one of the French families who settled in that city in the time of Charlemagne: their fortunes, however, were decayed. Bernardo, the elder, wrote an elegy on Cosimo de' Medici; and another very sweet and graceful sonnet on the death of Simonetta, whom Giuliano de' Medici loved. He translated the Eclogues of Virgil into Italian, and wrote other pastoral poetry.

LUCA PULCI

Luca Pulci wrote the "Giostra di Lorenzo," before mentioned; various poetic epistles, and two longer poems; one called the "Driadeo d' Amore," a pastoral founded on mythological fables; and the other, the "Ciriffo Calvaneo," a romantic narrative poem, deficient in that interest and poetic excellence necessary to attract readers in the present day.

LUIGI PULCI

Luigi Pulci is the most celebrated of the brothers. It was at the instigation of Lucrezia Tornabuoni, mother of Lorenzo de' Medici, who has been before mentioned for her talents and love of literature, that he wrote the "Morgante Maggiore;" and Bernardo Tasso, father of the great poet, relates that he read the cantos, as they were written, at the table of Lorenzo.[85] Nothing is known of the latter part of Luigi Pulci's life. Alessandro Zilioli, in his inedited "Memoirs of Italian Poets," cited by Apostolo Zeno, narrates that Pulci died in a state of penury at Padua, and that, from the impiety of his writings, he was denied the rites of Christian burial; but he is the only writer who mentions this, and no great faith can be reposed in him.

The poem of "Morgante Maggiore" has excited much discussion, as to whether it is intended to be considered a burlesque or serious poem. There is little of what is absolutely tragic; but much that is romantic and interesting, mingled, as in the tragedies of Shakspeare, with comedy. It is true that Pulci, while he relates wonders, does so in a language so colloquial, as to detract from the dignity of his heroes and the majesty of the adventures recounted; but in this he rather imitates than travesties real life, and especially the life of the chivalrous ages, during which there was so strange a mixture of the grand and the ridiculous. While reading the poem, it seems difficult to understand the foundation of the dispute, of whether it be impious, and whether it be burlesque: it is at once evident that the serious parts are intended to be elevated and tragic. Dr. Panizzi's essay is clear and decisive on this point; and with him we may quote Ugo Foscolo, who says, that "the comic humour of the Italian narrative poems arises from the contrast between the constant endeavours of the writers to adhere to the forms and subjects of the popular story-tellers, and the efforts made, at the same time, by the genius of those writers, to render these materials interesting and sublime." Yet, doubtless. Pulci, as well as other writers of romantic narrative poems, introduces comedy, or, rather, farce, designedly. Tasso alone, in his "Gerusalemme," adhered to classic forms, and preserved the elevation of epic majesty, unmingled with wit and ridicule.

The origin of the romantic tales of Charlemagne and his Paladins, made so popular by Ariosto, and celebrated by Pulci, Boiardo, and other poets, has been much treated of. Earlier than these were "The Adventures of the Knights of the Round Table of King Arthur." French authors have asserted that these also are founded on stories of Charlemagne; but Dr. Panizzi asserts them to be of Welsh origin: he quotes Marie de France, who declares that she translated several fabliaux from British originals; and Chaucer, who, in the "Franklin's Tale," says—

The long narrative romances of Amadis of Gaul and Palmerin of England (which the curate saved out of the general burning of Don Quixote's library) are supposed to be founded on various old lays and tales put together in regular narration. In the same way, the adventures of the French knights may be supposed to be founded on songs and romances composed to celebrate favourite heroes. The authority perpetually quoted by them all is archbishop Turpin. This romance is supposed to have been written during the time of the first crusade: pope Calistus II. quotes it in a bull dated 1122, and pronounces it to be genuine. From this, as from one source, the Italians drew, or pretended to draw, the various adventures of their heroes. In all their poems these are the same, and their peculiar characters are preserved; yet many of these personages are not even mentioned by Turpin: the events of his book are the wars of Charlemagne in Spain against the Saracens, and the defeat of the Paladins at Roncesvalles, through the treachery of Gano.

