“Non Tesin, Po, Varo, Arno, Adige e Tebro,
Eufrate, Tigre, Nilo, Ermo, Indo c Gange,
Tana, Istro, Alfeo, Garrona, e ’l mar the frange,
Rodano, Ibero, Ren, Senna, Albia, Era, Ebro!”

In Tasso’s Sette Giornate, to which Black thinks Milton indebted for his grand use of proper names, the following is the way in which the poet writes

  “Di Silvani
  Di Pani, e d’ Egipani, e d’ altri erranti,
  Ch’empier le solitarie inculte selve
  D’antiche maraviglie; e quell’accolto
  Esercito di Bacco in oriente
  Ond’egli vinse, e trionfo degl’Indi,
  Tornando glorioso ai Greci lidi,
  Siccom’e favoloso antico grido.”

The most diversified passage of this kind (as far as I an, aware) is Ariosto’s list of his friends at the close of the Orlando; and yet such writing as follows would seem to shew that it was an accident: 

  “Io veggio il Fracastoro, il Bevazzano,
    Trifon Gabriel, e il Tasso piu lontano;
  Veggo Niccolo Tiepoli, e con esso
    Niccolo Amanio in me affissar le ciglia;
  Auton Fulgoso, ch’a vedermi appresso
    Al lito, mostra gaudio e maraviglia. 
  Il mio Valerio e quel che la s’e messo
  Fuor de le donne,” &c.

Even Metastasio, who wrote expressly for singers, and often with exquisite modulation, especially in his songs, forgets himself when he comes to the names of his dramatis persome,—­“`Artaserse, `Artabano, `Arbace, Mandane, Semira, Megabise,”—­all in one play.

“Gran cose io temo.  Il mio germano `Arbace Parte pria de l’aurora.  Il padre armato Incontro, e non mi parla. `Accusa il cielo `Agitato `Artaserse, e m’abbandona.”

Atto i. se. 6.

I am far from intending to say that these reiterations are not sometimes allowable, nay, often beautiful and desirable.  Alliteration itself may be rendered an exquisite instrument of music.  I am only speaking of monotony or discord in the enumeration of proper names.]

[Footnote 40:  See them both in the present volume, pp. 420 and 445.]

OLINDO AND SOPHRONIA.

Argument.

The Mahomedan king of Jerusalem, at the instigation of Ismeno, a magician, deprives a Christian church of its image of the Virgin, and sets it up in a mosque, under a spell of enchantment, as a palladium against the Crusaders.  The image is stolen in the night; and the king, unable to discover who has taken it, orders a massacre of the Christian portion of his subjects, which is prevented by Sophronia’s accusing herself of the offence.  Her lover, Olindo, finding her sentenced to the stake in consequence, disputes with her the right of martyrdom.  He is condemned to suffer with her.  The Amazon Clorinda, who has come to fight on the side of Aladin, obtains their pardon in acknowledgment of her services; and Sophronia, who had not loved Olindo before, now returns his passion, and goes with him from the stake to the marriage-altar.