Orlando Furioso, Volume 3

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G. Nicol, 1785 - Italian poetry
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Page 346 - ... a rib Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears, More to the part sinister, from me drawn ; Well if thrown out, as supernumerary To my just number found. O ! why did God, Creator wise, that peopled highest heaven With spirits masculine, create at last This novelty on earth, this fair defect Of nature, and not fill the world at once With men, as angels, without feminine ; Or find some other way to generate Mankind?
Page 407 - Achilles was as well provided with them as ^Eneas, though he was invulnerable without them. And Ariosto, the two Tassos, Bernardo, and Torquato, even our own Spenser, in a word, all modern poets, have copied Homer as well as Virgil : he is neither the first nor last, but in the midst of them ; and therefore is safe, if they are so.
Page 403 - For ornament, not use, these arms are worn; This helm, and heavy buckler, I can spare; As only decorations of the war: So Mars is arm'd for glory, not for need. 'Tis...
Page 164 - I am not he, the man my looks proclaim, The man that lately bore Orlando's name ; He, by his fair one's cruel falfehood, dies ; And now, interr'd, her haplefs victim lies.
Page 402 - Thrice happy thou ! to prefs the martial plain 'Midft heaps of heroes in thy quarrel flain : In clouds of fmoke rais'd by the noble fray, Great and terrific ev'n in death you lay, And deluges of blood flow'd round you every way Nor ceas'd the ftrife, till Jove himfelf oppos'd, And all in tempefts the dire evening clos'd. Then to the fleet we bore thy honour'd load, 60 And decent on the funeral bed beftow'd.
Page 260 - Which doft, her golden locks, that were upbound Still in a knot, unto her heels down traced," And like a silken veil in compass round About her back and all her body wound : Like as the shining sky in summer's night, What time the days with scorching heat abound, Is crested all with lines of fiery light, That it prodigious seems in common people's sight.
Page 409 - And blaming now his country's ancient rite, Huge bowls and goblets empties with delight.
Page 199 - But summon'd now at Fate's unpitying call, Unknown what future lot to thee may fall — By those soft lips, by those fond eyes I swear, By those dear locks that could my heart ensnare ! Despairing to the shades of night I go, Where thoughts of thee, left to a world of woe, Shall rend this faithful breast with deeper pains Than all that hell's avenging realm contains.
Page 207 - Me, as a boy or woman, wouldst thou fright, New to the field, and trembling at the fight? Thou meet'st a chief deserving of thy arms, To combat born, and bred amidst alarms : I know to shift my ground, remount the car, Turn, charge, and answer every...
Page 161 - To know the truth he dreaded moft to hear. The gentle fwain, who mark'd his fecret grief, With cheerful fpeech to give his pains relief, Told all th...

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