Milone, a distant relative of Charlemagne, and Bertha, the emperor's sister, were the parents of Orlando. His childhood was spent in obscurity and hardships, owing to the banishment of Milone and his wife when their marriage was discovered. He was clothed by the charity of four young friends, who brought cloth to cover him: two bought white, and two red; whence Orlando adopted his coat of arms, del quartiere. Charlemagne saw him on his road to Rome, Orlando introducing himself to his imperial uncle's notice by stealing a plate of meat for his mother. On this he was recognised; castles and lands were bestowed on him, he became the prop of the throne, and married Alda, or Aldabella, who was also connected with the royal family.

The personage who ranks next to him in celebrity is his cousin Rinaldo of Montalbano. Montalbano, or Montauban, is a city on the banks of the Tarn, near its junction with the Garonne. It is said to have been built in 1144, after the date of archbishop Turpin's book, who makes no mention of it or its lord. It is a stronghold; and, even now, an old fortress, in the most ancient part of it, is called le Chateau de Renaud. Aymon, duke of Dordona, had four sons; the eldest was Rinaldo, who, having, in a transport of rage, killed Charlemagne's nephew Berthelot with a blow of a chess-board, was, with all his family, except his father, banished and outlawed. They betook themselves to the forests and the lives of banditti; and, proceeding to Gasgony, Yon, king of Bordeaux, gave his sister Clarice in marriage to Rinaldo, and permitted him to build the castle of Montauban. After several disasters, he went to the Holy Land, and, on his return, made peace with the emperor. The machinery of these poems is chiefly conducted, in the first place, by the treachery of Gano of Mayence, who is perpetually trusted by Charlemagne, and perpetually betrays him, turning his malice principally against the celebrated warriors of his court, while they are protected by Rinaldo's cousin Malagigi, or Maugis, son of Beuves, or Buovo, of Aygremont. Malagigi was brought up by the fairy Orianda, and became a great enchanter. To vary the serious characters of the drama, Astolfo, the English cousin of Orlando, being equally descended with him from Charles Martel, is introduced. Astolfo is a boaster: he is perpetually undertaking great feats, which he is unable to perform; but he is generous, and brave to foolhardiness, courteous, gay, and singularly handsome.

The family of the heroes of romance has been the more dilated upon, as it serves as an introduction to all the poems. But to return to Pulci, who is immediately before us.

His poem wants the elevation, the elegance, and idealism of Boiardo and Ariosto; but it is not on that account merely burlesque: it has been supposed to be impious, on account of each chapter being addressed to the Divinity, or, more frequently, to the Virgin. But in those days men were on a much more familiar footing than now with the objects of their worship; and, even at present, in purely catholic countries,—in Italy, for example,—the most sacred names are alluded to in a way which sounds like blasphemy to our ears, but which makes an integral part of their religion. There is but one passage in the "Morgante," hereafter to be noticed, which really savours of unbelief. Thus, as seriously, or, at least, with as little feeling of blasphemy, as an alderman says grace before a turtle feast. Pulci begins his poem[86]:—

The scope of the poem is then, in true epic fashion, summed up in a few lines[87]:—

The poet then introduces the immediate object of the poem. On Christmas day Charlemagne held his court, and the emperor was over-glad to see all his noble Paladins around him. His favour shown towards Orlando excited the spleen of Gano, who openly attacked him as too presumptuous and powerful. Orlando overhearing his words, and perceiving Charlemagne's ready credulity, drew his sword in a rage, and would have killed the slanderer, had not Ulivieri interposed. On this Orlando quits Paris, full of grief and rage, and goes forth to wander over the world in search of adventures. His first enterprise is undertaken in behalf of a convent, besieged by three giants, who amused themselves by throwing fragments of rock and trees torn up by the roots, into the courts and garden of the monastery, which kept the poor monks in perpetual alarm. Notwithstanding their dissuasions, Orlando conceives this to be an adventure worthy of him: he goes out against the pagan and monstrous assailants. He kills two in single combat, and then goes to seek the fiercest and mightiest of the three, Morgante. This ferocious giant has retired, meanwhile, to a cavern of his own fashioning, and was dreaming uneasily of a serpent who came to slay him, which was only defeated by his having recourse to the name of the Christian Saviour. This disposed him to submission and conversion, and Orlando, delighted with these good dispositions, embraces and baptizes him. The monks are very grateful for their deliverance, and desirous to keep their preserver; but Orlando, tired of idleness, takes a kind and affectionate leave of the abbot, whom he discovers to be a cousin of his own, and departs with his convert in search of adventures.

