ehind and, parted in the middle, fell to her shoulders in long curls on
either side of her face; and on her forehead, just where the hair was
parted, she wore a twig of laurel, cunningly wrought in gold and
precious stones.

Alessandra's most effective charm was her wonderful hair, of that color
which had been made famous by the pictures of Titian and Giorgione, and
it really seems that in Ariosto's time this color was so ardently
desired that hair dyes were in common use, especially in Venice. It is
with a feeling of some regret that we are led to reflect that much of
that gorgeous hair which we have admired for so many years in the famous
paintings of the Venetian masters may be artificial in its brilliant
coloring, but such, alas! is probably the case. The fair Alessandra,
nevertheless, had no need to resort to the dye pots of Venice, as Mother
Nature had been generous in the extreme, and the poet was inspired by
the truth, if the painters of the time were not. How unfortunate, then,
that a serious illness was the means of her being shorn of this crowning
glory! Her attending physician decided upon one occasion that it would
be necessary to cut her hair to save her life, but later events proved
that he had been over anxious and that this desperate remedy had been
entirely uncalled for. Ariosto, as may well be believed, was indignant
at the sacrifice, and wrote three sonnets regarding it before he cooled
his anger. In one of these passionate protests occur the following
lines, which will give some idea of his highly colored style and at the
same time show us what an important place Alessandra Strozzi must have
held in his affections: "When I think, as I do a thousand times a day,
upon those golden tresses, which neither wisdom nor necessity but hasty
folly tore, alas! from that fair head, I am enraged, my cheeks burn with
anger, even tears gush forth bathing my face and bosom. I would die,
could I but be avenged upon the impious stupidity of that rash hand. O
Love, if such wrong goes unpunished, thine be the reproach!... Wilt thou
suffer the loveliest and dearest of thy possessions to be boldly
ravished and yet bear it in silence?"

Though Ariosto had come to Florence to spend but a summer day or two at
Saint John's feast, his visit lengthened into weeks, and full six months
had rolled around before he could tear himself away after that first
eventful evening. As his time was spent with his friend Vespucci,
Alessandr