Professional Documents
Culture Documents
and Ariosto
Studies in Italian Culture
Literature in History
Aldo Scaglione
General Editor
Advisory Board
Peter Bondanella
Indiana University
Giuseppe Mazzotta
Yale University
Paolo Cherchi
University of Chicago
Vol. 25
PETER LANG
New York • Washington, D.C./Baltimore • Boston • Bern
Frankfurt am Main • Berlin • Brussels • Vienna • Oxford
Julia M. Kisacky
Magic in Boiardo
and Ariosto
PETER LANG
New York • Washington, D.C./Baltimore • Boston • Bern
Frankfurt am Main • Berlin • Brussels • Vienna • Oxford
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Kisacky, Julia M.
Magic in Boiardo and Ariosto / Julia M. Kisacky.
p. cm. — (Studies in Italian culture—Literature in history; vol. 25)
Includes bibliographical references and index.
1. Boiardo, Matteo Maria, 1440– or 41–1494. Orlando innamorato.
2. Ariosto, Lodovico, 1474–1533. Orlando furioso. 3. Magic in literature.
4. Roland (Legendary character)—Romances—History and criticism.
5. Romances, Italian—History and criticism. I. Title. II. Series.
PQ4614.K57 851’.209—dc21 98-30521
ISBN 0-8204-4252-6
ISSN 1043-5794
The paper in this book meets the guidelines for permanence and durability
of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity
of the Council of Library Resources.
Introduction 1
Conclusion 137
Notes 141
Bibliography 155
Index 183
Acknowledgements
The concept of magic has existed since prehistoric times, and throughout
recorded history. People’s ideas about magic have varied from time to
time and from place to place, from Egyptian funeral ceremonies, to Greek
enchantresses, to Roman tales of wicked witches, to the summoning of
demons in medieval chivalric literature, and more. This book is my at-
tempt at a global study of the element of magic in two Italian Renaissance
epic poems, Matteo Maria Boiardo’s Orlando innamorato, and Ludovico
Ariosto’s Orlando furioso. In both of these works, magic is a crucial and
pervasive element.
The long and illustrious history of the topos of magic in literature offers
many possible influences on Boiardo’s and Ariosto’s treatment of it. Clas-
sical epics from Homer on had made use of magic, and throughout the
medieval romance tradition magic became increasingly important.1 As
learned court poets, Boiardo and Ariosto were well-acquainted with Latin
poetry, and had some familiarity with Greek literature. As expected of
good Humanists, both poets borrowed from the Classical tradition, with,
however, each poet adapting his sources to his own needs in his indi-
vidual manner.
Many critics have held a negative view of Boiardo’s relation to his
sources. According to Reichenbach, Boiardo was always “infedelissimo”
to his sources because he always added his own touch.2 For Bruscagli,
Boiardo’s literary references shed some light on his text, but his radical
destructuring of the references gives the impression that his world lacks a
literary memory; centaurs may be present, but without their Classical
history.3 Boiardo’s siren may recall the Classical tradition, but in essence
she is very different from Homer’s singers.4 Looney suggests that Boiardo’s
intended audience was a decisive factor in this de-emphasis of his allu-
sions: “Boiardo . . . was uncomfortable . . . with making his classicism too
apparent in the Innamorato, his one poem most designed for public
2 Introduction
consumption.”5 In contrast, Zampese sees Boiardo as “un letterato colto
e sensibile, capace di valersi in modo originale delle proprie fonti,” and
emphasizes his “consapevole organizzazione di materiali selezionati con
fini significativi.”6
Ariosto’s Classical references are apt to be more true to the originals, yet
still they will be changed in some way to suit his purpose. For example,
Medoro is the counterpart of the Virgilian Euryalus, but it is Dardinello
who dies Euryalus’ death.8
Both the Innamorato and the Furioso are set in the world of medieval
chivalric romance, and Pio Rajna has shown the debt, as far as plot goes,
of the Furioso to preceding exemplars of this genre.9 The topoi of love
and adventure had gradually through the years crept into the lives of
Charlemagne’s knights, until Boiardo achieved an inseparable fusion of
the Carolingian and Arthurian cycles in his poetic world.10 Although his
characters have the names and outward appearances of Charlemagne’s
knights, their main interests are love and adventure, themes characteristic
of the Arthurian cycle. The two worlds have truly been merged, so that
Merlin’s artifacts can be found scattered here and there for wandering
knights to find. An obvious example is the fountain of disamore, origi-
nally intended as a magical remedy for Tristan, which ends up complicat-
ing the life of Ranaldo.
Other influences on the poets’ treatment of magic may have included
the contemporary practice of “low” magic, e.g. fortune-telling and con-
juring with devils, and the “high” magic of Renaissance Hermeticism,
which sought to reveal the cosmos’ veiled meanings. As to the former, it
is unclear whether or not Boiardo believed in magic in real life. At the
time, astrology was highly fashionable, and Boiardo was respectful of the
belief, even equating the presence of astrologers with civilization (OI
2.22.32). His most important astrologer character, the king of Garamanta,
is as knowledgeable as he portrays himself, but Boiardo also refers to a
deceitful astrologer in the intaglio of Alexander the Great in the first canto
of Book 2. Ariosto, on the other hand, makes mocking references to the
credulity of contemporaries who trust in “le magiche sciocchezze.” In OF
Introduction 3
7.73 and 33.5 he explicitly denies the existence of magic in contempo-
rary times. In the Negromante, Ariosto portrays the title character as a
self-seeking fake whose chance of success depends wholly on his ability
to deceive his gullible victims about his supposedly immense magical pow-
ers. Iachelino ultimately fails because of the machinations of the clever
servant Temolo who reveals his plots.
Neither Boiardo nor Ariosto was strongly influenced by the teachings
of Hermeticism. Their mages are certainly not the higher beings that Pico
della Mirandola described in De hominis dignitate; rather, they are as
fallible as the knights and ladies who lack magical abilities. Neither are the
poets bound by Pico’s distinction between good magic, concerned with
divine matters, and evil magic involving demons.11 In both poems the
Christian mages employ demons, including Melissa who makes them serve
God’s cause.
The Ferrarese poets’ situations at the Este court also influenced their
works. The medieval romance genre was especially valued at the Este
court. The Po valley and Veneto areas had been a center of interest in the
romances since the twelfth century, and the fashion had developed of
naming children after characters from the Arthurian and Carolingian ro-
mances,12 a fashion which lasted even up to the days of Meliaduse, the
brother of Leonello and Borso. Duke Borso claimed to derive greater
pleasure from a French romance new to his library than from the acquisi-
tion of a new city.13 With so much audience demand it is not surprising
that after a brief period of Florentine predominance the center of chivalric
poetry shifted to Ferrara.
Due to the unusually strong control exercised by the Este family, Ferrara
did not develop into a comune as most northern Italian cities did. It re-
mained a signoria, and consequently the attitude about chivalry was dif-
ferent from that found elsewhere. The Este rulers consciously used tradi-
tional chivalric teachings as propaganda to promote loyalty among their
vassals.14
Even by Boiardo’s era the system of chivalry could not be seen as
closely related to reality. Yet in Ferrara chivalric ideals could still be re-
vered, unlike the more mocking attitude of the bourgeois Florentines typi-
fied by Pulci. Boiardo truly venerated the knightly ideals, as shown for
example in his sonnet 44 “Ocio amoroso e cura giovenile.” Reichenbach
praises his “capacità di esprimere il mondo cavalleresco ch’era l’anima
della sua anima.”15 This sincere participation on the poet’s part did not,
however, protect his characters from being placed in comical situations
due to their quests for love and adventure. Nor did Boiardo’s recognition
4 Introduction
of true chivalric values at the court in Ferrara16 preclude glimpses of less
lovely aspects of court life gleaned from his own experience.17
Ariosto’s attitude is more complex and contradictory; he values some
of the chivalric ideals, such as fede, but portrays them in a more modern
and more problematized manner, in shades of gray rather than black and
white. With the increasing removal of chivalry from its origins it could
only seem more and more antiquated and detached from reality, contrib-
uting to Ariosto’s ironic attitude toward it. This irony, which to Francesco
De Sanctis indicated a corrosive intent,18 seems less harsh to other critics.19
The Este lords’ personal foibles as patrons directly affected their poets,
who were functionaries of the court as well as artists. The Este promoted
an image of themselves as protectors of the arts, but they expected to
receive practical services from their poets and not just “opera
d’inchiostro.”20 Boiardo’s duties as governor of Modena and Reggio prob-
ably contributed to the drastically reduced speed of composition of Book
3 of the Innamorato.21 Ariosto’s sufferings due to the demands and in-
gratitude of Cardinal Ippolito are well known from his first Satire. Later,
with Alfonso as his patron, his situation was somewhat improved.
Leaving aside the complicated question of genre, both the Innamorato
and the Furioso have the romance tendency to be open-ended, to go on
indefinitely.22 Boiardo pays as much attention to “minor” episodes as he
does to main lines of the plot. Each episode becomes the focus until it is
concluded, and then the characters seek another adventure (and there are
always other adventures, whether magical, martial, or romantic). Besides
reflecting the knightly spirit of adventure and prolonging the diletto of
the audience, these diversions obviously defer the conclusion of the poem.
The Innamorato gives the impression that Boiardo did not know how to
bring his story to a close, and that its ending was more imposed on him
than by him.23 Antonio Franceschetti argues that the poem’s “disorganicità
formale” is intentional, pointing to other masterpieces of the Quattrocento,
such as the Stanze and the Morgante, which share the Innamorato’s lack
of formal organization, yet nevertheless contain their essential message;
later the prevalence of the rule of classical harmony will make this
impossible.24
Ariosto, on the other hand, planned out the Furioso with the determi-
nation of bringing the poem to a definite conclusion, and firmly squelched
the temptation to go on.25 With exceptional control of his huge mass of
material he managed the feat, overcoming the tendency toward deferral
of the ending and bringing together the wildly divergent paths of the
apparently unruly characters. In the Furioso this struggle against an end-
ing is reflected notably by the mage Atlante’s struggle against fate.26
Introduction 5
On the structural level, we shall see that the element of magic serves a
number of different purposes in the two poems. An important use of
magic is to advance or, far more often, delay the advancement of the plot;
here enter Atlante and the enchantresses in their gardens. At times magic
is used as a plot device to set up humorous situations, as when Boiardo
gives the magic lance to Astolfo. Magic is sometimes used as an equiva-
lent to psychological motivation, notably in Ariosto’s Discordia episode.
In the Furioso magic helps to reveal man’s preference for illusion over
reality, particularly in the episodes of Atlante’s castles. Magic serves as a
test of human virtù; Boiardo, in the more optimistic early Renaissance,
shows human ability victorious over magical adversity far more often than
does Ariosto, who is likelier to predicate magic as necessary to counter
magic. Both authors from time to time make magic the occasion for
allegory.
In both poems magic is associated with the chaotic aspect of life, with
the irrational, as contrasted more or less strongly with order and reason.
However, as we shall see, although both authors praise and privilege
reason, neither utterly condemns the irrational.
Chapter One
Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts
i. Armaments
In the chivalric poems of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, magical
artifacts abound, and it is not surprising that some of the more pervasive
magical artifacts are weapons and armor. Considering the necessity of
such accoutrements to the knightly heroes, it is easy to understand why it
became standard for the most important knights, and even some lesser
ones, to have marvelous weapons and armor.
Marvelous armaments fall into two categories, identified and described
by Daniela Delcorno Branca.1 First are magic weapons proper, which
actually possess supernatural powers, such as Astolfo’s golden lance and,
in the Furioso, Ruggiero’s magic shield. Their magical properties provide
8 Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts
clearcut and usually overwhelming advantages to their wielders, and their
use is traditionally considered unchivalrous. The more numerous enchanted
(“fatato”) weapons have no special powers. Noting the sometime equiva-
lence of the adjective “fino,” often applied to these weapons, with “fatato,”
Delcorno Branca concludes that this is just a type of superlative which
emphasizes the extraordinary quality of the weapon, rather than denot-
ing any magic properties.2 Thus enchanted armaments differ from their
non-magical equivalents only in their greater prestige. Enchanted arma-
ments include the various “magic” swords and helmets to which knights
have recourse in battle after battle. Enchanted swords are among the
most prized and famous objects in the epic and romance traditions. The
most renowned and favorite legendary knights have enchanted swords:
Orlando, Rinaldo, Oliviero, Ugiero, Charlemagne himself, and of course
King Arthur.
A knight’s weapons are more than just tools of the trade. In Zatti’s
words, “Nella letteratura cavalleresca l’identità del cavaliere si concepisce
come somma di attributi. . . . gli oggetti di cui è detentore sono
prolungamenti del suo io.”3 Thus while enchanted weapons have the added
cachet of magic, a weapon’s trophy value is of primary importance to the
knightly characters.4 The desirability of enchanted weapons to knights
comes not from their magic per se, but from their prestige, i.e. primarily
from the fame of their former and present wielders. Again in Zatti’s words,
“La natura dell’oggetto appare . . . del tutto secondaria rispetto alla
mediazione maturata attraverso il confronto con un antagonista . . . a
sanzionare l’eccellenza dell’obbiettivo è sufficiente il prestigio del suo
detentore . . .”5
Some examples: Ranaldo’s helmet is frequently called the “elmo di
Mambrino,” and it is often reiterated that Orlando won his helmet and
Durindana from Almonte in Aspromonte. Neither Ferraù nor Orlando
truly has need of a helmet, for they are themselves enchanted, “fatati,”
invulnerable except in one place, “e l’uno e l’altro andò, più per ornato /
che per bisogno, alle sue imprese armato” (OF 12.50; “they each went
about their business armed more for show than from necessity”6).7 Thus
Ferraù wants Orlando’s helmet only to be able to say that he took it from
Orlando, the greatest French paladin, while Orlando values it mainly as a
reminder of his own victory over Almonte.
A telling example of the secondary value of the weapon’s enchantment
is the single time in either poem that Durindana is explicitly called magi-
cal.8 To the fay who guards Hector’s armor, Durindana’s enchantment is
only an appositive, wholly beside the point:
Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts 9
[the fay] disse:— Cavallier, questa giornata
Tal tesoro hai, che il simil non si vede.
Or se conviene agiongervi la spata,
E ciò mi giurarai su la tua fede:
Che Durindana, lo incantato brando,
Torai per forza de arme al conte Orlando.
The emphasis is all on the sword’s illustrious history and on the necessity
of wresting it in glorious combat from its present bearer, Orlando.
The author can personalize these armaments, as Boiardo does for his
Rodamonte, whose dragonskin armor reflects the character’s ferocity. He
has inherited this armor from his ancestor Nimrod, builder of the biblical
Tower of Babel in hubristic defiance of God’s will and one of the giants
who warred against Jove. Nor does Rodamonte care about God’s (or
Macone’s) will; he worships only his own strength:
Se egli è alcun dio nel cel, ch’io nol so certo,
Là stassi ad alto, e di qua giù non cura:
Omo non è che l’abbia visto esperto,
Ma la vil gente crede per paura.
10 Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts
Io de mia fede vi ragiono aperto
Che solo il mio bon brando e l’armatura
E la maza ch’io porto, e ’l destrier mio
E l’animo ch’io ho, sono il mio dio.
(OI 2.3.22)
One result of the implicit distinction between overtly magic weapons and
merely enchanted ones is the possible resolution of the conflict between
the poet’s desire to present his favored characters with prestigious pos-
sessions, and his concern over giving them obviously unfair advantages.
In the earlier chivalric tradition magical weaponry ensured the wielder’s
victory regardless of his merit, and therefore was a sign of félonie.12 The
use of enchanted weapons, however, never posed moral difficulties for
knights, because they are not truly different in kind from normal non-
magical weapons. The essential honor of Orlando, Arthur, etc. is unques-
tioned, regardless of their enchanted swords. In the Innamorato and the
Furioso, no matter how impressive enchanted armaments may be, they
do not give automatic victory, nor do they make their bearers completely
safe. Argalia in the Innamorato, and Mandricardo and Gradasso in the
Furioso are all killed despite their enchanted armor.
Departing from the tradition of condemnation, Boiardo and Ariosto
provide for the possibility of knights’ using magic armaments and yet
retaining their good reputations. Magic is an abundant source of meraviglia
and diletto in the two poems, and its use is not limited to villains. Never-
12 Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts
theless, the poets’ treatment of the subject shows that something remains
not perfectly acceptable about the use of magic.