Meanwhile, Rinaldo, enraged at his cousin's departure, and the partiality displayed by the emperor for the traitor Gano, leaves the court with Ulivieri and Dudone in search of the wanderer. They meet with a variety of adventures, and join him at last in the court of king Caradoro, whom they aid in his war with king Manfredonio, who demanded, at the sword's point, the beautiful Meridiana, daughter of Caradoro, as his wife. Manfredonio is defeated. The verses that describe his final departure, at the persuasion of Meridiana, and the force of love which caused him to submit to her decree of banishment, forms one of the prettiest episodes of the Morgante. Meridiana falls in love with Ulivieri, who had delivered her: he converts her to Christianity; but this does not prevent him from following the example of the pious Æneas, and deserting her a short time after.

Gano was not content with the dispersion and exile of the Paladins: he sent messengers to Caradoro and Manfredonio, telling who the wanderers were, and inciting these monarchs to destroy them. Besides this, he invited Erminione, a Saracen king of Denmark, to attack France while unprotected by its bravest warriors. The king succeeds so well, that, besieging Paris, he took prisoner all the remaining Paladins; and poor Charlemagne, who cuts a sorry figure throughout the Morgante, sighs for the return of Orlando and Rinaldo. Gano triumphed, and offered one of the enemy's generals to deliver up Montalbano to him by treachery; Lionfante nobly refuses, and feels inclined to put the traitor to death; he is saved by the intercession of the family of Chiaramonte, who feared that if things were pushed to an extremity with him, his followers would revolt, and endanger the empire.

Orlando and his friends hearing in the course of their wanderings of the danger of Charlemagne, returned with a large army to deliver him. Gano wants to persuade the emperor that these allies are enemies in disguise; but the strength and valour of the most renowned Paladins are not to be mistaken. The magic arts of Malagigi the enchanter persuade Lionfante of the truth of the Christian religion: he is converted, and the war comes to an end, to the great discontent of the indefatigable Gano, who instantly begins to stir up another, informing Caradoro of the seduction of Meridiana, who sends a giant ambassador to complain to Charlemagne. The ambassador behaves with extreme impertinence, and is killed by Morgante.

Rinaldo, who is rather quarrelsome, has a dispute with Ulivieri, on which, at the instigation of Gano, he is banished; and he and Astolfo become bandits. Astolfo is taken by treachery, and sentenced to be hanged. Poor fellow! Astolfo, who is always good-humoured and courageous, is a kind of scape-goat, for ever in humiliating and dangerous situations. He is now worse off than ever; but while ascending the gallows, and while the halter is fitting, a tumult is made to save him, and Charlemagne, overpowered, to preserve his life and kingdom, pardons him and Rinaldo, and banishes Gano. But this was only done to gain time. The emperor hates the race of Chiaramonte in his heart; and Ricciardetto, the youngest brother of the house, being taken prisoner while Rinaldo is absent, Charlemagne resolves to hang him. The Paladins were highly indignant, and Orlando left the court; but Ricciardetto was saved by his brother Rinaldo, who drove the emperor from his throne, and forcing him to take refuge in one of Gano's castles, took possession of the sovereignty himself; till, hearing that Orlando was imprisoned and sentenced to die by a pagan king of Persia, he restores the emperor to his throne, causes Gano to be banished, and sets out to deliver his cousin, accompanied by Ulivieri and Ricciardetto. He succeeds in his attempt by means of Antea, the daughter of the king of Babylon, who falls in love with him. It is impossible to follow all the intricacies of the adventures and the wars that ensue, the interest of which is derived from the detail and expression, both lost in a brief abstract. Antea, while she continues to be devotedly attached to Rinaldo, is, on some treacherous suggestion of Gano, induced to enter France, and takes possession of the castle of Montalbano. Rinaldo is sent by her father against the old man of the mountain, whom he takes prisoner and converts to Christianity: and Orlando, who is engaged in fighting and conquering whole armies, hurries to deliver Ricciardetto and Ulivieri, who are going to be hanged by Antea's father.

