of the six last cantos of the Godfrey (the Jerusalem), and of those stanzas of the two first which shall seem least imperfect.  All these compositions, however, are to be submitted to the review and consideration of Signor Scipio Gonzaga, of Signor Domenico Veniero, and of Signor Battista Guarini, who, I persuade myself, will not refuse this trouble, when they consider the zealous friendship I have entertained for themselves.

“Let them be informed, too, that it was my intention that they should cut and hew without mercy whatever should appear to them defective or superfluous.  With regard to additions or changes, I should wish them to proceed more cautiously, since, after all, the poem would remain imperfect.  As to my other compositions, should there be any which, to the aforesaid Signor Rondinelli and the other gentlemen, might seem not unworthy of publication, let them be disposed of according to their pleasure.

“In respect to my property, I wish that such part of it as I have pledged to Abram —­ for twenty-five lire, and seven pieces of arras, which are likewise in pledge to Signor Ascanio for thirteen scudi, together with whatever I have in this house, should be sold, and that the overplus of the proceeds should go to defray the expense of the following epitaph to be inscribed on a monument to my father, whose body is in St. Polo.  And should any impediment take place in these matters, I entreat Signor Ercole to have recourse to the favour of the most excellent Madame Leonora, whose liberality I confide in, for my sake.

“I, Torquato Tasso, have written this, Ferrara, 1570.”

I shall have occasion to recur to this document by and by.  I will merely observe, for the present, that the marks in it, both of imprudence in money-matters and confidence in the goodwill of a princess, are very striking.  “Abram” and “Signor Ascanio” were both Jews.  The pieces of arras belonged to his father; and probably this was an additional reason why the affectionate son wished the proceeds to defray the expense of the epitaph.  The epitaph recorded his father’s poetry, state-services, and vicissitudes of fortune.

Tasso was introduced to the French king as the poet of a French hero and of a Catholic victory; and his reception was so favourable (particularly as the wretched Charles, the victim of his mother’s bigotry, had himself no mean poetic feeling), that, with a rash mixture of simplicity and self-reliance (respect makes me unwilling to call it self-importance), the poet expressed an impolitic amount of astonishment at the favour shewn at court to the Hugonots—­little suspecting the horrible design it covered.  He shortly afterwards broke with his master the cardinal; and it is supposed that this unseasonable escape of zeal was the cause.  He himself appears to have thought so.[4] Perhaps the cardinal only wanted to get the imprudent poet back to Italy; for, on Tasso’s