Boiardo does not bring this kind of moral question to the foreground,
accenting instead the marvelous qualities and inhabitants of his fabulous
world. Direct references to moral quandaries regarding knights’ use of
magic are exceedingly rare in the Innamorato, totalling only four. Argalia
is embarrassed not because he wears enchanted armor, but because he is
mortally wounded despite its protection (OI 1.3.63 and 1.28.4). Later,
when Orlando wishes to insult Ranaldo, one of his accusations is that
Ranaldo has secretly benefited from Malagise’s magic aid (OI 1.27.21,
and again in 1.28.4); it may be untrue, but it is an area where Ranaldo’s
honor can be impugned. Despite Boiardo’s reticence in discussing the
morality of magic, upon examination one finds that in the Innamorato
anything with truly magical powers, no matter how delightful and marvel-
ous, leads to chaotic effects.13
Ariosto’s treatment of the morality of magic varies from case to case.
He portrays sorcerers good, evil, and indifferent. There is no hint of
disapproval of Astolfo or Bradamante for using the golden lance or other
magic devices. Yet in two important episodes (those of the shield and the
harquebus, of which I shall speak at length in Chapter Three) he openly
condemns magic weapons, precisely for the traditional reason: they bring
unfair advantages to a knight.
Both poets’ treatment of the sword Balisarda reveals qualms about the
morality of knights’ use of magic. Balisarda, when introduced in the
Innamorato, is clearly magical rather than enchanted. Whereas enchanted
swords cannot pierce enchanted armor, Falerina creates Balisarda with
the special ability to cut through magical substances, including Orlando’s
skin:
It may be morally troublesome for Rugiero to use magic, but the English
knight Astolfo is a different matter. His character in the Innamorato is
unforgettably linked to the magic golden lance. One of the major magic
Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts 15
artifacts of both the Orlando innamorato and the Orlando furioso, the
magic lance finds its literary source in the Tavola ritonda.14 There,
Tristano’s perfect knighthood is exalted by his final refusal and destruc-
tion of the magic weapons.15 In contrast, for Boiardo the use of the magic
lance does not adversely affect a knight’s honor. First Argalia and then
Astolfo employ the lance’s magic with no hint of condemnation from the
narrator.
In the Innamorato, the lance was originally a weapon aimed at
Charlemagne’s Christians by Galafrone. First of all, Galafrone’s and
Argalia’s willingness to use magic unfairly nevertheless does not bring
them success for long. The plan of the king of Cathay, although starting
smoothly with Astolfo’s defeat, has barely been set in motion when it goes
awry.
As early as the end of the first Canto Argalia is so overcome by rage at
Feraguto that he forgets the lance when he leaves the scene of battle.
From one point of view this suggests that Argalia is a valorous knight
with enough confidence in his own abilities that he does not psychologi-
cally depend on his magical accoutrements. His forgetfulness is even more
understandable if Argalia did not know of the lance’s special power.
Galafrone may not have informed his son of its particulars, since nowhere
is there an indication that Argalia is aware of it. When Argalia’s magical
accoutrements are introduced in 1.1.38– 39 the special abilities of Rabicano
and the ring are specified, but the lance is only described by its rich beauty.
It is not even explicitly called magical, as are Argalia’s sword and armor.
Much later Ariosto, an attentive reader of the Innamorato, states that no
one knew it was magical “eccetto quel re solo / che far la fece e la donò
al figliuolo” (OF 45.65; “Apart from King Galafron, who had had the
lance made for his son, nobody knew of its powers or that it was made by
sorcery”).16 Perhaps this is why Argalia is so uncaring as to leave it be-
hind. However, it is a bad sign for Argalia as this sort of loss of self-control
usually leads to defeat in both the Innamorato and the Furioso.
Thus Boiardo prepares the scene for one of his strokes of genius, the
lance’s accidental transferral to Astolfo. The knight’s ignorance of the
lance’s magical property of unhorsing whomever it strikes is a continuing
source of humor in the Innamorato, since everyone familiar with Astolfo
is astonished when he wins. The English knight’s bizarre personality fur-
ther ensures comical scenes.
The strength of Boiardo’s Astolfo lies in his cortesia rather than his
warrior’s skills. In this way, Boiardo overturns the natural order by giving
the magic lance to the weakest of knights. Astolfo himself does not ex-
16 Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts
pect to defeat Grandonio in Charlemagne’s tourney, and all the onlookers
share his opinion:
Né già se crede quel franco barone
Aver vittoria contra del pagano,
Ma sol con pura e bona intenzïone
Di far il suo dover per Carlo Mano.
Stava molto atto sopra dello arcione
E somigliava a cavallier soprano;
Ma color tutti che l’han cognosciuto,
Diceano:— Oh Dio! deh mandaci altro aiuto!—
(OI 1.2.66)
At first he can hardly believe his victory, but vanity quickly causes him to
assume that it stemmed from his own skill. This first of his victories will
be followed by many more, to the astonishment of all who knew him
before.
After his hot-headed participation in a brawl, he is imprisoned by
Charlemagne and forgotten by all until 1.7.37 when during Gradasso’s
siege of Paris the prisons are opened. It is in this episode that Astolfo
reaches the apex of his glory in the Innamorato. The desperate and
pragmatic captive Charlemagne has already agreed to surrender Baiardo
and Durindana to Gradasso when Astolfo disrupts this plan. Having taken
the leadership of Paris in the absence of the other knights, he imprisons
Carlo’s messenger and challenges Gradasso to duel with him for Baiardo.
The arrival of this news in Gradasso’s camp shows further in what variety
of esteem the duke of England is held; some think of him as “un buffone”
or “un paccio” while Gradasso relates that
Altri m’ha detto poi che sei segnore
Leggiadro, largo, nobile e cortese,
E che sei de ardir pieno e di valore.
(OI 1.7.53)
The magic ring is of course one of the most important magical artifacts of
both poems. It has two magical functions: that of rendering the bearer
Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts 19
invisible, and that of nullifying spells. This spell-breaking, anti-magical
power is crucial at times to advance the plot, by demolishing magical
prisons that trap knights, while the power of invisibility turns out to be
mainly a protection for women.18
Despite its importance, and characteristic of the majority of incidents
of magic, the ring is presented without what Guido Almansi would call a
“grido di meraviglia.”19 Most of the time in the Innamorato and the Furioso
magical artifacts or events are presented in a matter-of-fact tone:
Il meraviglioso entra spesso in scena nel Furioso nel suo travestimento più curioso
e insolito, cioè come cosa normale, ineccepibile e logica . . . In particolare la
prima comparsa di un personaggio o di un avvenimento mirabilmente incredibile
o soprannaturale viene presentato al lettore in un tono che non è ironico . . . né
stuporosamente meravigliato: bensì in un tono pacato e discorsivo, equanimamente
teso a raccontare un fatto; un tono privo di accentuazione . . . .
. . . Il contenuto è soprannaturale . . . ma la voce non è soprannaturale . . . 20
The two stanzas which present the gifts of Galafrone to Argalia are char-
acteristic of this tactic:
All of these items are stated to be unusual, but the matter-of-fact tone
belies their truly marvelous qualities. The ring stands out only for the
crescendo of octave 39 v. 4, where the juxtaposed superlatives are em-
phasized by the pause between them, and the choppy rhythm contributes
to the sense of rising excitement. Yet this crescendo is immediately cur-
tailed by the parenthetical information of v. 5, where the tone of everyday
narration returns. In the end, one has the impression that the ring is just
one more facet of the beauties of Boiardo’s poetic world, and does not
stand out from the rest.
On the level of the plot, however, the ring will stand out. It will prove
crucial to advancing the plot in both poems, with its spell-breaking power
demolishing magical prisons that trap many knights. In the Innamorato
this is the ring’s function in the two extended adventures in which it is
used: namely the destruction of Dragontina’s garden, where Orlando and
other important knights are imprisoned in Book 1 between Cantos 6 and
14, and the extraction of Rugiero from Atalante’s palace at the monte di
Carena.
Angelica takes the ring to Dragontina’s garden in the hope that the
knights she frees will help her defeat the siege of Albraca, which itself is
an important center of narration. Dragontina’s downfall begins slowly.
She is unaware of the approaching threat because Angelica uses the ring’s
power of invisibility when she enters the garden. First the princess frees
Orlando from the fay’s spell of forgetfulness by putting the ring on his
finger; this takes two stanzas (OI 1.14.43– 44). Then he frees another
prisoner over a stanza and a half. They proceed to liberate the rest until in
an accelerating chain reaction the palace, the bridge, the river, and
Dragontina herself all disappear in the course of two verses:
Rational order is not the supreme value for Boiardo; there is room in
his world for joyous passion, though it is best tempered with reason.30
When the Innamorato is interrupted, Ranaldo and Angelica have resumed
their original attitudes toward one another. Ranaldo has rejoined the
majority of knights in a love which will tend to lead him away from his
duty to king and country, and toward glorious adventures and his indi-
26 Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts
vidual fulfillment. Merlin’s fountain can even be seen in a negative light
because it had earlier prevented this journey.31 But at the end Ranaldo is
reinserted into the natural (dis)order.
Rational order is more desirable in the world of the Furioso. Rinaldo’s
final visit to Merlin’s fountain is not left to chance; rather he is guided to it
by the psychological-allegorical figure of Disdain, come explicitly to re-
lease Rinaldo from “il giogo indegno” of an “amor sì folle.” Rinaldo is left
free to return to his chivalric duties, as societal values reassert themselves.
The early effects of the magic waters lead to Ranaldo’s voyages in the
magic boat in Book 1 of the Innamorato. The motif of the pilotless boat
evokes romance wanderings in search of adventure.32 In the Arthurian
tradition the boats were sent either by God to take the knight on his
religious quest, or by a sorceress for her own, usually evil, purpose. In
Renaissance romance these boats embody “the operations of Fortune as
Aventure, with chance at the rudder, or in charge of the weather.”33
Boiardo’s boat certainly takes Ranaldo willy-nilly toward adventure, but
its course is guided by a human intelligence. In a passage modeled after
the Aeneid,34 Malagise sends the boat to kidnap Ranaldo after the paladin
refused to help regain his cousin’s magic book by sleeping with Angelica.
The illusions of the vengeful Malagise’s demons lure Ranaldo onto the
boat in such a way as not only to take him from his warrior’s duty, but
also to leave his knightly peers and enemies believing him a coward. With
amazing speed the pilotless boat takes Ranaldo to the lovely Palazzo Zoioso,
to a fate which any other Boiardan knight (and most Ariostan knights)
would gladly embrace, but which Ranaldo flees in horror. His comical
refusal of Angelica’s favors is, of course, due solely to the effect of Merlin’s
fountain. The infuriated Malagise then directs the boat to convey Ranaldo
to the deadly danger of Crudel Rocca. The many delightful adventures he
will face on the way back to Europe are no less important to Boiardo than
the fate of the paladins in France.35
vi. Books
Books in the poems are not the poets’ only vehicles, or even their main
vehicles, for references to literature and art.36 The vast majority of books
that appear in the two poems have to do with magic.37 These marvelous
books are of two types: the books used by sorcerers (e.g. Malagise, Atlante)
in the casting of spells, and the how-to books that guide knights (e.g.
Orlando, Astolfo) in overcoming magical dangers. The former type theo-
retically record spells to be used whenever the sorcerer judges them to be
Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts 27
appropriate; in practice these spells tend to be reduced to one, that of
controlling demons. The how-to books contain detailed information on
specific dangers that the knight may encounter, and practical instructions
for achieving victory. The chaotic effects generally associated with magic
adhere strongly to the spell books; they promote the dispersal or entrap-
ment of characters. The how-to books, on the other hand, have an anti-
magical nature and consequently promote the orderly advancement of
the plot.
In the two poems the spell books of the sorcerers are so strongly
associated with demons that Negri is prompted to remark: “dai libri nel
Furioso non usciranno altro che diavolerie” (22). The diabolic connection
is certainly not original with Boiardo, but belongs to medieval tradition.38
Demons from the spell books provide information, transportation, and
illusions.
Interestingly, Christian sorcerers employ demons at least as often as
pagans. Malagise employs demons on at least four occasions (OI 1.1.36–
43; 1.5.23– 25 and 32– 47; 2.22.45– 59), whereas Angelica commands
demons only with the help of Malagise’s spell book.39 Atalante is con-
nected to demons only once in the Innamorato (2.3.27). Although deal-
ing with devils would logically raise suspicions of the sorcerers’ characters
and motives, their fraternization with the spiritual enemy does not seem
to affect their religious convictions. While Malagise may be of little help to
the Christian camp, he is no renegade; and Merlin’s and Melissa’s use of
demons in the Furioso does not preclude their effective support of God’s
plan. Rather, both Boiardo and Ariosto portray demons as less menacing
than comic.
Spell books are also associated with the failure in some manner of the
sorcerer who uses them. Both poets employ a pattern of magnification
(the sorcerer has amazing powers with his book) then deflation (some
misfortune befalls him without his book), which implies that the sorcerer
is overly reliant on the spell book’s powers.
Although there are many practitioners of magic in the Innamorato,
only Malagise owns a spell book. This fact singles him out; but is he
privileged by the possession of a book, symbol of learning? Clearly, the
fays do not need such books because magic comes naturally to them. As
a corollary, the human Malagise’s use of the book shows that magic does
not come naturally to him, but is an object of study and the application of
intellect. Yet, strangely, none of the other human sorcerers uses spell
books, not even Atalante. While the book would seem to be a powerful
tool, we shall see that it fosters dependence, so that without it Malagise is
28 Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts
powerless, and that its use actually portends failure. The more powerful
form of magic in the Innamorato is not Malagise’s traditional bookish
demonic magic, but the fabulous “natural” magic exemplified by the river
of love and the various enchantresses.
At first, the opening canto of the poem is promising for Malagise; he
shows perspicacity superior to all the other men when he is able to resist
Angelica’s charms and recognize that she is not who she claims to be.
With his book he summons demons who provide information; thus
Malagise is the only one to determine the true identity and purpose of the
Cathayan travelers. Again with the help of demons he is transported ef-
fortlessly to the Cathayan camp. Reading less than a page of his book, he
puts to sleep the giant guards, with the intention of killing Angelica.
At this point Malagise’s plans begin to go awry, as he evidences hu-
man frailty. He joins all the other men in succumbing to Angelica’s beauty
and decides to rape her. He takes what seem to him to be elaborate
precautions, reading the entire book to make certain she will continue to
sleep. Relying solely on the book’s power, Malagise forgets or disregards
the demons’ warning about the magic ring, which nullifies all of his spells.
Someone with less implicit confidence in the book’s invincibility would
have taken to heart this warning, and would have taken steps to locate the
ring and to counter its effects. Sorcerers are not known for physical prow-
ess; the surprised Malagise is easily captured. When Angelica takes his
book she takes his power, and effortlessly turns it against him. While
according to the demons Angelica “sapea tutte le incantazïone,” the spells
in the captured book certainly seem to increase her power. She is now
able to command the demons to transport first Malagise and later herself
to Cathay.
Malagise’s failed attempt at the quick and orderly defeat of the anti-
Christian plot results instead in the strengthening of the Cathayan threat.
Angelica becomes even more powerful than before, while the Christians
are left unsuspecting of the danger. Moreover, Malagise’s spell book con-
tributes to the dispersal of various characters, directly with the imprison-
ment of Malagise and Angelica’s return to Cathay, and indirectly with
Orlando’s departure from France in search of her, and the consequent
departures of other knights in search of him.
Much-touted the book’s magic may be, but it proves powerless to over-
come the natural magic of the river of love (“ché amor vince ogni cosa”;
OI 1.5.17; “because Love conquers all!”) that has affected Angelica. There-
fore she proposes to trade the book back to Malagise in exchange for his
promise to bring Ranaldo to her. Yet in Malagise’s hands the spell book
Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts 29
has no less harmful effects. Astonished and angered at Ranaldo’s refusal
to see Angelica even briefly, Malagise uses his spell book to send his
unwilling cousin from Europe to the Palazzo Zoioso. He is willing to kid-
nap Ranaldo despite easily foreseeable dire consequences for the Chris-
tians, resulting from the fact that Ranaldo is in command of Charlemagne’s
army in Spain at the time. Ranaldo’s unexplained disappearance leads
directly to the paladin’s dishonor in the eyes of the pagan enemies, to the
alliance of the separate pagan forces of Marsilio and Gradasso, to their
invasion of France, and to the siege of Paris. Moreover, Malagise subse-
quently plots to kill his cousin at Crudel Rocca when Ranaldo persists in
rejecting Angelica.
Much later (OI 2.22.44– 61) comes the episode of Malagise’s well-
intentioned ambush of two pagan knights. This episode follows the same
pattern of magnification and deflation. Malagise’s power would seem to
be overwhelming when as soon as he opens his book the forest is full of
demons: “Più de ducento ne è per ogni foglia.” However, this suggestion
of puissance is quickly belied by the comic description of the demon
Scarapino, which paints a picture not of formidable satanic malevolence,
but of a mischievous imp who enjoys the good life:
Era un demonio questo Scarapino,
Che dello inferno è proprio la tristizia:
Minuto il giottarello e piccolino,
Ma bene è grosso e grande di malizia;
Alla taverna, dove è miglior vino,
O del gioco e bagascie la divizia,
Nel fumo dello arosto fa dimora,
E qua tentando ciascadun lavora.