Morgante had been left behind in France, but sets out to rejoin Orlando, and in his way to Babylon falls in with Margutte. Margutte is a singular invention, a caprice of the poet. Pulci resolved to paint a fellow without conscience, religion, humanity, or care for aught but the grossest indulgences of the senses. Lord Byron has imitated a part of his confession of faith in one of his poems:—

"My name is Margutte," says this strange being; "I was desirous of becoming a giant, but half way I repented, so that I am only ten feet high. I neither believe in black nor blue, but in capon, whether it be boiled or roast, and I have faith sometimes in butter and other good things; but above all, I put my trust in good wine. I believe in tarts and tartlets—the one is the mother, the other is the son;"—and he continues in a style of blasphemy more shocking to our protestant ears than those of the most pious catholics, who, as has been mentioned, are apt to allude in very familiar terms to the mysterious and almighty Beings, whom they do not the less on this account adore, and propitiate with prayer.

Margutte's adventures are conducted with a kind of straightforward wickedness which amuses from its very excess: at an inn, after eating up all that is to be got,—his appetite is enormous,—and robbing the host, he sets fire to the house, and departs with Morgante, rejoicing greatly in his success, and carrying off every thing he could lay his hands upon. They go travelling on, and meet with various adventures. Morgante is infinitely amused by his companion, but preserves a gentleness, a generosity, and kindness of heart, which contrasts agreeably with the other's unmeasured sensuality. At last, one morning, Morgante, to play him a trick, draws off Margutte's boots while he is asleep, and hides them; Margutte looks for them, and at length perceives an ape, who is putting them on and drawing them off; the sight of the animal thus engaged so tickles Margutte's fancy, that he laughs till he bursts. Morgante weeps over him, and buries him in a grotto. The whole episode of Margutte is distinct from the rest of the work. Pulci allows that it is not to be found in any of the old songs. Dr. Panizzi supposes, that under the name of Margutte is concealed some individual well known to Pulci and his friends, but at variance with them; and therefore made an object of sarcasm and ridicule.

