of the old poet.  That single one, however, was in the exquisitest taste, full of as deep a feeling as any thing in its company (I have noticed it in the translated passage).  And then, in the celebrated introductions to his cantos, and the additions to Boiardo’s passages of description and character (those about Rodamonte, for example, so admired by Foscolo), if Berni occasionally spews a comparative want of faith which you regret, he does it with a regret on his own part, visible through all his jesting.  Lastly, the singular and indignant strength of his execution often makes up for the trustingness that he was sorry to miss.  If I were asked, in short, which of the two poems I should prefer keeping, were I compelled to choose, I should first complain of being forced upon so hard an alternative, and then, with many a look after Berni, retain Boiardo.  The invention is his; the first earnest impulse; the unmisgivings joy; the primitive morning breath, when the town-smoke has not polluted the fields, and the birds are singing their “wood-notes wild.”  Besides, after all, one cannot be sure that Berni could have invented as Boiardo did.  If he could, he would probably have written some fine serious poem of his own.  And Panizzi has observed, with striking and conclusive truth, that “without Berni the Orlando Innamorato will be read and enjoyed; without Boiardo not even the name of the poem remains."[7]

Nevertheless this conclusion need not deprive us of either work.  Berni raised a fine polished edifice, copied and enlarged after that of Boiardo;—­on the other hand, the old house, thank Heaven, remains; and our best way of settling the question between the two is, to be glad that we have got both.  Let the reader who is rich in such possessions look upon Berni’s as one of his town mansions, erected in the park-like neighbourhood of some metropolis; and Boiardo’s as the ancient country original of it, embosomed in the woods afar off, and beautiful as the Enchanted Castle of Claude—­

  “Lone sitting by the shores of old romance.”

* * * * *

[Footnote 1:  The materials for the biography in this notice have been gathered from Tiraboschi and others, but more immediately from the copious critical memoir from the pen of Mr. Panizzi, in that gentleman’s admirable edition of the combined poems of Boiardo and Ariosto, in nine volumes octavo, published by Mr. Pickering.  I have been under obligations to this work in the notice of Pulci, and shall again be so in that of Boiardo’s successor; but I must not a third time run the risk of omitting to give it my thanks (such as they are), and of earnestly recommending every lover of Italian poetry, who can afford it, to possess himself of this learned, entertaining, and only satisfactory edition of either of the Orlandos.  The author writes an English almost as correct as it is elegant; and he is as painstaking as he is lively.]