(OI 2.22.46)
Though the pagans number only two, they are the famous knights Feraguto
and Rodamonte, and with their martial virtù they rout the hordes of
demons as easily as they would a human mob. Malagise’s abortive am-
bush of the pagan knights results again in his own capture, and this time
that of his brother as well. They will have to await rescue in the Furioso.
30 Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts
Thus in the Innamorato Malagise’s spell book highlights his lack of
power. Two of his three spells fail, leading both times to his capture by
pagan enemies and to his removal from the Christian arena of duty. In
fact, the only time he achieves his goal is when he fails in his duty by
vengefully removing Ranaldo from the Christian center to the exotic lands
of adventure. Each time Malagise’s spell book is mentioned, he fails in
some way; the only time his efforts are beneficial, when he instructs An-
gelica on how to rescue Ranaldo from the monster of Crudel Rocca, the
book is not mentioned at all.
It is possible that this pattern of failure reflects a lack on Malagise’s
part, since Angelica is able to use the book without her efforts backfiring.
There is some lexical support for this idea; while Angelica has the book it
is always called “libro,” but in Malagise’s hands it is referred to only once
as “libro,” once as “quaderno,” and four times as “libretto,” suggesting
that it is less powerful for him.
In contrast to the spell books, the how-to books have anti-magical
functions. Consequently, they promote the orderly advancement of the
plot, specifically by breaking up blocks in the plot. In the Innamorato the
three how-to books are each designed to help Orlando overcome a deadly
peril: the palmer’s book for the Sphinx, Morgana’s book for her trial of
the horn, and the lady messenger’s book for Falerina’s garden. While in
the first episode the paladin succeeds on his own, the other times the
books help him put an end to dangers that threaten many characters,
even to the point where he is credited with saving the world.
The use of how-to books consistently raises the question of reading
ability. How much do the knights learn from what they read? Boiardo’s
Orlando has notable failures as a reader.
When Orlando rescues the son of a palmer, the gift of the father’s
gratitude is a book
. . . “Well, I forgot:
I could have answered and not fought.
But God desired it otherwise.”
The palmer presented his gift to a knight so strong that he had never
needed such help, and was accustomed to solving problems with immedi-
ate action. This is the most obvious of the times when Orlando shows his
inability as a reader.41 Here he even attributes his own failing to God’s
will. With the punch line delivered, the palmer’s book fades into oblivion
as Orlando is confronted by his next battle.
However, the lesson of the palmer’s book was not completely in vain,
for when later Orlando receives how-to books he makes some use of
them. In Cantos 24 and 25 of Book 1 he faces Morgana’s trials with the
help of the official rule book, and in Book 2 Cantos 4 and 5 he destroys
Falerina’s garden with the guidance of a book. These books are more
limited in scope, concerning solely the immediate adventure.
The trials of Morgana (in her capacity as the source of all wealth) are
proposed to Orlando by her wandering maid, and Orlando chooses to
undergo them mostly out of a knightly desire to prove his valor, although
the stated reward for victory is a “cosa tanto aventurata” that it will con-
tent him for the rest of his life. Although the maid explains the outline of
the test, after summoning each new trial with the magic horn Orlando
must read the book’s instructions to succeed. Apparently the book itself
forms part of the test; the hero must be quick to assimilate the instruc-
tions before the monster is upon him. Orlando’s glorious victory, how-
ever, has no reward beyond the honor of it, because the “cavallier perfetto,”
the only one who could complete the trials, disdains the hunt of the magic
stag/worldly wealth. Not only did he refuse the chase when he and
Brandimarte encountered the deer in Canto 22, but he persists even now
when he would be assured of catching it.
It is several cantos later that the reader learns the true significance of
the trial of the horn, i.e. that Orlando’s victory broke the spell that Morgana
had intended for the ruination of the world (OI 2.7.42). Thus the maid’s
presentation of the trial had appealed strongly to the knight’s sense of
chivalry and adventure, to draw him into the deadly contest, but the
unchivalric reward, wealth, was the only thing the Fata del Tesoro had to
offer, perhaps as a final attempt to corrupt the victorious knight.
32 Boiardo’s Marvelous Artifacts
The book which Orlando brings into Falerina’s garden contains a map
of the garden and descriptions of its inhabitants. It was given to him by a
nameless lady messenger whom he had met outside the garden the day
before, who told him the necessary conditions to defeat the guardian of
the first gate (chastity and entering at sunrise). Berni identifies the lady as
prudence and the book as reasoned judgement.42 Unfortunately, Orlando
does not make immediate use of these virtues, for by the time he enters
the garden he has forgotten the book. He depends on a fortuitous inscrip-
tion on a fountain to find his way to Falerina’s palace, and he only remem-
bers the book when his prisoner refuses to tell him how to escape the
garden.
Thenceforth the book guides him in the defeat of each monster, until
he reaches the giant guardian of the northern gate. According to the
book this giant cannot be defeated, neither by strength, daring, one’s own
wisdom, nor the advice of others. Orlando’s response is a characteristic
“Chi può durare, al fin vince ogni cosa” (OI 2.4.65; ““One who can last
can conquer all!””) and he wins this time by his own cleverness as well as
his strength. While he succeeds in exiting from the garden in defiance of
the book’s dictum, he must refer to it again in order to learn how to
destroy the garden completely. In contrast to the narrator’s protestations
of faith in the trustworthiness and authority of the author Turpin, Boiardo
gives concrete evidence that writers are fallible, too, in this case by under-
estimating human virtù.
Interestingly, Fiordelisa has a copy of this guidebook, enabling her to
describe the garden to Ranaldo in 1.17.39– 45, long before Orlando goes
there. However, Fiordelisa convinces Ranaldo to defer the adventure of
Falerina’s garden until after fulfilling his commitment to free Dragontina’s
prisoners, so this book ends up never being used.
Thus the how-to books provide solutions to problems if the reader
pays proper attention. Boiardo’s Orlando is by no means a sophisticated
or attentive reader, but he can progress.43 His laughable forgetfulness in
the case of the palmer’s book is followed by an impressive display of
quick-witted reading ability combined with combat skill during Morgana’s
trial. In Falerina’s garden he backslides at first, forgetting to use the guide-
book, but goes on to an excellent critical reading. Not only does he follow
the book’s instructions effectively; in the end he revises its inaccurate,
defeatist conclusion. Boiardo may at times poke fun at Orlando, but the
paladin also has his moments of triumph. Orlando’s completion of
Morgana’s trial helps to reestablish his position as a perfect knight, at
least in matters of war.
Chapter Two
Boiardo’s Monsters and Mages
Supernatural Creatures
The world of the Orlando innamorato contains a plethora of widely
varied supernatural creatures, most naturally-occurring, but including some
intentionally enchanted (e.g. Aridano). In this chapter I deal first with
marvelous steeds, whether horses or other, so necessary to knights. The
second section concerns monsters, which range from a normal-seeming
dog, to Boiardo’s versions of mythological creatures, to colorful inven-
tions of his own. Next come the omnipresent Boiardan giants. The last
section treats the mythological villains Medusa and the Naiads of the
Riviera del Riso.
i. Marvelous Steeds
ii. Monsters
iii. Giants
The narrator had insisted on Medusa’s beauty: “la sua faccia bella” (OI
1.12.31), “sua beltade” (OI 1.12.35); he refers to her as “donzella” (OI
1.12.31, 34) or “dama” (OI 1.12.34, 35, 38). Yet this snaky horror seems
to be her true reflection nonetheless, as the Gorgon, hitherto so charm-
ing, becomes: “Quella Medusa, falsa incantatrice, / . . . de la sua figura
sbigotita” (OI 1.12.40; “the false / Enchantress— that Medusa . . . In fear
on glimpsing her reflection”).
The Naiads provide another pleasant prison of forgetfulness for Or-
lando and other knights. Orlando is lured to the Riviera del Riso by
Atalante’s illusions in order to keep the paladin from battling Rugiero
during the African invasion of France.10 Orlando finds the stream near
that same forest of Ardena (OI 2.31.43) that contains the magic waters of
love and hate, a forest previously located near Paris, but now moved to
southern France. Seeing in the water a crystal palace with lovely ladies
dancing, Orlando jumps in to join them and “per letizia” immediately
begins to forget “Perché fosse qua gionto e di qual loco” (OI 2.31.47;
“Where he was from and why he’d come”).
Inasmuch as the Naiads hold their captives by means of love, the epi-
sode continues Boiardo’s commentary on this complex emotion. Orlando
is “libero e disciolto, / Preso de amore al dolce incantamento” (OI 3.7.9;
Boiardo’s Monsters and Mages 39
“unchained and free, / Captured by love’s sweet magic charm”). The
front of the Naiad sentry’s sign invites adventurers and lovers to enter
their realm, while the unseen message on the back foretells the knights’
entrapment by their own unrestrained passions (OI 3.7.12– 14). Fiordelisa,
in guiding the rescue party, stresses the importance of reason, of self-
control: “Vince ogni cosa la animositate, / Ma condurla con senno è di
mestiero” (OI 3.7.16; “Courage will conquer everything, / But wisdom
has to be its guide”).
The sign’s double message applies obviously to the knights, but the
Naiads themselves are motivated by love of a sort: “De’ cavallier sovente
se inamorano, / Ché star senza uomo a ogni dama rencresce” (OI 3.7.7;
“And [they] often fall in love with knights. / A woman grieves without a
man”). It is possible the narrator shows them a jot of sympathy here,
lonely for a man like every woman, and they certainly cannot be accused
in traditional fashion of being cruel ice women, tormenting their suitors
by rebuffing all advances (NB the sensual dance of OI 3.7.29). Nonethe-
less, this verse might also suggest the possessive nature of their love.
They do keep the knights as prisoners (however happy and willing), and
seek to acquire more. Upon Orlando’s arrival, “Solo a guardarlo aveano
ogni lor cura” (OI 3.7.9; they “Care only to admire him”); “guardare”
signifies that they admire him, as Ross translates it, but it also bears the
more sinister suggestion that they watch over or guard him.
The next stanza is somewhat ambiguous, but provides more evidence
for their possessiveness:
At the very least, we know from the rescuers’ experience that the Naiads’
wall and wood are by no means intended to keep anyone out, but to keep
them in. I think these verses are even more telling. This “bosco grande”
and the colored marble wall with balcony and columns are a remarkable
sight, yet despite the pluperfect (“avean formato”), Orlando saw no sign
of them when he entered the “boschetto” of the Riviera del Riso (OI
2.31.44). It would seem that the Naiads created the wall, and enlarged
and enchanted the wood in order to “guardare” the count. The initial
“[p]erò” makes no sense as an adversative, but as a variant of “perciò” it
supports my interpretation.
Into this realm ruled by desire come Orlando’s would-be rescuers,
Rugiero, Gradasso, Brandimarte, and Fiordelisa. Rugiero and Gradasso
are quickly ensnared by the laurel nymph and the flying horse, but the
exemplary married couple persevere. Some of the temptations that
Brandimarte faces (“Or bei palagi, or monti de tesoro”) attempt to play
on his weakness for wealth, demonstrated earlier when he had left his
friends to chase the gold-antlered stag (OI 1.22.57– 61). He resists these
various enchantments “Ché Fiordelisa sempre lo consiglia” (OI 3.7.30;
“Since Fiordelisa counsels him”). In this episode Fiordelisa in fact demon-
strates an unprecedented expertise in magic; her only earlier indication of
any knowledge in this area was her possession of a copy (unused) of the
guidebook to Falerina’s garden. Did she learn all about the Riviera del
Riso from the African soothsayer who had informed the lovers of Orlando’s
captivity (OI 3.6.56)? In any case, it is she who provides the remedy to
the Naiads’ enchantments:
. . . essa già composti avea per arte
Quattro cerchielli in forma di corona
Con fiori et erbe acolte in strane parte,
Per liberar de incanti ogni persona
(OI 3.7.33)
Practitioners of Magic
The spell-casters of the Innamorato display a wide range of power, from
the weak but villainous kidnapper of Fiordelisa to Morgana, who unites
the individual powers of a fay with allegorical powers over all wealth (as
the Fata del Tesoro) and over chance (as Fortuna). The attitudes of prac-
titioners of magic toward Christian knights also vary from hostility (e.g.
Falerina, Balisardo), to benevolence (the white and black fays who protect
Grifone and Aquilante), to neutrality (Febosilla, and the fay with Hector’s
armor). The first section deals with fays, ladies who belong to a super-
natural, non-human race. The second section concerns sorcerers and
sorceresses, human beings who practice magic.
i. Fays
Boiardo is credited with the important step of introducing fays into the
Italian epic.11 “The marvelous of Boiardo and Ariosto gave new life to the
giants and fairies of the original Celtic lore.”12 Yet of the three most im-
portant fays in the Innamorato, Dragontina, Falerina, and Morgana, only
one is explicitly a fay in the poem. It is on Ariosto’s authority that Dragontina
and Falerina are known as fays.13 However, this is not a large step for
Ariosto to take, for, as enchantresses, they fit easily into the category.14
They are important precursors of Ariosto’s Alcina, as by capturing knights
with their enchantments they block the advancement of the plot. Murrin
sees these three enchantresses as presiding over false Elysia with different
emphases on the same themes: in Dragontina’s garden the psychological
condition of the victim; in Falerina’s the deranged psychology of the vic-
timizer and her political state; in Morgana’s “the kingdom of metals and
of Death itself.”15 In their gardens their victims are held in various states
of unproductive stasis: Dragontina uses forgetfulness; Morgana, simple
captivity; and Falerina, the final solution of death. Each of these episodes
is open to allegorical interpretation.
A drink from Dragontina’s river of forgetfulness causes her victims to
lose the knowledge of their identities,16 and replaces it with obedience to
herself. Ross points out how fitting this punishment is for Orlando; “When
. . . the sight of Angelica causes Orlando to forget his duties as a Christian
knight, he soon finds himself in Dragontina’s garden, having literally drunk
a cup of forgetfulness and blindly serving his mistress.”17 Cavallo sees the
42 Boiardo’s Monsters and Mages
pictures of Circe, which so fascinate Orlando, as an unheeded warning to
him against Angelica, equated with the Aeaean witch.18
Dragontina’s drink itself is not seen as unpleasant, revealing the seduc-
tiveness of the thought of escape from the pains and onerous duties of
life, and an acknowledgement of the peril of succumbing to it.19 Orlando
forgets his own circumstances, and Angelica and “lo infinito amore / Che
tanto ha travagliata la sua vita” (OI 1.6.46; “The boundless love that
changed his life”), and his emperor; in short, his conflict between love
and duty vanishes. When Brandimarte is captured, the narrator even goes
so far as to praise the drink:
It seems likely that Ariosto had this episode in mind when he imprisoned
Bradamante and Ruggiero together in the palace of illusions, and cer-
tainly Circe is the main model for Alcina.
Unlike Dragontina, Falerina20 is talked about long before she comes
onstage in the poem. She is first described in Book 1, Canto 17, sixteen
cantos before she appears in Book 2. Boiardo may have had her in mind
as early as Book 1, Canto 8 when Marchino’s widow narrates the king of
Orgagna’s part in Marchino’s downfall. Falerina’s deleterious effects on
the outside world are felt from Canto 14 of Book 1, when Angelica meets
Fiordelisa in the tribute tower, where victims are captured to, as the reader
learns later, feed Falerina’s dragon. She has ruined not only outlanders
but also her own kingdom with her predations. Falerina’s own actions
lead to her downfall, in that her transgressions have isolated her from any
supporters and made her many enemies, such as the lady messenger who
helps Orlando.21 Likewise, her garden contains the seeds of its own de-
struction. Orlando uses the Siren’s blood against the bull, the Fauna’s net
against the giants, and Balisarda against all of the monsters, turning
Falerina’s creations against each other. Although he fights magic with
magic here, his most significant achievements (exiting the garden and
destroying it) are due to his using his head; even such potent tools as the
guidebook and Balisarda would not have brought him victory if he had
not used them wisely.
It is at this point, with her cause lost, that Falerina seems to experience
a change of heart. Weeping for the destruction of her garden, she begs
Orlando to have pity on her wretched plight, admits that her crimes de-
44 Boiardo’s Monsters and Mages
serve death, and thereafter speaks quite humbly and helpfully to Orlando.