We must hurry on to the conclusion of this poem, for the incidents are so multiplied and various, that it would occupy many pages to give an account of them. Poor Morgante dies—the gentle Christian giant, the defender of ladies, and fast friend of Orlando. He is on board a vessel which is wrecked, and he is saved on the back of a whale, but on landing is bitten by a crab on the heel: he ridicules the wound; but it proves fatal, and poor Morgante dies. Gano, a traitor to the end, is sent to Saragossa to treat with Marsiglio, who having been lately defeated, is to pay tribute to Charlemagne. He there schemes the destruction of Orlando, who, is to come slenderly accompanied to Roncesvalles to receive the tribute. The traitor arranges with the king that he shall advance accompanied by 600,000 men; who, divided into three armies, shall successively attack the Paladin and his few troops. One of the best passages of Pulci is the scene in which the treacherous attack of Roncesvalles is determined on between Marsiglio and Gano. After a solemn dinner they walked into the park, and sat down by a fountain in a solitary place. With the hesitation and confusion of traitors they are discussing the mode of destroying the famous Paladin, when heaven gives signs of anger by various and terrifying prodigies. Marsiglio's seat is upset; a laurel near is struck by a thunderbolt; the sun is obscured; a violent storm and earthquake fill them with alarm; then a fire breaks out above their heads, and the waters of the fountain overflowing are turned to burning blood; while the animals of the park attack each other. Gano is struck by the fall of a large fruit from a carob tree, (the tree on which Judas Iscariot is said to have hanged himself); his hair stands on end, and terror possesses his heart; but revenge is too burning within him to be quenched by fear, and the plot is proceeded in notwithstanding these frightful events. Orlando comes to Roncesvalles with a small force, rather a retinue than an army, to rereceive the gifts and submission of Marsiglio. The king is not neglectful of his part; his innumerable armies, one after the other, attack Orlando. The Paladin and his friends perform prodigies of valour; but, like waves of the sea, their enemies come on irresistible from their number. Orlando sees all die around him, and his soul is pierced with grief; yet not till he feels himself dying will he sound the mighty horn which is to give Charlemagne notice of his peril. The emperor hears the faint echo borne on the winds three distinct times, and he and all around him feel certain that treason is at work and Orlando in danger. They turn pale with terror, and hasten to the sad spot, where they find the noble warrior dead. Rinaldo is near him. Rinaldo, at the moment that the slaughter of Roncesvalles was preparing, was far away in Asia. Malagigi his cousin puts a devil named Astoroth into a horse, which is to bring him to his cousin's aid in a few hours. This journey of Rinaldo and the evil spirit forms a curious episode. They converse together on their way concerning things divine and infernal. On coming to this passage, the reader is struck by the lofty tone the poet assumes: there is a mingled disdain, dignity, and regret in the fallen angel, that moves at once compassion and respect: he is thus described[88]:—

It has been supposed that Pulci did not write this portion of the poem. Panizzi does not hesitate to give credit to the assertion of Tasso[89], who declares that it was written by Ficino. But Tasso affirms this merely upon hearsay, which is slender authority. There is nothing to which contemporaries are more prone than to discover that an author does not write his own works. There is nothing in the style of these stanzas unlike Pulci's best and more serious verses. Rinaldo's journey, thus accelerated, was however to no purpose in saving his cousin; he could only assist in his revenge—and the poem concludes with the hanging of Gano and Marsiglio, archbishop Turpin kindly undertaking to perform the last office for the king with his own hand, and ties him up to the famous carob tree.

The great beauty of the Morgante, besides scenes and passages of pathos and beauty, is derived from the simple, magnanimous, and tender character of Orlando. Charlemagne is a doting old man, Gano a traitor, Rinaldo a violent and headstrong warrior or robber, Astolfo vainglorious, but all are selfish and erring, except the singleminded and generous conte di Brava. He is the model of a true knight,—compassionate, sincere, and valiant: his death is courageous and pious: he thinks of the grief of the emperor, and the mourning of his wife Aldabella, and after recommending them to God, he embraces his famous sword Durlindana, and pressing it to his heart, and comforted by an angel from God, he fixes his eyes on heaven and expires.

CIECO DA FERRARA

The "Morgante Maggiore" is the first of a series of romantic narrative poems, which take Charlemagne and his Paladins for the heroes of their tales. The "Mambriano" of Cieco da Ferrara is one of these. The real name of the author was Francesco Bello. It has been said that he was called Cecco or Cieco from his blindness—but Cecco and Cecchino is the common Tuscan diminutive for Francesco. Little is known of this author, except the disaster that has already been mentioned, and that he was poor and lived at Ferrara, and recited the cantos of his poem, as they were written, at the table of the cardinal Ippolito da Este. [Sidenote: 1509.] Tiraboschi quotes from the dedication of Conosciuti, who published the "Mambriano" after the author's death; who therein begs the cardinal to take the poem under his care, and with his accustomed benevolence not to deny that favour to the memory of Francesco, which he so frequently and liberally bestowed during his life. Tiraboschi adds, that such expressions do not seem to him to accord with the idea that the poet lived and died poor. The bounty of a patron is, however, various and capricious, and, unless it takes the form of an annuity, seldom relieves the wants of a dependant; and we may take Francesco's word that he was poor when he says—"The howling of winds and roaring of waves which I hear now abroad upon our sea, has so shattered the planks of my skiff, that I lament that I undertook the voyage. On the other side, penury burthens me with such need, that it seems to me, that I can never acquire any praise if I do not overcome these winds and storms."[90] His poem is little read, and has never been translated. We have never met with it; but from the specimens given by Panizzi, it is evident that he possessed ease of versification, and a considerable spring of poetic imagery and invention.

