Les violences qu'on se fait pour s'empêcher d'aimer sont      souvent plus cruelles que les rigueurs de ce qu'on aime.
     —La Rochefoucauld.
The winter set in early. December began with intense frost. Mr. Falconer, one afternoon, entering the inner drawing-room, found Miss Gryll alone. She was reading, and on the entrance of her visitor, laid down her book. He hoped he had not interrupted her in an agreeable occupation. 'To observe romantic method,' we shall give what passed between them with the Christian² names of the speakers.
 
Morgana. I am only reading what I have often read before, Orlando Innamorato; and I was at the moment occupied with a passage about the enchantress from whom my name was borrowed. You are aware that enchantresses are in great favour here.
 
Algernon. Circe and Gryllus, and your name, sufficiently³ show that. And not your name only, but——I should like to see the passage, and should be still better pleased if you would read it to me.
 
Morgana. It is where Orlando, who had left Morgana sleeping by the fountain, returns to seek the enchanted⁴ key, by which alone he can liberate⁵ his friends.
 
          Il Conte, che d' intrare havea gran voglia,
          Subitamente al fonte ritornava:
          Quivi trovô Morgana, che con¹ gioglia
          Danzava intorno, e danzando cantava.
          Ne pui leggier si move al vento foglia
          Come ella sanza sosta si voltava,
          Mirando hora a la terra ed hora al sole;
          Ed al suo canto⁶ usa va tal parole:
 
          'Qualonque cerca al mondo haver thesoro,
          Over diletto, o segue onore e stato,
          Ponga la mano a questa chioma d' oro,
          Ch' io porto in fronte, e quel fara beato.
          Ma quando ha il destro a far cotal lavoro,
          Non prenda indugio, che 'l tempo⁷ passato
          Più non ritorna, e non si trova mai;
          Ed io mi volto, e lui lascio con guai.'
 
          Cosi cantava d' intorno girando
          La bella Fata a quella fresca fonte;
          Ma come gionto vide il Conte Orlando,
          Subitamente rivoltô la fronte:
          Il prato e la fontana abbandonando,
          Prese il viaggio suo verso d* un monte,
          Quai chiudea la Valletta picciolina:
          Quivi fuggendo Morgana cammina.{1}
 
             1 Bojardo: 1. ii. c. 8. Ed. Vinegia; 1544.
 
          With earnest wish to pass the enchanted gate,
          Orlando to the fount again advanced,
          And found Morgana, all with joy elate,
          Dancing around, and singing as she danced.
          As lightly moved and twirled the lovely Fate
          As to the breeze the lightest foliage⁸ glanced,
          With looks alternate to the earth and sky,
          She thus gave out her words of witchery:
 
          'Let him, who seeks unbounded wealth to hold,
          Or joy, or honour, or terrestrial state,
          Seize with his hand this lock of purest gold,
          That crowns my brow, and blest shall be his fate.
          But when time serves, behoves him to be bold,
          Nor even a moment's pause interpolate:
          The chance, once lost, he never finds again:
          I turn, and leave him to lament⁹ in vain.'
 
          Thus sang the lovely Fate in bowery shade
          Circling in joy around the crystal fount;
          But when within the solitary¹⁰ glade¹¹
          Glittered the armour¹² of the approaching Count,
          She sprang upon her feet, as one dismayed,
          And took her way towards a lofty mount
          That rose the valley's narrow length to bound:
          Thither¹⁴ Morgana sped along the ground.
 
     I have translated Fata, Fate. It is usually translated
     Fairy. But the idea differs essentially¹⁵ from ours of a
     fairy. Amongst other things there is no Fato, no Oberon to
     the Titania. It does not, indeed, correspond with our usual
     idea of Fate, but it is more easily distinguished¹⁶ as a
     class; for our old acquaintances the Fates are an
     inseparable three. The Italian Fata is independent of her
     sisters. They are enchantresses; but they differ from other
     enchantresses in being immortal¹⁷. They are beautiful, loo,
     and their beauty is immortal: always in Bojardo. He would
     not have turned Alcina into an old woman, as Ariosto did;
     which I must always consider a dreadful blemish¹⁸ on the many
     charms of the Orlando Furioso.
Algernon. I remember the passage well. The beautiful Fata, dancing and singing by the fountain, presents a delightful¹⁹ picture.
 
Morgana. Then, you know, Orlando, who had missed his opportunity of seizing the golden forelock while she was sleeping, pursues her a long while in vain through rocky deserts, La Penitenza following him with a scourge²⁰. The same idea was afterwards happily worked out by Machiavelli in his Capitolo del Occasion.
 
Algernon. You are fond of Italian literature? You read the language beautifully. I observe you have read from the original poem, and not from Bemi's rifacciamento.
 
Morgana. I prefer the original. It is more simple, and more in earnest. Bemi's playfulness is very pleasant, and his exordiums are charming; and in many instances he has improved the poetry. Still, I think he has less than the original of what are to me the great charms of poetry, truth and simplicity²². Even the greater antiquity²³ of style has its peculiar²⁴ appropriateness to the subject. And Bojardo seems to have more faith in his narrative²⁵ than Berni. I go on with him with ready credulity, where Berni's pleasantry interposes a doubt.
 
Algernon. You think that in narratives²⁶, however wild and romantic, the poet should write as if he fully²¹ believed in the truth of his own story.
 
Morgana. I do; and I think so in reference to all narratives, not to poetry only. What a dry skeleton is the history of the early ages of Rome, told by one who believes nothing that the Romans believed! Religion pervades²⁷ every step of the early Roman history; and in a great degree down at least to the Empire; but, because their religion is not our religion, we pass over the supernatural part of the matter in silence, or advert²⁸ to it in a spirit of contemptuous incredulity. We do not give it its proper place, nor present it in its proper colours, as a cause in the production of great effects. Therefore, I like to read Livy, and I do not like to read Niebuhr.
 
Algernon. May I ask if you read Latin?
 
Morgana. I do; sufficiently to derive²⁹ great pleasure from it. Perhaps, after this confession³⁰, you will not wonder that I am a spinster.
 
Algernon. So far, that I think it would tend to make you fastidious in your choice. Not that you would be less sought by any who would be worthy³¹ your attention. For I am told you have had many suitors, and have rejected them all in succession. And have you not still many, and among them one very devoted³² lover, who would bring you title as well as fortune? A very amiable³³ person, too, though not without a comic side to his character.
 
Morgana. I do not well know. He so far differs from all my preceding suitors that in every one of them I found the presence of some quality that

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