She makes three statements that contradict the plot elsewhere in the
poem. Reichenbach explains these contradictions as due to Boiardo’s
forgetfulness of details.22
However, I believe that Falerina’s change of heart is false, and hence
that the plot contradictions are self-serving lies on her part. It is notable
that Falerina’s change of heart is not a religious conversion. Unlike
Agricane, Brandimarte, and Fiordelisa, Falerina is not baptized and never
commits herself to Christianity and its precepts.23 Thus her conversion is
not necessarily sincere.
Furthermore, Falerina has strong motives for lying, namely self-preser-
vation and revenge. There is no doubt that she is vindictive in the ex-
treme. The reason she gives for her willingness to murder more people
than there are leaves on a tree is her quest for revenge on Origille and
Arïante for their unspecified offense.24 When magical foresight tells her
that Orlando will without a doubt destroy her garden, she makes a magic
sword to kill him. Falerina knows with certainty that she cannot prevent
his victory; thus her purpose must be revenge. When Orlando captures
the enchantress, she determinedly remains silent, refusing, despite his
threats of death and torment, and subsequently his entreaties, to help him
escape from the garden. Though she trembles in fear, she still takes de-
light in his frustration (OI 2.4.31). Yet once the garden that has cost
seven months of her labor and the lives of hordes of victims is undone,
she breaks down.
My hypothesis that this change of heart is insincere would resolve the
three plot contradictions at this point in the text (OI 2.5.16– 23). On
Falerina’s part, they are self-serving lies. On the narrator’s part, they are
deliberate signals. The narrator made these inconsistencies noticeable to
the reader precisely in order to draw attention to Falerina’s untruthful-
ness, and consequently to cast doubt on her change of heart.
During the passage in question, Falerina’s speech is somewhat inco-
herent, as if she were frantically extemporizing. The enchantress’s first
contradictory statement is that neither of her two targets ever fell into her
clutches. However, it is still fresh in the reader’s mind that Orlando res-
cued Origille from guards escorting her to the dragon just before he ar-
rived at the garden. In my opinion, this lament of Falerina’s rings true. It
is quite possible that she did not learn the identities of her myriad victims.
If she did care to discover their names, it may have been her practice to
wait until they arrived at the garden where she could see them. Neverthe-
less, the reader, having noticed this inconsistency, begins to pay closer
attention.
Boiardo’s Monsters and Mages 45
Falerina’s second questionable claim is that when Angelica escaped
from the tribute tower, the princess also freed the other ladies imprisoned
there. Yet, the reader remembers that Angelica escaped alone (OI 1.14.37–
38). This misstatement is the least purposeful of the three on the literal
level. Is Falerina so distressed that she still thinks she can inspire Orlando’s
pity for her tribulations? Even in her agitation she quickly realizes that this
lie will not serve her purpose. Although this lie is an error on Falerina’s
part, it is another deliberate move by Boiardo. This contradiction is not
intended for Orlando, since neither Falerina nor the reader can know
whether Orlando ever heard the true account from Angelica. Rather,
Boiardo intended such an obvious untruth to further alert the reader’s
suspicions of Falerina. The enchantress’s first two contradictory state-
ments are not useful to her purpose; she quickly abandons those lines of
thought, but they have already served the narrator’s purpose of encourag-
ing a more attentive reading.
Finally,25 her claim that she magically created the tribute tower to cap-
ture victims for her dragon seems to contradict the account given when
Angelica was captured, where the narrator informed us that the deceitful
old man captured women as tribute to the king of Orgagna (OI 1.14.29).
This is not necessarily a contradiction, if one posits a long-standing col-
laboration between Falerina and the absent king of Orgagna. Such a col-
laboration is never confirmed or denied by the narrator. In any case, this
is the crucial point of her speech. Now she can claim that if Orlando kills
her, all the current prisoners in the tower will die with her, due to her
magical connection to the tower.
Although Orlando had threatened Falerina, the narrator now reassures
us that the paladin would never actually kill a woman. Rather, Orlando is
relieved at learning a reason to relax this stance. He is deceived,26 and
agrees to escort her to free the prisoners. Thus begins the second stage
of Falerina’s vengeful plan. Whether or not Falerina created the tower,
she must know a safe route to it. After all, her not-very-formidable guards
have been transporting prisoners from it for a long time. Yet she and
Orlando soon arrive at Morgana’s lake, where lurks Aridano, whom Falerina
clearly considers a match for Orlando. If she cannot kill Orlando with her
magic sword, she will take the risk of leading him to battle Aridano, who
is magically six times more powerful than any opponent.
But how does one convince a knight of romance to go into deadly
danger? By telling him where that danger lies, of course. The seemingly
reformed Falerina applies reverse psychology by urging Orlando to flee
with her at once, and extolling Aridano’s strength. She explains that the
lake is Morgana’s attempt at revenge on the knight who won the trials of
46 Boiardo’s Monsters and Mages
the horn in Book 1. Whether or not she knows Orlando is that knight,
she thus appeals to the paladin’s vanity and sense of responsibility. Also,
her apparent fear for her own safety draws a protective response from the
knight. The count naturally reacts by declaring his intention to fight Aridano
(OI 2.7.48). She continues to plead with him to flee, declaring that even
Orlando and all of Charlemagne’s court could not prevail here. She must
know Orlando’s identity from her magical foresight, but she feigns igno-
rance in order to use his vanity against him. She must be as surprised as
the reader when “Il franco conte a quel dolce parlare / A poco a poco si
venìa piegando, / E destinava dietro ritornare” (OI 2.7.50; “Her words
were gentle, and the Count / Was yielding to them bit by bit, / Almost
deciding to turn back”).
The fight takes place after all, because Orlando catches sight of his
kinsman Ranaldo’s armor hung up as a trophy. Falerina waits until Or-
lando and Aridano have both been submerged in the lake, previously an
indication of Aridano’s victory, before she flees. She makes as certain as
possible of his death, before abandoning him to his fate. It would doubt-
less gall her if she learned that, ironically, Orlando is able to kill Aridano
using her magic sword.
With Falerina’s successful masquerade and escape, Boiardo subverts
the apparent triumph of justice. The enchantress remains free to oppose
knights in subsequent adventures. Her return must however await a differ-
ent poet. Ariosto does not take Falerina’s change of heart any more seri-
ously than I do. In the Cinque canti (1.24– 25) Falerina appears in the
fays’ council, where Ariosto portrays her as thirsting for revenge against
Orlando. She joins the other fays in voicing her grievances and petition-
ing Demogorgone for vengeance.
Like Falerina, Morgana is malevolent and vengeful. As the Fata del
Tesoro she represents the corrupting force of wealth, capable even of
separating Brandimarte, a paragon of devoted friendship, from Orlando,
as the former pursues the gold-antlered stag. When Orlando foils her
attempt to destroy the world by means of the trials of the magic horn, her
desire for revenge establishes two loci of blocks to the plot, where many
characters are imprisoned: Morgana’s lake itself and the Isole Lontane.
She no more limits the victims of her vengefulness than Falerina did. The
guardian of Morgana’s lake, Aridano, is a baseborn villainous giant on
whom she bestows magical strength so that “ricercando il mondo tutto
quanto, / Non serà cavallier di tanto ardire, / Qual non convenga a quel
ponte perire” (OI 2.7.44; “if all the world were searched, / No cavalier—
however bold— / Could overcome her fatal bridge”).
Boiardo’s Monsters and Mages 47
In this highly allegorical episode,27 Orlando must continue to use his
wits if he is to have any chance of success. Arguably his bypassing of the
disappearing bridge shows brawn rather than brains, but he thinks his
way to obtaining the shining gem to light his path, without which he
would surely have died wandering in the darkness. Later, showing a pru-
dent distrust of Morgana/Ventura (learned from painful experience), he
keeps hold of her while he uses her key to free her prisoners, averting the
potential disaster. Yet his procedure is not flawless; when he is trying to
leave Morgana’s underground realm, he allows fortune to lead him on the
downward path, and he ignores two warnings to seize Morgana’s forelock
while he can.
In the central moment of the episode Boiardo presents the most trans-
parent allegory in the poem when a penitent Orlando pursues the fleeing
Morgana/Ventura, whose forelock he had failed to grasp when he had the
chance. Although Morgana’s song states that a missed opportunity never
returns, Orlando’s humanistic virtù eventually allows him to capture the
fay. The primacy of virtue over adversity is reiterated in the passage:
ii. Sorcerers
The palmer fears pursuit so much that he carries the lady away for more
than an hour until they reach a cave. Ironically, the open woods, where
Fiordelisa had called in vain for help, was safer for the palmer than his
perceived sanctuary, which harbors the fierce lion that kills and eats him.
Much more formidable than the palmer is Balisardo, who is unique in
that he is the only giant who is a sorcerer. He forms part of Morgana’s
attempt at vengeance on Orlando, in that he captures knights for King
Manodante who seeks to exchange Orlando for Zilïante. In fact, he is
introduced immediately after Orlando frees Morgana’s prisoners, and in-
terrupts equally the dutiful voyage of Ranaldo, Dudone, Iroldo, and Prasildo
to France to support Charlemagne, and Orlando’s amorous quest for
Angelica.
When Balisardo volunteered for the job, he claimed he would capture
Orlando with magic, but in reality he uses a variety of methods, of which
magic is not the most effective. He retains enough of the habits of giants
to seek physical battle first, and is formidable enough to capture Iroldo
and Prasildo this way. If he cannot defeat a knight by physical means, he
then resorts to magical transformations, metamorphosing into ever more
frightful shapes. This magical ability, central to the interest of the charac-
Boiardo’s Monsters and Mages 51
ter, is marvelous enough to occasion the narrator’s protestation of inabil-
ity to describe something so wondrous— yet in none of the narrated battles
is this tactic successful. Dudone, Ranaldo, Orlando, and Brandimarte are
not inconvenienced by their opponent’s shape-shifting, and virtù over-
comes magic once again when they reduce him to flight.
Unfortunately, Balisardo still has something up his sleeve; he leads
each of his opponents into a snare set up on Manodante’s ship, and
ingegno defeats even knightly valor. The narrator dwells on the humilia-
tion of the knights as they are imprisoned by the extremely contemptible
crewmen, “tal gente . . . morta di fame, nuda e pedocchiosa” (OI 2.11.35;
“such men as these— / . . . naked, full of lice, / Half-starved”). It is only
through Brandimarte’s virtue of friendship that Balisardo is defeated, the
prisoners are freed, and Manodante’s kingdom is converted to Christianity.
The last major sorcerer of the Innamorato is Rugiero’s protector,
Atalante, whose paternal love for Rugiero makes him a sympathetic and
very human character. His foreknowledge of Rugiero’s prowess led him to
give Rugiero rigorous physical training from early childhood, including a
special diet and hunting exercises of increasing difficulty, in order to pre-
pare him for his adventures. Atalante also predicted and praised the won-
drous virtue of Rugiero’s descendants among the Este. Nevertheless, when
the time comes for Rugiero to set out on his destined path, Atalante’s
paternal affection has grown so strong that he can no longer bear the
thought of the cost of it all: Rugiero’s early death and Africa’s loss of his
glorious descendants. Thus begins the sorcerer’s struggle against destiny
that will play such an important role in the Furioso.
In Boiardo’s poem this struggle, consisting mostly of emotional at-
tempts at persuasion, is not nearly so epic as it will become for Ariosto.
First the sorcerer hides Rugiero from Agramante’s searchers, necessitat-
ing Brunello’s quest for the magic ring. When the garden on the monte di
Carena is revealed, Atalante pleads tearfully with Rugiero not to leave
him. When neither this nor warnings to Rugiero about his fated death can
deter the young knight from participating in Agramante’s tourney, Atalante
tries to accept fate:
Magic Artifacts
Having introduced marvelous armaments in Chapter One, I begin here
with Ariosto’s treatment of the magic lance, and proceed to his develop-
ment of the theme of the morality of magic, which he explores in relation
to the magic shield and the harquebus. The third section deals with the
magic ring, and the fourth with the magic waters of love and disamore.
The next two sections concern artifacts not inherited from Boiardo: the
goblet which reveals adultery, and the magic horn that induces panic. The
first part of the chapter concludes with a discussion of the magic books of
the Furioso.
i. The Lance
Bradamant was no weakling, true, but she was not so superior to Marfisa that she
could have knocked her down at each stroke— this was the virtue residing in the
magic lance.
Marfisa drove her lance through the chest of her first opponent, and it emerged a
yard through his back. Then she drew her sword and shattered four helmets like
glass in less time than I have told it. Bradamant proved no less effective, though
her golden lance worked on another principle: all whom it touched it floored—
twice as many, they were— but it slew none of them.
Indeed Astolfo and Bradamant, to whom it succeeded, both believed that if tri-
umph always attended their jousting it was not due to any magic but simply to
their own prowess: they would achieve the same results, they reckoned, with any
other lance they chanced to use.
The characters believe their accomplishments are due to their own prow-
ess but, as St. John has already made clear to Astolfo, all the time it was
God’s will (or magic, or Fortune, or Providence, or the poet’s design).
This is another instance of “ecco il giudicio uman come spesso erra!”
According to the theories of chivalry, God makes the righteous knight
strongest. The Ariostan God achieves the same result by means of a
magic weapon. He even preserves the secret of its power so that the
knights need have no moral reservations, despite the fact that the lance is
designed for use in chivalric contexts where knights must be most careful
to follow the rules. The characters’ total ignorance of the lance’s magic
power makes its use acceptable. It is perfectly legitimate for a knight to
employ a lance in a chivalric context, and the chivalric strictures are not
harmed when no one at all realizes they have been violated.
Had he thought of bringing out the shield of Atlas— the shield of the blinding light,
which the magician had left suspended from the saddle— he would have overcome
the ugly mob in a trice, and made them all fall down in a dazzle. It could be that
he would not stoop to using it, preferring to rely on valour rather than on guile.
Ruggiero’s concerns for the rules of chivalry are not shared by his
opponents.6 Whereas the narrator states explicitly that Ruggiero could
have defeated the monsters easily and quickly, instead he allows them to
stop his progress toward virtue and Logistilla. Then, because they are
lovely ladies, he allows the two servants of Alcina to persuade him to turn
back toward Alcina’s realm. Thus his refusal to use the magic shield has
left him vulnerable to the unchivalric forces of evil. Alcina’s island itself
has put him in the proper frame of mind to be seduced. The monsters
outnumbered him and, being obviously ugly and evil, allowed him a clearcut
enemy to fight valiantly. But he is left open to the deception of the two
beautiful ladies who gain his trust with their apparent helpfulness; he is
affected by their beauty and cannot believe it could hide evil intentions.
Finally, Alcina uses spells to deceive him as to her age and beauty. His
knightly honor has been turned against him.7
When he is fleeing from Alcina’s realm Ruggiero chooses to take along
the shield. Already, following Melissa’s advice, he has begun using decep-
tion himself to keep Alcina unsuspecting of his changed perceptions:
Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts 61
Ma come l’avisò Melissa, stette
senza mutare il solito sembiante,
fin che l’arme sue, più dì neglette,
si fu vestito dal capo alle piante;
e per non farle ad Alcina suspette,
finse provar s’in esse era aiutante,
finse provar se gli era fatto grosso,
dopo alcun dì che non l’ha avute indosso.
(OF 7.75; emphasis mine)
But, as Melissa advised him, he betrayed no change in his face until he had
resumed his armour, from head to foot, which for so many days he had neglected.
And, so as to avert Alcina’s suspicions, he pretended to try it on just to see how
easily he could manage it— he pretended to see if he could still squeeze into it
after so many days since he last wore it.
These “mere” three uses of the shield are deceptive, since they are a
majority of Ruggiero’s battles to this point. He has refrained from using
the shield twice: against Alcina’s monsters, when it was such a mistake;
and against the illusionary giant who lured him into the palace of illu-
sions, catching him by surprise and immediately fleeing so that the shield
might not have been efficacious anyway. Craig believes that by now the
shield has become a “hidden psychological crutch,” since despite his pro-
fessed reluctance to use it he keeps it within easy reach.11 Yet one of
those three times it was not Ruggiero who uncovered the shield, but
Logistilla’s pilot, and the other two times he tried traditional methods
before resorting to magic.
He was not dissatisfied with the results the previous times, but this
final accidental use of the shield seems shameful to him. How is this time
different? The answer is that this joust has the trappings of chivalry. Alcina’s
huntsman belonged to a lower class and Ruggiero wanted to avoid the
indignity of fighting him. Ruggiero tried honorable weapons against the
sea monster, a foe which greatly overpowered him— but when these proved
ineffective there was no reason not to use magic in order to rescue An-
64 Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts
gelica. The four knights, however, are Ruggiero’s peers. They uphold an
“usanza fella” but they do it with the appearance of chivalry, and the code
demands Ruggiero meet them fairly.