BURCHIELLO

Very little is also known of this poet, whose real name was Domenico. He is supposed to have been born in Florence: he became free of the company of barbers in that city in 1432, and exercised his trade in the Contrada di Calemala. He died at Rome in 1448. His poems are a strange and capricious mixture of sayings, proverbs, and jokes, most of which are unintelligible to the Italians of the present day. From them and his name is derived the word burlesque, to signify a mock tragic style of expression.

BOJARDO

Matteo Maria Bojardo was of an ancient and noble family. His ancestors had been counts of Rubiera, a castle between Reggio and Modena, till, in 1433, Feltrino Bojardo, then the head of the family, exchanged it for Scandiano, a small castle about seven miles from Reggio, at the foot of the Apennines, and celebrated for its excellent wine. The sovereign house of Este added to the possessions of the family, and Bojardo was count of Scandiano, and lord of Aceto, Casalgrande, Gesso, La Toricella, &c.

It appears that the poet was born in the castle of Scandiano, about the year 1434, or a little before. His father was Giovanni, son of Feltrino; and his mother, Lucia, was sprung of a branch of the famous Strozzi family, original in Florence. Two of his near relatives, on the mother's side, were elegant Latin poets. The general outline merely of Bojardo's life is known there, and such delicate tints as we may catch from his lyrical poetry. He received a liberal education, and was conversant in the Greek and Latin languages. He was a vassal of the Este family, and lived at the court of Borso the first duke of Ferrara, and afterwards of his successor Ercole, to whom, indeed, he attached himself during the life of Borso, when it was very uncertain whether he would succeed to the duchy. The services he performed for this family are nearly the sole events we collect of his life. 1469.
Ætat.
35. When the emperor Frederic III. visited Italy, Bojardo was one of the noblemen sent out to meet and welcome him on his way to Ferrara, where he was entertained with extraordinary magnificence. 1471.
Ætat.
37. Borso at this time was only marquis of Ferrara (though duke of Modena and Reggio), but the pope, Paul II., soon after created him duke of that city, and Bojardo accompanied him to Rome, when he went thither to receive the investiture.

1472.
Ætat.
38.

Soon after, the poet married Taddea, daughter of the count of Novellara, of the noble house of Gonzaga. 1473.
Ætat.
39. He continued to enjoy the kindness and friendship of duke Ercole, who selected him with other nobles to escort to Ferrara his bride Eleonora, daughter of the king of Naples. 1478.
Ætat.
44. He was named by him also governor of Reggio; which place he enjoyed, except during the short interval when he was governor of Modena, till the period of his death, which occurred at Reggio on the 20th of December 1494, at the age of sixty. He was buried in the church of Scandiano. 1481.
Ætat.
47. Some traces remain to mark his character. 1486.
Ætat.
52. He was so mild a governor as to excite indignation of a learned civilian, Panciroli, who, speaking of him as a magistrate, reproves him as a man great benignity,—"better fitted to write verses than punish crimes." 1487.
Ætat.
53. A contemporary Latin poet says, "that he was not severe to the errors of love, but kindly gave to others what he desired himself. He sat, indeed, on the seat of justice, and gave forth laws with a grave brow; but his countenance was not always severe; day and night he sang the triumphs of love, and while others studied the laws, he applied himself to tender poetry."

