imply that the _Jerusalem_ was nothing but tinsel, and the _AEneid_ all
gold, it is certain that the tinsel is so interwoven with the gold, as to
render it more of a rule than an exception, and put a provoking distance
between Tasso's epic pretensions and those of the greatest masters of the
art. People who take for granted the conceits because of the "wildness"
of Ariosto, and the good taste because of the "regularity" of Tasso, just
assume the reverse of the fact. It is a rare thing to find a conceit in
Ariosto; and, where it does exist, it is most likely defensible on some
Shakspearian ground of subtle propriety. Open Tasso in almost any part,
particularly the love-scenes, and it is marvellous if, before long, you
do not see the conceits vexatiously interfering with the beauties.

"Oh maraviglia! Amor, the appena e nato,
Gia grande vola, e gia trionfa armato." Canto i. St. 47.

Oh, miracle! Love is scarce born, when, lo,
He flies full wing'd, and lords it with his bow!

"Se 'l miri fulminar ne l'arme avvolto,
Marte lo stimi; Amor, se scopre il volto." St. 58.

Mars you would think him, when his thund'ring race
In arms he ran; Love, when he shew'd his face.

Which is as little true to reason as to taste; for no god of war could
look like a god of love. The habit of mind would render it impossible.
But the poet found the prettiness of the Greek Anthology irresistible.

Olindo, tied to the stake amidst the flames of martyrdom, can say to his
mistress

"Altre fiamme, altri nodi amor promise." Canto ii. st. 34.

Other flames, other bonds than these, love promised.

The sentiment is natural, but the double use of the "flames" on such an
occasion, miserable.

In the third canto the fair Amazon Clorinda challenges her love to single
combat.

"E di due morti in un punto lo sfida." St. 23.

"And so at once she threats to kill him twice." _Fairfax_.

That is to say, with her valour and beauty.

Another twofold employment of flame, with an exclamation to secure our
astonishment, makes its appearance in the fourth canto

"Oh miracol d'amor! che le faville
Tragge del pianto, e'i cor' ne l'acqua accende." St. 76.

Oh, miracle of love! that draweth sparks
Of fire from tears, and kindlest hearts in water!

This puerile antithesis of _fire_ and _water, fire_ and _ice, light_
in _darkness, silence_ in _speech_, together with such pretty turns as
_wounding one's-self in wounding other