Ruggiero ought to apply his antipodean teachers’ moral lessons, once
he returns to the active life of a knight. However, it is no accident that the
first sight which greets Ruggiero upon his return to Europe is the review
of troops outside London, reminding him that he is back in the land of
chivalry and reviving his sense of punctilio. Outside Pinabello’s castle,
Ruggiero adheres scrupulously to the code although he faces four valiant
and highly-skilled knights who reluctantly humiliate innocent passersby,
and are even forced unchivalrously to attack three against one. Ruggiero’s
“inglorious” victory allows him to leave without hurting any innocents,
and in time to save Ricciardetto. Yet Ruggiero’s main concern after his
accidental victory is that his reputation, upon which chivalry placed such
emphasis, will suffer (OF 22.90).
Ruggiero’s subsequent abandonment of the shield has been interpreted
variously. Santoro believes this decision is natural in a knight endowed
with virtù as opposed to the fortuna upon which Astolfo depends.12
Wiggins, who considers magical paraphernalia to be the knight’s just ad-
vantage over evil, sees this abandonment as a suicidal action brought on
by Ruggiero’s preoccupation with his knightly appearance as opposed to
essence at this period in his career.13 Baillet attributes Ruggiero’s feeling
of shame to his knowledge that it is time to take his destiny in hand
without outside help.14 Lazzaro sees magic and illusion as no longer nec-
essary to Ruggiero once he has accepted his destiny after being liberated
from the palace of illusions.15 Craig points out that Ruggiero’s seemingly
final solution to the problem may not be definitive after all:
In a symbolic act of expiation and renunciation he throws the shield into a deep
well, his shame sinking with it . . . Through the ritualistic act and prayer-like
language the hidden shame is linked to the hidden shield, now forever covered.
Or is it? Equally characteristic of Ariosto we find the finality of the image, so
insisted upon, dissolving before our eyes as rumors of the shield’s existence en-
gender a lengthy quest to uncover it, as if it were the Grail or the Sepulcher, rather
than a profane object. Its resurfacing remains a perpetual, threatening possibil-
ity, adding a certain nightmare quality familiar to anyone who hopes to bury a
secret shame.16
While it is certainly imprudent within the world of the poem for Ruggiero
to cast away the shield, such a grand gesture of chivalric punctilio was
doubtless pleasing to Ariosto’s intended audience. I believe that from this
point on, Ariosto felt that, for purposes of encomium, it was time to
Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts 65
showcase the virtù and irreproachable honor of the forefather of the
Este. Similarly, Bacchelli sees the reason for Ruggiero to be such a stickler
as due to political considerations involving the public image of the Este:
Wicked, ugly invention, how did you find a place in human hearts? You have
destroyed military glory, and dishonoured the profession of arms; valour and
martial skill are now discredited, so that often the miscreant will appear a better
man than the valiant. Because of you no longer may boldness and courage go
into the field to match their strength.
Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts 67
Here the anaphora makes the condemnation more effective; the repeated
monosyllables slow the pace of the verses, imposing a solemn rhythm.
Through painful experience Ariosto had a realistic view of the horrors of
contemporary warfare which he could compare to the idealistic vision of
the chivalric tradition. Orlando’s condemnation of the harquebus is the
poet’s condemnation of the bloody contemporary war which did not even
have “la consolante illusione di far rivivere le antiche virtù cavalleresche.”22
Yet the moral condemnation of guns appears only in the third edition
of the Furioso; the earlier versions of the poem contained positive refer-
ences to guns, which Ariosto chose to retain in the final edition.23 Through-
out the poem the narrator praises the military accomplishments of his
patrons, which were based on artillery. Twice (OF 25.14 and 27.24) he
admiringly compares the strength of heroic knights, namely Ruggiero and
Marfisa, to the power of firearms. This may be out of patriotism and
loyalty to the Este, in that he believed that if such powerful weapons must
exist, then they ought to belong to the elite and specifically to his own
lords.24 No matter why he makes this exception, as Chesney says, it
shows the complexity of real-world morality.25
The distinction between enchanted weapons and magic ones helps to
illuminate Ruggiero’s and Orlando’s behavior. Enchanted armaments,
because they have no overt magical function of their own, depend on the
knightly skill of their wielder, and thus are not deleterious to knightly
honor. Magical weapons, by nullifying the effect of personal valor, are
almost unavoidably subversive of chivalry. The golden lance is the only
truly magic weapon that can pass in a chivalric setting, because its power
is unknown; Astolfo’s and Bradamante’s use of it in ignorance cannot be
condemned. Moreover, its magic is camouflaged by the knights’ own skill.
The two weapons recognized as magic in the Furioso, the shield and the
harquebus, are decisively rejected by honorable knights as inherently in-
imical to chivalric values. This treatment supports an analogy with the
traditional view of magic weapons as employed solely by the weak, cow-
ardly, and villainous to gain an undeserved advantage. This is, in fact,
Delcorno Branca’s conclusion: Ariosto firmly maintains the traditional
condemnation of magic weapons.26
However, the question of the morality of the use of magic in the Furioso
has further complexities. Sometimes there is no hint of doubt about magic’s
acceptability. The narrator openly approves the shield’s use on Alcina’s
isle and against the sea monster, for example. Moreover, Astolfo’s con-
stant use of magical tools allows him to accomplish a great deal, including
a trip to the heavens. Although the magic horn in particular ought to
generate moral difficulties, since it functions as a weapon, Astolfo’s use of
68 Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts
it is taken for granted. Unreproached by herself or the narrator, Bradamante
is able to seek Ruggiero safely in the midst of the Saracen army due to the
ring’s magic power of invisibility (OF 7.35). Merlin, Melissa, and Logistilla,
characters with claims to wisdom and authority, foster the use of magic.
The use of magic is acceptable in the Furioso solely outside of the
chivalric context. Only when used against other knights, instead of against
monsters or unruly mobs, is there a problem. Once Ruggiero returns both
physically and psychologically to the world of chivalry, he eschews the
use of magic. Astolfo and Bradamante, whose concerns in life extend
beyond the chivalric, are more flexible in their attitude toward magic.
Astolfo’s particular predilection toward magic has several contributing
factors. Besides the fact that many of his adventures are against unchivalric
opponents in unchivalric places, the English knight is not an ancestor of
the Este; thus he is allowed to be more pragmatic than punctilious. Fur-
ther, Astolfo was traditionally an eccentric, even before Boiardo’s por-
trayal of him.27
The cases in the Furioso of the approved use of magic demonstrate
that, while magic has no legitimate place in the chivalric world of jousts
against knightly opponents, in the wider unchivalric world magic may be
the only means of defeating evil or amoral opponents who have their own
unfair advantages. Ariosto may find chivalry attractive in some ways, but
he portrays clearly its fragility, its impracticality, its limits against those
who do not share its code of honor.28 To survive in the real world, and for
good to triumph in the real world, people may sometimes need to employ
less than strictly honorable methods, whether in the form of a magic
weapon or the deceit that Melissa tries to teach. From an overview, what
matters is the use to which magic is put.
This was the ring she took with her to France the first time she made the journey
with her brother. . . . With this ring she neutralized the spells Maugis cast on her
at Merlin’s tomb. With it she helped Orlando and others to escape one morning
from Dragontina; / with this ring she made herself invisible and escaped from the
dungeon where a wicked old man had imprisoned her. . . . Brunello found his
way into her castle and stole the ring from her, for Agramant wanted it.
Brunello . . . stole the ring from her . . . . Ever since that moment Fortune had
frowned upon her until she lost her kingdom.
This was not difficult . . . thanks to the ring which, against all human experience,
made her vanish when she put it in her mouth.
What he could never escape was the thought of how a poor simple soldier could
have displaced in her breast the entire merits, the full ardour of all her previous
suitors. His heart torn by thoughts such as these, Rinaldo journeyed Eastwards
Here the repetition of the rhyme “parte” reflects the obsessive circling of
Rinaldo’s thoughts. Characteristically, the landscape comes to reflect the
character’s state of mind,37 in this case isolated, dark, and threatening:
The venturesome paladin had penetrated several miles into the woods, far from
all human habitation, where the going was roughest and most dangerous, when
all at once he saw the sky lower, the sun disappear, and out from a dark cave
there issued a strange monster in the shape of a woman.
advised the paladin to be off, taking the road which climbed uphill. Rinaldo did as
bidden and without a backward glance rode hard till he was lost to sight, though
the hill was a steep one to climb.
v. The Goblet
Immediately after his adventure with the “gelide acque,” the lord of
Montalbano encounters another lesser magical artifact. In Cantos 42 and
43 of the Furioso he undergoes the temptation of the magic goblet. This
Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts 75
episode forms part of Ariosto’s commentary on jealousy and fidelity in
this section of the poem. In the Boccaccian stories of the Mantuan knight
and the judge, Ariosto condemns excessive jealousy and harsh judgments
of human weakness.
Rajna found precedents for Ariosto’s goblet in the earlier chivalric lit-
erature, particularly in a cup sent, but never delivered, by Morgan le Fay
to King Arthur with the intention of proving Guinevere an adulteress, a
cup which would have wet the faithless wife rather than the hapless hus-
band.41 Because Ariosto’s goblet spills over the husband instead, it does
not punish the wife for adultery, but makes a mockery of the presumption
of the husband.
Rinaldo is induced to accompany the Mantuan knight by curiosity; “di
vedere e d’udire ebbe / sempre aventure un desiderio innato” (OF 42.72;
“he had an innate urge to witness or hear of any new adventure”). Upon
entering the palace of art he views the statues of Renaissance poets and
the ladies they celebrate. These numerous virtuous ladies would seem to
provide a corrective contrast to the forthcoming passage about the
untrustworthiness of women, but they are not very effective. Rinaldo
pays them little attention, being anxious to learn about the surprise that
awaits him.
Santoro has shown in detail how at first the Mantuan knight seems to
speak from the position of an objective moralist, when in actuality his
speech reflects the dark and suspicious attitude of the betrayed.42 The
revelation of the ten-year duration of his private testings of his guests
proves him to be “in fondo un altro campione della generale ‘pazzia’, un
maniaco malinconico, bisognoso di trovare nella sciagura altrui conforto
come in una droga.”43
Rinaldo resists his first impulse to drink, thinks, and decides to pass up
this opportunity, calling it folly to search for something he wouldn’t want
to find. I agree with Wiggins that Rinaldo’s refusal to drink was made easy
for him by his lack of passion for Clarice,44 and that his “ignorance is
bliss” argument is not the worthiest of reasons.45 But I must also agree
with the general critical approval of his prudence. E.g., for Zatti, Rinaldo’s
untraditional refusal of the test shows an advantageous recognition of the
dangers of the quest for knowledge:
La verità di cui tutti vanno in cerca . . . non la si possiede, o, una volta posseduta
si rivela il contrario di ciò che si credeva; e qualche volta sarebbe meglio non
cercarla affatto, con la saggia prudenza di chi, come Rinaldo, vuol salvare le
proprie illusioni per un necessario esercizio di sopravvivenza.46
76 Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts
Perhaps Rinaldo’s decision is also influenced by acknowledgement of his
own lack of fidelity; beyond his pursuit of Angelica in the Furioso, in the
tradition he was “facile ad innamorarsi, . . . seduttore incorreggibile di
belle fanciulle.”47 A truly faithful lover, such as Brandimarte, might refuse
to drink because it shows more trust not to spy on one’s wife. On this
point the Mantuan knight failed: “Ciascun marito, a mio giudizio, deve /
sempre spiar se la sua donna l’ama” (OF 42.100; “Every husband, in my
view, should always watch to see if his wife loves him”). Such insatiable
distrust is not only a recipe for marital discord; it is the avarice, “ingorda
/ fame d’avere,” which Ariosto condemns in the proem to Canto 43, here
an avarice for control of another person.
In the tale of the goblet’s origin, we learn that it was given in the first
place to the young Mantuan knight in order to persuade him to commit
adultery, the very failing which it reveals. From the start Melissa intended
to break up his peaceful marriage: “modo trovò da por mia pace in rissa”
(OF 43.24; “she found a means to disturb my peace”). The goblet obvi-
ously generates disharmony between people, in confirming the suspicions
of jealous husbands and in bringing distrust to those who had never be-
fore doubted. Rather than punishing adultery, as it might appear at first,
it punishes the presumption of suspicious husbands who demand abso-
lute certainty of absolute virtue from human, imperfect people. Thus the
Mantuan knight suffers through the years afterwards, while his former
wife lives happily ever after.
While at first Rinaldo inculpates only women—“ ogni donna è molle”—
later he admits that men are capable of performing even more serious
crimes for payment (OF 43.48). The judge’s tale shows that men share
the human frailty of desire for wealth. The happy ending of the judge’s
tale may be simplistic, but it points toward the solution; peace and con-
cord between the sexes are possible when each party recognizes that no
human being is perfect and forgives the other’s errors.48
Obsessed by women’s weakness, the Mantuan knight has blinded him-
self to the fact that not all people are faithless. Disguised as his wife’s
suitor, he persuaded her to commit adultery for the sake of jewels pro-
vided by Melissa. But he himself had refused Melissa’s sexual advances,
though she offered him great gifts (OF 43.22). Would the lovestruck Me-
lissa have offered him less than the rubies, diamonds, and emeralds that
overcame his wife’s scruples? Different people have different failings; his
wife’s was for wealth, and his own was for an impossible absolute. In
other parts of the Furioso, Ariosto provides more examples of characters
who remain true to their vows, such as Bradamante, Brandimarte, and
Fiordiligi.
Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts 77
Ariosto’s position is one of moderation: faithfulness is desirable, but
obsessive jealousy is foolhardy, wrong, and destructive of happiness and
harmony. Despite his personal experience with jealousy, he looked on
the human weaknesses we all share with resignation and indulgence.49
Rinaldo’s decision to forgo testing his wife’s fidelity shows, if not on the
character’s part then at least on the poet’s, a “coscienza della relatività e
della fallibilità della natura, del limite posto dall’esperienza ai principi e ai
valori assoluti e astratti.”50
In the Furioso Astolfo, rather than being associated primarily with the
magic lance as in the Innamorato, has to do with a variety of magic
artifacts. Besides the lance, the magic book, and the hippogriff, he is the
sole user of the magic horn that panics all who hear it. As we have seen,
unlike Ruggiero, Astolfo has no moral reservations about using magic.
From the time he departs from Logistilla’s realm until his encounter with
St. John he uses magic in all of his battles. (Thereafter he employs God-
given miraculous advantages.) While Ariosto’s Astolfo is not a humor-
ously inept fighter like Boiardo’s, he is still not notable for his swordplay.
His successes and effectiveness in the Furioso are due instead to his use
of magic and to his own intelligence— or, as St. John informs him, to the
will of God.
He uses the horn extensively. With it he chases away nameless robbers
and wild beasts in his early solitary travels. When warned about Caligorante,
he already hopes “più nel suon che ne la spada” (OF 15.48; “placing
greater reliance on his horn than on his sword”). His confidence in the
horn leads him to argue for a landing on Alessandreta, against the ship’s
more prudent passengers. It is the only weapon he truly feels he needs
when he is lightening the load for the hippogriff. Caligorante, the people
of Alessandreta, the inhabitants of the palace of illusions, and the harpies
all are effortlessly defeated by its magic. The only time it fails him is when
he finds it to be of no use against the smoke in the Inferno. The only
times he refrains from using it are against Orrilo (killed according to the
advice of Logistilla’s book) and during the brawl at Norandino’s tourna-
ment (where he uses the magic lance instead).
With all his magical accoutrements he seldom has great need for ratio-
cination, but he is capable of thinking even under pressure, as when he
defeats Orrilo. He plans ahead, although not elaborately, how to defeat
Caligorante and Orrilo. He recognizes the magic of the palace of illu-
sions, which no other prisoner there was able to do, even Bradamante
78 Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts
who had been warned of the truth. Sometimes all Astolfo needs to figure
out is how best to use his magical weapon, as when he has the Senapo’s
people protect their ears before chasing away the harpies with the horn.
In this he has learned from the experience on Alessandreta when he
inadvertently frightened away his companions as well as his enemies.
Astolfo takes to an extreme the knightly characteristic of seeking out
adventure and battle, because his numerous magical tools add to his tra-
ditional self-confidence. Thus, despite the bystanders’ warnings, he heads
straight down the dangerous paths to Caligorante and Orrilo, and is the
strongest proponent of a landing on Alessandreta. In a knight not re-
nowned for martial skill his actions might seem rash. Yet if he becomes
dependent on his magical equipment, it is not important, because the homo
fortunatus51 will always have some recourse available in an emergency.