His lyrical poetry is extremely beautiful, tender, and spirited, being characterised by that easy flow of thought and style peculiar to him. Since the days of Petrarch, it is the fashion to affix one lady's name as the object of a poet's verses. But, unfortunately, men, whether poets or not, are apt to change. There are traces of Bojardo's being attached to at least two ladies: and he married a third. The most passionate of his verses were written from Rome in 1471, and were addressed to Antonia Caprara, a beautiful girl of eighteen, who, whether married or not, shared his affection. Perhaps this lady died; but we do not appear to have any verses to his wife, whom he married in 1472.

He was a good classical scholar, and translated the "Golden Ass" of Apuleius, the history of Herodotus, Halicarnassus, and the "Golden Ass" of Lucian. He translated, altered, and enlarged the Pomarium of Ricobaldi, to which, in its new form, he gave the name of the "Imperial History." It is a sort of chronicle, full of romantic stories, founded on history and tradition, to which, perhaps, credence was lent at that time. He wrote also a drama called Timon, founded upon Lucian, which was among the first specimens of Italian dramas, but it does not appear to have great merit. He was the author also of Latin eclogues, the language of which is elegant and spirited.

His great work, however, is the "Orlando Innamorato," or "Loves of Orlando," founded on the old romances. His disposition naturally inclined him to revel in romance, so that it is said that he used, at Scandiano, to visit the old villagers, and draw from them their traditionary tales, rewarding them so well for the gratification he received, that it became a sort of proverb or exclamation of good-will at that place—"God send Bojardo to your house!" His "Imperial History," probably gave direction to his invention, which was prolific. He took Orlando as his hero; but deeming him uninteresting unless in love, he called into life the beautiful Angelica, whose coquetry, loveliness, and misfortunes, made sad havoc in Charlemagne's court. Mr. George Rose's prose translation of the "Orlando Innamorato" gives a spirited abstract of the story, which must here be more briefly detailed.

Charlemagne, in the midst of prosperity and glory, held a court at Paris, at which 22,030 guests were assembled. Before these the beautiful Angelica presents herself, with her brother Argalia, and four giants as attendants. Her brother defies the knights to combat. Argalia possessed an enchanted lance, which throws whoever it touches; and Angelica a ring, which, on certain occasions, renders the wearer invisible. Every one fell in love with Angelica, and in particular Orlando and Rinaldo. Angelica becomes frightened in the midst of the disturbances of the combats, and disappearing by means of the ring, flies from the scene of the tournament. She takes refuge in the wood of Ardennes: arriving fatigued and heated, she drinks hastily of an enchanted fountain, which causes her to fall in love with the first man she may chance to see; and then reposing on the flower-enamelled turf, falls asleep. Orlando and Rinaldo pursue her, as does also her brother Argalia; and Ferrau goes after him, being at the moment of his flight engaged in combat with him. Orlando and Rinaldo arrive at Ardennes; but the latter, on entering the forest, and refreshing himself at a fountain, drinks of water enchanted by Merlin, which causes him to hate the first woman he shall behold: he then also lies down, and goes to sleep. Angelica wakes; she rises, wanders from her place of rest, and comes to the spot where Rinaldo is reposing. Her love-blinded eyes behold him, and, transported by sudden and subduing passion, she watches his waking with fondness. He opens his eyes, and holds in abhorrence the beauty who is gazing upon him, and flies from her in disdain. Argalia meanwhile arrives in the wood, pursued by Ferrau; he has lost his enchanted lance; the enemies meet, and continue the combat. Argalia is slain: while breathing his last, he implores his enemy to cast him and his armour into the river, that no trace may remain, of his disgrace. Ferrau agrees, but solicits the loan of his helmet, he himself being without one, till he can get another: Argalia consents, and dies; while Ferrau, who is a Saracen, hearing of the misfortunes of his sovereign Marsiglio, who is attacked by Gradasso, king of Sericana, gives up the pursuit of Angelica, and sets out for Spain. Angelica returns to India, and Orlando departs in quest of her.

