the stage."

He again quitted Ferrara, on an appointment "by Alphonso, but again soon
returned:--

"On his return he established himself, with his two unmarried sisters,
in the house he had built near the church of Saint Benedict, and resumed
his former occupations. Of his lighter amusements, gardening was that
in which he took most pleasure; and it is curious to know that he was
as fond of altering the plan of both his house and grounds, as he was
of remodelling the stanzas of the Orlando. His son, Virginio proposed
writing an account of his illustrious father's life; but unfortunately,
he never pursued his design beyond the commencement, and a few
memorandums are all that have come down to us. From these, however,
we learn the singular fastidiousness of Ariosto in his horticultural
amusements, and some other traits of his character, which render him not
the less an object of our veneration, by showing us the simplicity as
well as power of his mind. 'In gardening,' says Virginio, 'he pursued
the same plan as with his verses, never leaving any thing he had planted
more than three months in the same place: and, if he set a fruit-tree,
or sowed seed of any kind, he would go so often to examine it, and see
if it were growing, that he generally ended with spoiling or breaking
off the bud.'

"We learn, from the same interesting document, that he had at first no
intention of building a house for constant residence in this garden,
but that, having raised a mere cottage for temporary shelter, he grew
so fond of the spot, that he wished never to leave it. The structure,
after all, was not fully suited to his taste, and he felt as great an
inclination to improve it by continual alterations as his garden. His
constant lamentation was, that he could not change the arrangement of
his house as he could that of his verses: and a person having asked him
one day, how it happened that he who could describe castles and palaces
so magnificently, had built such a cottage, he replied, that he made
his verses without the aid of money.

"In his favourite garden he passed many hours of the day, deriving new
inspiration from its green and refreshing solitudes. The Orlando was
still in progress, and still under correction, his confidence in
himself, it seems, having been little increased either by years or
practice. In speaking, however, on this subject, he was accustomed to
say, that poetry might be compared to a laurel, which sprung up of