His willingness to use magic is probably one reason why the poet
makes him travel abroad and fight mostly against unknightly opponents.
It would not be seemly (or as good a story) for Agramante’s invaders to be
effortlessly routed by magic, with no great feats of swordplay and valor.
While the magical contributions to the eventual Christian victory may be
vital, they nevertheless must leave the foreground to the knights.
Even Astolfo feels the influence of the rules of chivalry to some extent.
During the brawl in Damascus he uses the (unbeknown to him) magic
lance, appropriate to the context of the tourney, rather than the horn. In
Alessandreta he fights beside his companions with a sword against over-
whelming numbers, but only until he realizes that conventional weapons
will achieve nothing but defeat: “Io vo’ veder, poi che non giova spada,
/ s’io so col corno assicurar la strada” (OF 20.87; emphasis mine; “As
our swords are getting us nowhere, let us see if I can’t clear our path
with my horn”). When Astolfo inadvertently uses the horn against his
knightly companions, in a fashion similar to Ruggiero’s accidental victory
against the four knights, it is not Astolfo who is ashamed of the dishonor.
Instead, Marfisa and the others are embarrassed at not having resisted
the irresistible. In contrast to the extreme reaction of Ruggiero, who for-
ever abandons the shield, Astolfo sees it as merely a pardonable mistake.
He learns a practical consideration from the experience, and does better
subsequently.
The horn would seem to have a very chaotic power, particularly con-
sidering the lengthy description of the pandemonium it causes on
Alessandreta. Yet in Astolfo’s hands it serves as a powerful tool to ad-
vance the plot. The horn leaves the forces of disorder in disarray, while
the heroes are freed to pursue the poet’s plan. The horn propels the five
knights from Alessandreta, and the multitude of prisoners from the pal-
Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts 79
ace of illusions, onward to their destinies. And how delightful it is that,
rather than straightforwardly rescuing trapped characters, it humorously
drives them in panic out of their blocked situations. Such strong measures
may be needed in a world where people prefer entrapping illusion to
truth.
vii. Books
Ariosto continues the division of magic books into two types: the spell
books used by sorcerers, and how-to books, represented in the Furioso
by Logistilla’s gift to Astolfo. Ariosto provides four exemplars of spell
books (those owned by the wicked hermit, Melissa, Malagigi, and Atlante).
The lecherous hermit uses his spell book to separate Rinaldo and
Sacripante from Angelica (Canto 2), specifically by sending a disguised
demon to give them false information. Since the hermit is only a minor
sorcerer, it is probable that he uses the book again later when he maddens
Angelica’s horse. The results of his spells are not purely chaotic, but
mixed. In preserving Angelica’s freedom, he contributes to the continuing
dispersal of her questing suitors and of those characters who set out in
search of them. Furthermore, he strengthens the rivalry and enmity be-
tween Rinaldo and Orlando. Nevertheless, the much more direct and
immediate result of the hermit’s deception is Rinaldo’s return to
Charlemagne and his ultimately successful quest for reinforcements. Surely
this happy outcome was unplanned by the hermit. In the Furioso the
chaotic can also act to the detriment of the pagans, whether by random
chance or (as St. John would claim) by God’s will.
All of the hermit’s spells succeed, from the deception of the knights to
the kidnapping of Angelica. However, his most memorable scene is that
of his physical impotence with Angelica. The sense of menace when An-
gelica lies helpless before the vecchio rapace is dissipated by the series
of double entendres, and the hermit’s lasting impression is unquestion-
ably comical.
Ariosto pursues Boiardo’s characterization of the fallible Malagigi. The
most famous example follows the familiar pattern of magnification and
deflation. Malagigi, newly liberated from the Saracens, is explicitly bereft
of his book:
Maugis equalled the best sorcerers in his knowledge of spells, and although he
did not have his book with which he had power to stop the sun, he did recollect
his formula for commanding demons. Quickly he constrained one to enter Doralice’s
palfrey and goad him into a frenzy.
C’est particulièrement vrai pour le livre anti-magie d’Astolphe, dans lequel chaque
manifestation du surnaturel se trouve soigneusement classée, et donc soumise, en
quelque sorte, aux lois d’une organisation rationnelle du monde.52
to prevent his falling victim to magic spells a second time, she gave him a fine,
useful book
La smaccata adulazione credo sia uno scherzo che il comes Boiardo può permettersi
nei confronti del suo principe; tanto che subito lo corregge con un’apparentemente
involontaria gaffe, nobilitata dal modello virgiliano56
Ariosto is not on such easy terms with his Este lords; such open denigra-
tion of an encomiastic work of art would be inconceivable in the Furioso.
Boiardo’s other prophetic work of art is the Cumaean Sybil’s pavilion,
mentioned as a wedding gift to Brandimarte and Fiordelisa in OI 2.27.39
and described in OI 2.27.50– 60. Through her foreknowledge, the Sybil
was able to portray the twelve Alfonsos of the House of Aragon, linked by
marriage to the Este. By chance the pavilion ends up in the hands of
Dolistone, Fiordelisa’s father. Once again these pictures are not under-
stood by the characters in the poem. This time Brandimarte does not
even linger over them, but rushes off to his next battle.
The Furioso contains four prophetic works of art: Merlin’s fountain
with the sculpted scene about avarice, the paintings at the rocca di Tristano,
the statues in the palace of art, and Cassandra’s canopy. These are not of
course the only encomiastic passages in the poem; Melissa’s illusions in
Merlin’s tomb form only one of the significant encomia not connected to
a concrete work of art. Contemporary matters constitute a significant
portion of the poem.57 The amount of praise has prompted criticisms and
defences from various readers.58 The poet’s sincerity in these passages
has also been challenged and defended.59
The avarice fountain was created by Merlin, but not directly; in terms
reflecting the Renaissance attitude toward art, we learn that he had the
fountain sculpted by the “lavor divino” of “buoni artefici.” His motivations
are unknown, both for its construction and its situation in nature, in a
84 Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts
meadow shaded by a mountain, just the spot for a pleasant picnic for
Ruggiero, Marfisa, Ricciardetto, Aldigier, Malagigi, and Viviano. How might
medieval knights comprehend this prophetic, allegorical scene? “In Ariosto,
ecphrastic description is closely linked to the need for interpretation,”60
and fortuitously there is an expert on hand. When Malagigi is prevailed
upon to explain the scenes to the group, he uses predominantly indicative
tenses; and when the narrator takes up the description he continues to
use the indicative, implying that the ecphrasis is trustworthy. The knights
can easily become involved in the art, both at the surface level of slaying
a monster and at the allegorical level of prizing liberality, a chivalric virtue.
Merlin also created the paintings at the rocca di Tristano, in order to
fulfill the commission of the French king, but here he commanded the
paintings done by demons. Unlike the locus amoenus of the avarice foun-
tain, these paintings are housed in a castle, where the custom commemo-
rates and perpetuates the discourtesy for which a jealous prince was
punished. Depicting French battles in Italy, they are explained by the lord
of the castle to Bradamante and Ullania, along with the other inhabitants
of the castle. His discourse also seems highly trustworthy; he employs
mostly indicative tenses, including plentiful repetitions of “vedete,” which
reinforce his narrative with the evidence of the characters’ senses. Even
in the octaves about the generations-long oral tradition which preserved
the understanding of the paintings, where doubt could creep in, all the
indicative verbs give the impression of reliability. Oddly, the viewers, al-
though for the most part French, do not react to all the scenes of defeat
with displeasure; particularly Bradamante is so fascinated by the paint-
ings that she delays her dinner, stays up late, and, most surprising of all,
is distracted from her jealousy of Ruggiero. This could be because art’s
purpose is to delight, so that an unhappy story told in a beautiful way
does not disturb everyday life.61 It is also possible that Bradamante sym-
pathizes with the Italians on account of her Estensi descendants.
The statues in the palace of the Mantuan knight were presumably cre-
ated by the demons who built the palace itself at the bidding of the sor-
cerer who sought to keep his daughter chaste. In a fine display of injus-
tice, the sorcerer blamed the child’s mother for accepting the money that
he had offered, and put a great deal of effort into preventing his daughter
from doing the same thing. The examples of virtuous women were in-
tended to inspire (or shame) the girl to proper behavior, yet they were
ineffective. Moreover, ironically, for ten years they become the scene of
the trials of the magic goblet, all of which accuse women of infidelity.
As Farrell has said so well, “The artistic creations are impressive aes-
thetically, none more so than the palace of art, but it is assigned negative
Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts 85
connotations of coldness, rigidity and sterility due to an excess of arti-
fice.”62 This time the description of the art is pervaded with indications of
doubtfulness. The artist was diligent and learned and the workmanship is
subtle, as opposed to the divine work of the avarice fountain. The use of
the subjunctive suggests that appearances may be deceiving:
Fermava il piè ciascuno di questi segni
sopra due belle imagini più basse,
che con la bocca aperta facean segni
che ’l canto e l’armonia lor dilettasse;
e quell’atto in che son, par che disegni
che l’opra e studio lor tutto lodasse
le belle donne che sugli omeri hanno,
se fosser quei di cu’ in sembianza stanno.
(OF 42.81)
The feet of each one of these statues rested on a pair of beautiful carved figures
depicted open-mouthed, as though happily indulging in melodious song. Their
appearance, as they sang, seemed to convey a total dedication to their task of
praising the fair ladies poised upon their shoulders— they resembled their models
to the life.
Do the poets enjoy praising their ladies? Do these statues accurately rep-
resent the people whom they portray? The ”lunghe ed amplissime scritture“
of the next octave could imply prolixity as well as enthusiasm. Too, Ariosto
acknowledges that the poets do not labor thinking exclusively of the lady,
but at least partly for their own fame: “mostravano ancor poco lontano /
i propri loro [names] in note non oscure.” There is also the fact that only
poets, who on St. John’s authority are suspect, hold up the elaborate
structure of the fountain; and the fact that the narrator only quotes the
inscriptions, detaching himself from what they say.63
Of the four works of art, these statues elicit the least enthusiasm in the
spectator. The knights desire to know the people in the scenes of the
avarice fountain, and urge Malagigi to explain it. At first sight of the paint-
ings in the rocca di Tristano Bradamante is captivated. But the Mantuan
palace seems to leave Rinaldo cold:
Entrò Rinaldo, e voltò gli occhi in giro,
e vide loco il qual si vede raro (OF 42.73)
Rinaldo went in and looked about him. The place he saw was an unusual sight
. . . it does more than this. It represents what is to my mind Ariosto’s ideal art
form: lasting, yet not rigid like the marble structures, prophetic, yet human, ca-
pable of depicting many scenes at once, imitating action and speech, colorful,
bright and gay. To adorn the happy conclusion of his poem, Ariosto has chosen
the opus which most nearly reflects the qualities of his own epic: its variety, color,
movement and, in the end, its essential gaiety. And, of course, the embroidered
canopy is closest in artistic form to the woven tapestry the poet has explicitly
chosen as an image of his work.69
We have seen that Boiardo’s encomia are much less elaborate than
Ariosto’s, much briefer, and in the narrator’s view less significant. Their
appearance late in the poem is indicative of an increasing classical influ-
ence on Boiardo, according to Reichenbach.70 Larivaille explains Boiardo’s
unexpected shift in emphasis from entertainment to encomium as a re-
sponse to the “esigenze celebrative e propagandistiche della dinastia
Ariosto’s Marvelous Artifacts 87
estense.”71 Structurally, the two works of art are bunched closely together,
just before and just after the wedding of Brandimarte and Fiordelisa. It is
notable that the works of art are associated with these two lovers, who
are favored characters of the poet but who are not ancestors of the Este.
They derive no benefit (beyond a brief aesthetic enjoyment) from their
soon-interrupted viewings of the unexplained works of art; they do not
even recognize that they depict the future. Within the world of the poem
these works of art are among the unexplained phenomena which provide
a short-term bella avventura without any apparent deeper purpose.
Ariosto’s encomia cover a wider range of subjects than the Este family
(who are certainly not deprived of praise). His method is more systematic.
He provides pretexts for the creation of two of the works of art; Merlin
made the paintings at the rocca di Tristano at the request of a former king
of France, and Cassandra’s pavilion was a gift to please her brother. All
four of the works of art are viewed by (supposed) blood relatives of the
Este: Ruggiero and Bradamante, and his sister and her kin. They are
admired at length and at leisure. The curiosity of (at least some of) the
observers is satisfied by an expert. Only Rinaldo does not learn the par-
ticulars about the poets and their ladies, as he is at the time more anxious
to learn about the magic goblet. Presumably, Ariosto’s intended audience
would have shown more interest and pleasure in the encomiastic pas-
sages than does the lord of Montalbano.
Chapter Four
Ariosto’s Supernatural Creatures
i. Horses
In the Furioso there are only two supernatural horses, Baiardo and
Rabicano, both inherited from Boiardo, and in addition that “natural”
marvelous steed, the hippogriff. Magical qualities do not automatically
give a horse superiority. More than once Ariosto claims that the two best
horses are Baiardo and Brigliadoro, Orlando’s non-magical steed (e.g. OF
9.60 and 23.26). Along with Ruggiero’s non-magical Frontino, these four
would win all of the horse shows in Charlemagne’s era.
Beyond an excellent warhorse’s required characteristics of strength,
agility, speed, and endurance, Baiardo’s special quality is his human-level
intelligence. Chiampi finds Baiardo to be the only character in Canto 1
explicitly endowed with intelligence, memory, and the moral virtue of
fidelity.1 On the other hand, Petersen points out that “proprio perché in
possesso di ‘intelletto umano’ è indotto in errore.”2 In the first two cantos
Baiardo is the cause of several humorous scenes as he outmaneuvers
humans. The reader’s first view of Rinaldo in the poem finds him in the
strange position of a horseman running on foot. His situation begins to
seem ridiculous when we learn that he is chasing his horse, and even
more so when he addresses Baiardo in the language of a pastoral lover:
“Ferma, Baiardo mio, deh, ferma il piede! / che l’esser senza te troppo mi
90 Ariosto’s Supernatural Creatures
nuoce” (OF 1.32; “‘Stop, Bayard, oh stop! I cannot endure to be without
you.’”). In fact, Baiardo is helpfully leading Rinaldo to his beloved An-
gelica. When Baiardo reaches Angelica, what ensues is practically a love
scene between the horse and the princess, who ironically feels more be-
nevolence toward him than toward all of her suitors:
Then he meekly approached the damsel; he was almost human in his gesture of
humility, like a dog dancing around his master who has just returned after a few
days’ absence. Bayard still remembered her, for she had tended him in Albracca
in the days when she was so enamoured of Rinaldo, who was so cruel to her then,
so unresponding to her love. / She took his reins in her left hand, and with the
other hand she caressed his neck and chest. The horse, who was of remarkable
intelligence, submitted to her as meekly as a lamb.
It may have been a real bird, but I don’t know where or when there ever was
another like it; I have never seen such a beast, nor ever read of one— except in the
pages of Turpin. This leads me to believe that the bird was an infernal spirit
raised in that shape by Maugis in order to interrupt the battle. / Rinaldo believed
as much, and later gave Maugis a piece of his mind. His cousin, however, would
not confess to it but, to clear himself, swore by the Light which lights the sun that
this was not to be imputed to him.
92 Ariosto’s Supernatural Creatures
This moment of uncertainty from the usually omniscient narrator and the
reference to the supposed source, Turpin, point up the absolutely ficti-
tious nature of the monster, and the complete control of the poet over his
literary world.
If the responsibility for this monster’s intervention truly were Malagigi’s,
it would be an example of miscalculation, since Baiardo ends up in
Gradasso’s hands. Ironically, Rinaldo, the paragon of prudence in the
poem, now suffers a disadvantage owing to a fine example of prudent
reasoning on Gradasso’s part; he will betray the pact he made with Rinaldo
to bring the horse back to the site of their duel. Since Gradasso has
already obtained Durindana, the acquisition of Baiardo fulfills his desires
and he begins his homeward journey. Baiardo has been so affrighted by
the monster that he does not resist Gradasso, and thus is his steed during
the battle at Lipadusa. There we learn that his loyalty is personal rather
than religious, as he gives the king of Sericana an initial advantage against
the Christian knights (OF 41.69).
The other supernatural horse is Boiardo’s creation, Rabicano. Magi-
cally conceived of fire and air, Rabicano needs no pasturage, for he sur-
vives on air alone. In the Furioso he carries Ruggiero briefly, then Astolfo
and Bradamante. He does not have a large part in the poem, with his
distinction as the fastest steed of all being taken over by the hippogriff.