Charlemagne goes to the assistance of Marsiglio against Gradasso, who himself is a wonder of martial prowess, and is attended by an innumerable army, and several vast and fierce giants. Rinaldo has returned to court, and accompanies his imperial master: during the battle that ensues, he encounters Gradasso; but their single combat is interrupted by the hurry of the fight, and they agree to meet in duel the next day on foot, in a solitary place by the sea-side. Gradasso's great object is to win Orlando's sword Durindana, and Rinaldo's horse Bajardo: the latter is to be his prize, if he overcomes Rinaldo on the following day.

Angelica meanwhile, burning with love for Rinaldo, revolves many schemes for bringing him to her side. She has in her power his cousin Malagigi (Maugis), who is a great enchanter. She set him at liberty, on condition that he shall bring Rinaldo to her. Malagigi first tries to persuade his cousin; but the chilly waters have wrought too powerfully, and the very name of Angelica is odious to him. Malagigi has recourse to stratagem. When Rinaldo keeps his appointment the next morning with Gradasso, he finds the sea-shore solitary: a little boat, tenantless, is anchored near the beach. Malagigi sends a fiend, in the shape of Gradasso, who, after a mock combat, take refuge in the pinnace, followed by Rinaldo. The boat drifts out to sea, the fiend vanishes, and Rinaldo is hurried away across the ocean, till he arrives near a palace and garden, where the vessel lightly drifts on shore.

Orlando wanders about to find Angelica, and hears that she is at Albracca, a castle of Catay. But he is unable to reach her, detained by a variety of adventures and enchantments, through which he is at last deprived of all memory or knowledge, and brought to a magnificent palace, where he is left. Charlemagne meanwhile is freed from Gradasso by means of Argalia's enchanted lance, which, falling into Astolfo's possession, he works miracles, unhorses the mighty king, and a peace being agreed upon, he sets out in search of Orlando and Rinaldo. Poor Rinaldo is tempted meanwhile to soften towards Angelica, but in vain. The luxuries of an enchanted palace are wasted on him, and he is exposed to the most frightful dangers, from which Angelica delivers him; but still he scorns and leaves her, while she returns disconsolate to Albracca.

Her hand is sought by various princes and nobles; and in particular by Agricane, king of Tartary: she refuses them all; and Agricane, resolved to win her, besieges her in Albracca. She is defended by various of the Paladins, and goes herself with her ring in quest of Orlando, whom she restores to his senses. He gladly hastens to her assistance; he kills Agricane in a single contest, and in reward, as she wishes to get rid of him, Angelica sends him on a distant and perilous expedition.

The poem then enters on a new series of adventures, arising from the revenge which Agramante wishes to take on Orlando for having slain his father, king Trojano, sixteen years before. We are now introduced to several new heroes of romance, destined to play a distinguished part in the poem of Ariosto, as well as in the present one. There is Ruggeri, whose name is adopted from the Norman knight Ruggeri, who had been king of Sicily; and there is Rodomonte, the bravest, fiercest, and wildest of all warriors. Ruggeri's presence is absolutely needed for the success of Agramante's expedition; but he is imprisoned in a castle, whence he can only be delivered by Angelica's magic ring. A thievish dwarf, named Brunello, contrives to steal it from her, and Ruggeri is liberated. The expedition embarks for France, where Rodomonte, impatient of delays, had already arrived, and devastates Provence; while Marsiglio is induced, by the old traitor Gano, to invade France from the Pyrenees.

Orlando, returning from his adventure, finds Angelica besieged by Marfisa, and in great peril. He mentions, that Rinaldo is in France: the name has not lost its influence. She resolves to abandon Albracca; and, having lost her ring, is glad to be protected by Orlando, who conducts her in safety to France; and who, during the long journey, never mentions his passion, nor annoys her with any manifestation of it; though she, by her former coquetry, might well expect importunity: but his generous and fond heart renders him silent, that he may not disturb her lovely, serene countenance;