The hippogriff is so rich an invention that it has given rise to a variety
of interpretations: to Marinelli it represents the flesh;4 to Giamatti one’s
intellective part.5 Farrell, Wise, Hauvette, and Welles,6 while using differ-
ent terminology, all agree that it symbolizes the type of creative imagina-
tion used by the poet. This interpretation seems likeliest over the course
of the poem, considering the hippogriff’s literary links to Pegasus, a sym-
bol of poetic inspiration, and the rider’s overview of the world similar to
that of the poet. Yet Ariosto’s allegories shift meanings; just as the magic
ring does not always represent reason, when Ruggiero loses the hippogriff
it seems to stand for libidinous passion. In any case the vital point is the
rider’s (in)ability to control the winged steed.
The hippogriff, in Ariosto’s characteristic fashion, is introduced not as
the marvelous creature that it is, but in a tone that suggests it is unexcep-
tional and normal.7 Pinabello relates: “e ritrovai presso a Rodonna armato
/ un che frenava un gran destriero alato” (OF 2.37; “and near Rodonna I
came upon an armed man reining in a great winged steed”). Pinabello’s
use of the verb “ritrovai” makes it sound as if this were a casual encoun-
ter.8 Next Pinabello characterizes Atlante as a thief, rather than as a sor-
cerer or as the knight with the remarkable steed, for instance. Struck
Ariosto’s Supernatural Creatures 93
principally by the loss of his lady, Pinabello pays more attention to the
hippogriff’s rider than to the flying horse itself. In the following similes, it
is Atlante, not the hippogriff, who is compared to a falcon and a kite:
like a falcon dropping on his prey he was down and away in an instant, reaching
out and grasping her as he went. . . . Thus the rapacious kite will carry off a
luckless chick from its mother’s side, and she too late laments her inattention,
and in vain runs crying and clucking after it. I could not pursue a man on the
wing . . .
Atlante is portrayed here as a man who flies; Pinabello has barely noticed
the hippogriff, although one would expect a multi-colored winged steed
to be eye-catching. In his account of the battle with Gradasso and Ruggiero,
Pinabello continues to attribute the power of flight to the rider rather than
to the steed: “ad alto il negromante batte l’ale” (OF 2.49; “to such a
height did the magician wing his way”). This insistence on the actions of
the rider make plain his mastery of the hippogriff; it is just an extension of
his will. Soon the reader will be able to contrast Ruggiero’s complete
inability to control the winged steed.
The “grido di meraviglia” at such an exceptional sight is postponed
until the hippogriff’s second appearance:
Suddenly a great din reached their ears. ‘Glorious Mother!’ cried the damsel,
‘God in Heaven, what can this be?’ And where the noise was, there, in a mo-
ment, was she. / Here she found the innkeeper with all his family and many
others at their windows and yet more out in the street, all looking up at the sky as
though there were a comet or eclipse. She witnessed a prodigious sight, one
which would not be readily believed: a great winged horse was passing through
the sky, with an armed man mounted upon him. / Broad were his wings and of
unusual hue; and between them sat a horseman clad in bright polished armour.
He was holding his course straight to the Westward . . .
The horse was no figment— he was real, begotten by a gryphon out of a mare. He
had his father’s wings and feathers, his forefeet, his head and beak; in all else he
took after his mother. He was known as a hippogryph
There are numerous parallels here with the situation in the Furioso,
though Ariosto elaborates the adventure at much greater length. Ruggiero
too falls into Atlante’s trap by mounting the hippogriff, which is still under
the sorcerer’s control. Ariosto adds the telling details of the general chase
of the hippogriff by all the released knights, and the hippogriff’s tantaliz-
ing of them by fleeing only so far. Although Ruggiero hides it well, he too
finds the ride frightening (OF 6.17). Soon he falls under Alcina’s spell and
joins the fay’s revels. He is rescued by a sorceress who places the magic
ring on his finger, immediately annulling the spell. He too leaves against
the will of his partner in the revels, Alcina.
Control of the hippogriff is the vital consideration. This point is brought
up in the relation of the hippogriff’s capture:
And she gave him to hope that the next day she would take out the hippogryph
and help Ruggiero to learn little by little how to control him and make him go
anywhere.
Already Melissa tells him that the first lesson must be to restrain the
hippogriff, and only then to direct its flight. The school of course is
Logistilla’s palace, where, in contrast to Ruggiero’s wearisome progress,
Melissa and Astolfo fly directly and easily. Melissa has no difficulty control-
ling the hippogriff, and Astolfo is privileged to take the fast and easy route
with her.
Logistilla attempts to teach Ruggiero how to control the hippogriff.
The first thing to do is to make a new bit for him: Logistilla “vuol che se
gli faccia un morso” (OF 10.66; “orders the construction of a bit”12). The
self-disciplined Melissa was able to use the physical bit made by Atlante,
but Ruggiero needs a new one, i.e. since mastery of the hippogriff is self-
mastery, he needs to learn the necessary discipline. Yet the verb here is
both passive and subjunctive, leaving the questions: Who makes the bit?
Ruggiero, Logistilla, or someone else? Implying that Ruggiero did not
make his own bit, the poet is already laying the foundations for Ruggiero’s
later failure. (It is not until much later that the reader learns for certain
who made the bit: “Logistilla fe’ il lavoro / del freno”; OF 22.24; “Logistilla
had subsequently elaborated a bridle for this beast”). Does the bit actually
get made to specifications? Very soon, by the end of the same canto, we
learn that Ruggiero’s control over himself is only superficial. The speed
Ariosto’s Supernatural Creatures 97
with which Ruggiero learns to control the hippogriff is also suspect; it
took Atlante himself close to a month to master the steed. In confirmation
of Ruggiero’s loss of self-control with Angelica, the reader sees that his
control over the hippogriff is no greater, as it immediately slips its bit and
flies away. Ruggiero has been a poor student.
The hippogriff returns to Atlante, the one who had truly mastered it,
and is found by Astolfo after the destruction of the palace of illusions.
Astolfo “ben vide e notò” during Ruggiero’s lessons, so well in fact that he
is able to make a bit for the flying steed. This is actually a creative act,
since he knows that not just any bit will do:
he contrived, out of a number of bridles, one that would control him: the sturdy
bridles of the horses which had fled were hung up there.
One of the marine flock of Proteus, the sea monster carries out the god’s
prolonged revenge on the people of Ebuda. As Giamatti has written, in
the Furioso Proteus is a lawbreaker whose actions lead to a collapse of
law and society on Ebuda such that the Ebudans themselves degenerate
from civilization to barbarism.16 The sea monster comes to represent the
criminal lust that led Proteus to rape the daughter of the king of Ebuda.
The execution of the god’s blameless victim results in the perpetual reen-
actment of this crime as the sea monster consumes beautiful women
through the years. Embracing their punishment by instituting an unjust
law of their own, the islanders cooperate in the breakdown of their own
society and threaten other societies as they resort to piracy to find sacri-
fices for the sea monster. These offenses against civilization eventually
lead to their own destruction by the victims of their piracy.
The sea monster is practically a force of nature, with all the power of
the ocean, which for Ariosto is so often unpredictable and dangerous.
Ariosto’s Supernatural Creatures 99
The monster’s first appearance strongly contrasts with the statuesque,
artistic and immobile beauty of Angelica chained to the rock. Four times
it is called measureless (OF 10.94, 100, 109; 11.44), a key word to the
Renaissance admirers of proportion and balance. It is also wild (OF 10.102)
and formless:
a beast I can only describe as a great coiling, twisting mass, quite unlike an
animal in shape, except for its head
It is so huge and powerful that it can set the elements in confusion, mak-
ing the sky like the ocean (OF 10.106). Against Orlando the sea monster
appears as an extension of the ocean:
Now it was that he heard the sea groan, . . . the waves swelled up and forth
emerged the monster, breasting half the sea.
if I wear plastron and coat of mail, it is not to win myself land or silver, but simply
to serve and prosper others
Despite his correct interpretation of Erifilla’s nature, he lets the two la-
dies’ beauty deceive him. They prevent him from killing Erifilla, and lead
him off to Alcina. The final solution to Avarice must await the valorous
nobles of the Cinquecento, as we learn in the episode of the fountain of
Avarice (OF 26.30– 53).
Ariosto’s Supernatural Creatures 101
The harpies perform their traditional task of starving a king, but now
at the command of God: Classical monsters in a Christian setting. Their
punishment of il Senapo serves to introduce Astolfo’s religious adven-
tures, in preparation for his divine mission to cure Orlando. The mood
cannot remain solemn for too long; Astolfo is able to drive away these
divine agents in a comical manner, with the magic horn. They lead him to
Hell, and, after his brief visit, he blocks up the entrance with a hedge of
sticks so that the harpies will be unable to exit— at least until God sends
them again in the form of the foreign invaders of Renaissance Italy, forse
to punish Italian sins (OF 34.1– 3).
Villains
In contrast to Boiardo’s fabulous world, the Furioso contains a paucity of
supernatural villains waiting to pounce on unsuspecting characters and
provide adventures for valiant knights. In contrast to Boiardo’s omnipres-
ent giants, the Furioso’s minor giants are reduced to one allegorical, one
pagan, and one historical: Erifilla/Avarice (OF 6.78); Marbalusto the king
of Oran, who is not even a full giant (“quasi era gigante,” OF 14.17;
“esser gigante accenna,” OF 14.108); and an anonymous giant defeated
by Tristan (OF 32.84). The three villains with extended episodes—
Caligorante, Orrilo, and the blind ogre— were all inherited from Boiardo.
Yet Ariosto makes them his own, treating them in a fashion different from
Boiardo’s.
With Caligorante Ariosto had the freest hand, for this villain appeared
in the Innamorato only as a nameless giant captured by an unknown
knight (OI 3.3.21). Ariosto creates Caligorante to oppose Astolfo not
long after the knight’s disembarkation in the Middle East. The fortunate
paladin receives a detailed warning about Caligorante from a traveling
hermit. In a bloody prefiguring of Rodomonte’s more chivalric trophies
(OF 29.34), the cannibalistic giant decorates his house with human skins
to commemorate his more valorous victims. Yet he does not meet them
in battle, but customarily hides a net in the sand and “con tai gridi i
peregrin minaccia, / che spaventati dentro ve li caccia” (OF 15.44; “He
threatens travellers with such yells that he drives them terrified onto the
net”). Forewarned as to Caligorante’s habitual strategy, Astolfo can pre-
pare to counter it. In an ironic reversal, it is the giant who is so terrified by
the sound of the magic horn that he runs into his own net.
While Caligorante belongs to the world of fables, Ariosto does not let
the occasion pass to make a Classical reference. The net, the narrator
relates, has a long and illustrious history since its fabrication by Vulcan. In
102 Ariosto’s Supernatural Creatures
a passage showing scant veneration of the Olympians, we learn that it
was designed for the humiliation of gods, stolen by Mercury and long
treasured in an Egyptian temple, until it was stolen again and reduced to
Caligorante’s bloody purposes. Both here and when Proteus and the other
marine deities fled from Orlando, Ariosto shows his mastery over the
Greek gods; “the gods [are] his slaves— rhetorical figures which he has
pulled from his bag of literary tricks.”21 Astolfo leaves the net in better
hands but in no more reverent a fashion; he gives it to Sansonetto, along
with Caligorante, in exchange for a sword belt and spurs that may have
belonged to St. George.
Astolfo is all set to kill Caligorante when he reflects on the inglorious-
ness of the deed. Realizing that Caligorante, “ch’era tornato uman più
che donzella” (OF 15.60; “the giant had become gentler than a maiden”),
could be useful, he decides not to waste his great strength and instead
makes him a servant. Not that he incautiously trusts the giant’s apparent
reversal; he maintains the prudent precaution of having him guarded at
night (OF 15.77). This reasoning is characteristic of Astolfo’s pragmatic
approach to his magical equipment; in contrast to Ruggiero’s scruples,
the English knight uses whatever tool will serve his purpose. Free, the
giant was an enemy of civilization and promoter of disorder, but with his
dangerous ferocity muted by the fear of death, his great strength ends up
serving law and order.
Orilo was introduced in the Innamorato22 specifically to block the ad-
vancement of the plot. That is, the white and black fays hoped to prevent
or at least delay the fated deaths of their protégés, Grifone and Aquilante,
much as Atlante desired for Ruggiero. Fighting the unkillable Orilo, the
two knights reached an impasse that held them safely in limbo from the
third canto of the third book of the Innamorato all the way to Canto 15
of the Furioso— in other words, for one day.
Ariosto adds to the presentation of Orrilo the suggestion that, rather
than simply sending the knights against an opportune opponent, the fays
may actually control the villain:
Orrilo retired to his lair— for the white fairy and her sister in black were pleased to
defer the grim battle
Ariosto’s Supernatural Creatures 103
The fays provide pleasant hospitality to the three knights, who agree that
Astolfo may undertake the battle alone the following day. Thanks to
Logistilla’s book, Astolfo knows Orrilo’s secret weakness: severing a cer-
tain one of his hairs will kill him. Acting as an agent of Providence,
Astolfo is able promptly to remove the obstacle to the plot provided by
Orrilo. The disgruntled fays are unable to prevent Grifone and Aquilante
from deciding to return immediately to France, the site of their fated and
imminent deaths (OF 15.91). Yet the brothers themselves now take up
the deferral of their destiny, as in the very next octave the three knights
decide to take a roundabout route, where their course will be diverted by
Orrigille for a time.
The blind ogre of the Furioso is significantly changed from that of the
Innamorato. In his study of this monster, Baldan notes that Ariosto makes
significant changes in the ogre’s physical appearance— including an en-
larged nose, the elimination of the throat-crop, and the replacement of
horizontal bulk with greater height— as one sign of his ideological differ-
ences from the earlier author.23 Furthermore, in his retelling of Lucina’s
adventure, Ariosto, primarily concerned with bringing the ogre closer to
the Classical Polyphemus, makes such changes to the plot that it can
hardly be called the same episode. In the Innamorato Lucina alone is
captured, and the ogre lives alone and eats only human flesh. In Ariosto’s
version of the tale an entire shipful of people are captured with Lucina,
the more cultured ogre is married and keeps women captives, and he
herds sheep for when there are no people around to eat.24 The previously
absent Norandino emerges to take the spotlight as a Ulyssean hero. Per-
meated with Classical references, the relation of the tale of Norandino’s
adventures takes place amid the festive atmosphere of Damascus, which
strongly contrasts with the concurrent battle of Paris. The happy reunion
of the devoted lovers, Norandino and Lucina, also contrasts with the ill-
fated love of Grifone for the treacherous Orrigille.
All three of these villains are in varying degrees harmful to and con-
temptuous of human society, as witnessed by the common thread of
cannibalism. Caligorante is the farthest-removed, both literally and figura-
tively, from society. He lives in uninhabited lands in a “solitaria casa [. . .]
/ d’umanitade e di commercio priva” (OF 15.49; “the lone house, a place
devoid of humanity or normal human commerce”), flaunting his grisly
decorations, and interested in people only as prey. While he ends up
serving society, it is in the lowly position of a beast of burden.
Chapter Five
Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic
Fays
The fays of the Furioso are not numerous, but two of them are vitally
important. Following the Boiardan example of Morgana/Ventura, Ariosto
allegorizes Alcina and Logistilla to further the education of Ruggiero. My
third section deals with the fays who have minor roles in the poem: the
black and white fays, and Manto.
i. Alcina
Hares and rabbits were to be espied hopping among the deep-red roses and
white lilies which a temperate breeze kept ever fresh; and deer, holding high their
splendid heads, roamed about, stooping to crop the grass, quite unafraid that any
might slay or capture them. Fawns and nimble goats skipped deftly— many was
their number in these rustic parts.
Intensely though he loved fair Bradamant, she was here and now wrested from his
heart, for by magic Alcina erased all trace of the pangs with which up till now his
soul was smitten. She alone became the unique burden of his love, she alone was
now engraved upon his heart. Good Ruggiero must be forgiven, then, for this
show of inconstancy.
Off in the distance stood a wall which curved away, embracing a vast stretch of
land; it was so high, its top seemed to merge with the heavens, and it looked as if
it were solid gold from summit to foot. (There are some who part company with
me here and maintain that it is an effect of alchemy; they may know better than
I, but, again, they may be quite mistaken. To me it looks like gold, the way it
gleams.)
In this episode concerned with the difference between essence and ap-
pearance, this octave is filled with indications of doubtfulness: three forms
of parere, two verbs in the subjunctive, and the mention of other possi-
bilities. This is not the voice of the omniscient narrator, but the fallible
narrator’s echo of Ruggiero’s conclusion. The view of the palace from up
close elicits the following remark: “O vero o falso ch’all’occhio risponda,
/ non è cosa più bella o più gioconda” (OF 6.71; “Whether they pre-
sented a true or false image to the eye, there was nothing like them for
grace and felicity”). Once again the accent is on the surface appearance
and leaves strong doubts about the reality of the objects (and, in fact,
Alcina’s works vanish like illusions when Melissa destroys the fay’s im-
ages, seals, knots, rhombs and spirals).
110 Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic
Ruggiero willingly participates in his deception out of the same desire
for illusion manifested by the prisoners of Atlante’s steel castle who re-
gretted their freedom from it. He allows himself to be led to Alcina despite
being warned, and when he meets Alcina he joins in creating his own
illusion of a virtuous Alcina maligned by the envious Astolfo. But eventu-
ally Melissa points out to him that in this paradise of guiltless pleasure
there can be no accomplishments, no progress. In Donato’s words, “Alcina
represents desire’s fixation upon a singular object and its incapacity to
detach itself from it; essentially it is a moment of stasis.”10 Or in Giamatti’s
words, “a life based on illusion . . . is . . . a futile and empty existence.””1
Yet even Melissa’s reprimand and the revelation of Alcina’s true form
cannot cancel out the dreamlike pleasure of the time spent with her, when
she fulfilled all of her lover’s desires. Astolfo himself, who has gained such
great wisdom from his hard experience with Alcina, thinks of the period
of his favor as a good time (“perché l’avuto ben vo rimembrando”; OF
6.49; “Why must I recollect the good that was”). Rejected and reviled,
defeated, powerless, despairing— nevertheless Alcina cannot die. Ariosto
knows that desires are an ineradicable part of being human.12
ii. Logistilla
After a struggle and with help, Ruggiero eventually reaches the realm of
Alcina’s half sister, Logistilla, the rightful ruler of the island. The good fay
of reason and virtue acts in the Furioso for a much briefer and less memo-
rable time than her illegitimate, usurping half sister. Much less developed
as a character than Alcina, Logistilla’s allegorical import takes precedence
over her characterization. She is described only morally, not physically;
the reader’s image of her is more abstract than concrete.
The reader first learns of her as the rightful ruler of the whole island,
whose kingdom has been usurped by her evil half sisters Alcina and
Morgana. This division of the island enacts the internal division of the
individual, with the passions running wild and practically driving out the
reasoning faculty.13 The evil sisters have already captured more than one
hundred of her castles and she remains beset, much as the narrator occa-
sionally gives the impression of his own embattled sanity.
The virtuous Logistilla’s realm of reason is superior to Alcina’s do-
main. Alcina’s works based on magical trickery can be dispelled easily and
without leaving a trace, but Logistilla’s garden is the result of hard work,
which is more durable. Alcina, who blinds people to the truth, has walls
that seem to be gold, while Logistilla’s gemmed walls are more valuable
Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic 111
than if they were diamonds, because they provide the clear vision of self-
knowledge. Alcina’s eternal springtime was illusionary (“par ch’ognor rida
il grazioso aprile”; OF 6.74; “soft April, presenting a serene and merry
face, seemed constantly to smile”), while Logistilla’s is real (OF 10.63).
Yet there are indications that Logistilla’s answer is not the definitive
solution to human problems either. Alcina’s garden is full of people, las-
civious women and courtiers, but though the beauty of Logistilla’s gar-
dens is praised, no one is portrayed enjoying it. The pleasures of the
good fay’s gardens seem to be solitary ones. Logistilla can truly stop the
seasons in a lasting way, but it is still not natural:
Here, though, every thing remained verdant green; the flowers bloomed in per-
petual radiance, not through any beneficent working of Nature, but through the
studious care of Logistilla: with no need to depend upon the climate (impossible
though this would seem to anyone else), she maintained perennial spring in her
garden.
Not only the restriction of the natural change of seasons but the fact that
they are hanging gardens removes them from the sphere of the natural. A
perpetual springtime is not possible in real life, and such trees and flowers
as she cultivates do not grow elsewhere than in her gardens. Here reason
controls nature and the result is beautiful, but not so beautiful that the
knights wish to remain.
Logistilla’s lessons are not religious, but secular; it is the cardinal vir-
tues who live in her realm, not the theological ones. Her lessons are self-
knowledge, revealed by the gems in the walls, and self-restraint, exempli-
fied by bridling the hippogriff. Yet the study and care, the constant hard
work that she must devote to her gardens contrasts with her expeditious
teaching of Ruggiero, who apparently masters the hippogriff/himself very
quickly and easily, only to fail as soon as he returns to Europe. The love of
Logistilla/virtue is supposed to result in the contentment of every desire
at the mere sight of her, but very soon, within a few days, all the knights
wish to leave. They were glad to stay with Alcina until she tired of them,
112 Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic
but they find Logistilla’s realm less desirable than their old homes. It
seems likely that, as Welles suggests, the mirrored walls make them un-
comfortable by constantly reminding them of their shortcomings.14 In
Ariosto’s view, people are not ready for a life of reason and self-control,
not to work toward it and not even to accept it when it is offered to them.
Such absolute control and lack of spontaneity is not appropriate to hu-
mans, who need quests and challenges and passions to make life worth-
while; Alcina cannot die. The knights find it far easier to depart from the
self-restrained rule of reason than from unrestrained self-indulgence.
Logistilla’s most lasting effect through the course of the poem is the
result of her influence on Astolfo. The English knight is her best student,
retaining a contemplative detachment15 that serves him well, freeing him
until the Cinque canti from the passions that distract everyone else. It is
due to her teachings that he is able eventually to ride the hippogriff to the
terrestrial paradise. Moreover, his use of her magical gifts brings her back
to mind periodically. Through Astolfo, Logistilla contributes to the even-
tual triumph of the forces of good.
Alcina is a proponent of disorder, favoring passion over reason, dis-
tracting knights from their duties, and hindering progress toward the poet’s
desired outcome. Logistilla is definitely a creature of order and as such
supports the advancement of the plot both by returning the knights to the
real world and through her magical gifts to Astolfo. Nevertheless it is clear
that for Ariosto reason and order are not perfectly synonymous with good.
It is possible to have too much of a good thing. While reason ought to be
in control, the passions also have their place and make life worthwhile.
Like Atlante, the white and black fays have knowledge of the future and
compassion for certain knights, specifically Grifone and Aquilante. Since
the two knights’ birth, the white fay has protected Grifone and the black
fay has protected Aquilante. In order to prevent their protégés’ return to
France, where they are fated to die, the fays initiate the battle against
Orrilo, “con speme di tenerli tanto a bada, / che la trista influenza se ne
vada” (OF 15.89; “in the hope of delaying them here long enough to
avoid the pernicious effects”). However, they are less powerful and per-
sistent than Atlante. When the agent of destiny, Astolfo, kills Orrilo, they
are unable to do anything but regret the failure of their plan.
The last fay of the Furioso appears in the judge’s tale in Canto 43. In
Manto Ariosto links the Classical world with the world of romance. Tak-
ing advantage of the association of fays with serpents,16 Ariosto turns the
Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic 113
Theban seeress and supposed founder of Mantova into a fay by recalling
her descent from the dragon’s teeth sown by Cadmus. It is because of his
own descent from the dragon’s teeth that Adonio protects the fay in
serpentine form from the villano. Seven years later his courteous deed is
rewarded, as out of considerations of both kinship and gratitude Manto
aids Adonio’s amorous pursuit of Argia. The adultery that Manto pro-
motes would seem to be an element of social disorder, but the fay there-
after saves Argia’s life and helps her reattain marital harmony:
Manto’s reciprocity seems part of a larger system than courtly duty and reward:
although she aids and abets adultery, she does so not out of injured vanity and
spite, like Melissa, but out of a tenacious sense of gratitude. Her assistance finally
works in favor of the marriage-bond, while modifying its strictly patriarchal struc-
ture.17
Sorcerers
Sorcerers, like the other characters, vary in their abilities and intentions.
They range from charlatans like Alfeo to major magicians like Atlante,
from a lascivious hermit to those dedicated to furthering God’s will (Mer-
lin and Melissa). Although Renaissance Hermetic thought would attribute
a higher level of existence to the magus, along with his mastery of nature,
the human sorcerers of the Furioso are by no means essentially superior
to other human beings. Indeed most of the sorcerers employ demons, the
type of magic condemned by Ficino and Pico; however this does not
depend on which side they support, and has little relevance to their moral
state. Malagigi and Melissa are on the right side, God and the poet’s side,
notwithstanding their use of “black” magic. Sorcerers remain all too hu-
man and fallible, and in general are not more successful in their plans
than knights and ladies.
My first section concerns Atlante and his struggle to protect Ruggiero.
Then I discuss Merlin and Melissa, the two promoters of the fateful union
of Ruggiero and Bradamante, followed by the minor sorcerers.
i. Atlante
Early I fed you on the marrow of bears and lions; I accustomed you as a child to
strangle snakes in grottoes and wild ravines, to disarm the clawing panthers and
tigers and draw the tusks off live boars
he still recalled how frequently Atlas had commended this Hippolytus among his
descendants.
Nevertheless, when Ruggiero is grown and the time has come for him to
achieve his destiny, Atlante’s paternal affection causes him to oppose the
goals for which he had prepared Ruggiero. The sticking point is solely
Ruggiero’s early death. Ariosto focuses Atlante’s attention on this per-
sonal aspect of the tragedy, leaving aside Africa’s loss of the knight’s
progeny, which had been of additional concern to Boiardo’s Atalante.
Atlante’s struggles to avert Ruggiero’s fate are understandable, but
misguided. He is so blinded by superchio amore that he comes to value
the merely physical good above the spiritual. He sacrifices considerations
Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic 115
of honor and virtue in a futile attempt to protect Ruggiero from inevitable
death, ignoring the fact that a life without risk or spiritual values is incom-
plete. Yet his own early teachings stressing honor and accomplishment
win in the end.
Incidents of absolute good or evil are few in Ariosto’s poem. Atlante’s
magical traps are blind alleys or dead ends that delay the rightful progres-
sion of the plot; nevertheless, they are not completely negative. Many of
the characters trapped in them prefer them to the outside world. In the
steel palace Atlante takes care to provide his captives with every pleasure
except freedom. When the castle vanishes, the poet suggests that only
the women prisoners regret their newfound liberty:
The Alcina episode, however, shows that men share this human weak-
ness of a desire for a paradise of escape from duty. Even Astolfo, who has
learned better and despises the fay, remembers his time with Alcina as
being good.
The palace of illusions is an even more powerful and subtle trap. It is
no longer a pleasant experience, but one “con passione e con fatica molta,
/ ma temperata pur d’alta speranza” (OF 12.16; “in desperation but with
hope renewed”). Unlike the steel palace, inescapable to anyone lacking
the power of flight, and Alcina’s realm, where the fay and her guards
restrained her subjects, the prisoners can walk out the door of the palace
of illusions any time they choose. It is the hope of acquiring the object of
their desire that keeps them running around in their futile chase.
Seeking to protect Ruggiero from the personal chaos of death, Atlante
first creates in the steel palace a trap that seems like a bastion of order
and culture in the midst of a hostile universe:
‘For six days I travelled, morning and evening, amid weird jagged crags and out-
crops, with never a beaten path nor any sign of human traces. Then I came to a
stark, grim valley hemmed in with cliffs and horrid caves and in the middle, on a
rock, there rose a mighty castle, well seated and of remarkable beauty.
Outside the steel palace are many dangers and frightful sights which the
castle’s strength and inaccessible location keep at bay. Inside, the inhabit-
ants spend their time on civilized and courtly pursuits, such as music,
games, fine food, and clothing. This haven of culture, however, turns out
to be quite fragile, vanishing into nothingness with the victory of the
harsh outside world. The prisoners are released, gladly or unwillingly,
back into the chaos of real life.
Atlante’s second snare, Alcina’s realm, once again has the trappings of
chivalric order, but chaotic elements have crept in. Alcina rules queenlike
over her obedient subjects, amid general prosperity, with everyone pursu-
ing courtly activities like dancing, games, merrymaking, singing, hawk-
ing, hunting, and courtship. It is the excess of this last, counter to the
tenets of courtly love, which has caused a breakdown in morality and
manners, causing the lascive donzelle to seem less beautiful than they
could be. The destruction of this realm is more difficult, since Melissa
must break many spells while Alcina is distracted by Ruggiero’s flight, but
no less complete.
With his most powerful trap, the palace of illusions, Atlante creates a
reflection of the chaos of life. The entrapped knights endlessly follow the
circular motion of the quests that they had followed outside.19 Their eter-
nally frustrated search is inescapable because they are propelled by the
hope of attaining their dearest desire. As in life, they cannot forsake the
quest because they cannot forsake the desire which is so much a part of
life. Despite Melissa’s warning, Bradamante cannot deny her emotions in
order to kill the illusionary Ruggiero or even to realize that she is caught
in an enchantment. Yet even this citadel cannot endure forever against
the pressure of reality and the poet’s will. Appropriately enough, Astolfo,
Fortune’s favorite, arrives at the castle as the result of a fortuna at sea.
Only Astolfo, who has most nearly escaped from passions, can see clearly
enough to recognize the trap and resolve this dilemma. Making use of
that other basic human emotion, fear, Astolfo clears the palace and at his
leisure reduces it to smoke and fog.
Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic 117
This third defeat leads to Atlante’s death in despair from heartbreak.
Although he gives up his struggle and surrenders to the inevitability of
fate, he neither regrets his past actions nor stops caring for Ruggiero. The
sorcerer’s ghost attributes his final surrender to Ruggiero’s desire to attain
his glorious destiny (“né ostare al fin potendo alla tua voglia”; OF 36.64;
“unable in the end to oppose your will”). He finally accepts Ruggiero’s
decision and abandons his own futile quest, realizing that his own desire
is unattainable. Speaking from his tomb, his words are as truthful and as
helpful as those of Merlin. Finally Atlante comes to serve the will of Provi-
dence, setting the stage for Marfisa’s conversion and ending Bradamante’s
jealous madness so that she will reconcile with Ruggiero.
The Arthurian sorcerer Merlin appears only briefly in the Furioso, but his
presence is felt again and again due to his influence on Melissa and to his
remaining works of art. All that remains of Merlin in Charlemagne’s day is
a living spirit and a living voice, speaking from his tomb. He is a poet
figure; Ariosto may well have expected and desired to achieve this sort of
immortality, wherein his voice still puts forth his message long after his
body has died.
Merlin has an element of the chaotic in his background (in the form of
his demon father), but he subordinates his powers to the will of God,
seeking to promote the divine order. His prophetic knowledge prepares
him and Melissa when the voler divino sends Bradamante to his cave for
the revelation of God’s plan and help in fulfilling it. Merlin gives Bradamante
information about the future and encouragement to help Ruggiero, but
leaves the practical advice to Melissa.
Neither alive nor dead, Merlin is unable to act during the poem, but in
the past he was an important creator. Furthermore, his creations are not
the easily-dispelled constructions of most sorcerers, but are durable works
of art that last through centuries. His fountain of disamore is still there to
cure Rinaldo’s madness in Canto 42. The fountain of avarice and the
paintings at the Rocca di Tristano, through Merlin’s prophetic ability,
serve to link the poem’s story with history.
Merlin’s most powerful influence on the actions of the poem is through
his agent Melissa. Being alive, she is still capable of acting and also of
making mistakes. Melissa has been characterized as a passionless figure
interested only in duty.20 It is true that she is not passionate about a lover,
a horse, a magical item, or any of the usual objects of desire. However,
the encouragement of Ruggiero and Bradamante’s marriage is not a duty
118 Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic
imposed on her, but a project she freely undertakes. Since she is not
obligated in any way to help the lovers, she must feel strongly about the
matter in order to devote so much time and effort to it. In fact,
Melissa . . . was most anxious to see Bradamant and Ruggiero united in the bonds
of matrimony.
Melissa has fallen in love not with an individual but with the glory of the
Estensi. When she learned about them from Merlin’s predictions, she
changed her own plans in order to meet Bradamante, and she persists in
her new project when she realizes how much help the two will need. She
has been prudent enough (or fortunate enough) to desire an event de-
creed by God and the poet, and so she emerges as the most successful
sorcerer of the poem.
Melissa is very goal-directed. She gives her constant attention to the
lovers’ affairs:
She was so concerned with the fortunes of both that she wanted hourly news of
them; therefore she always kept in touch with them by means of spirit-messen-
gers: as one spirit returned another was dispatched.
Melissa is not only willing to use deceit or fraude, but is firmly con-
vinced of its necessity in some cases. In this, she acts in accordance with
the pronouncements of Ariosto, given in the magnificent exordium of
Canto 4:
Deceit is an important survival skill in the world of the Furioso and Mel-
issa tries to teach it to Bradamante and Ruggiero.
Melissa is ruthless in the pursuit of her goal. In her own period of
amorous madness she was willing to break up the Mantuan knight’s happy
marriage for her own selfish desires, and twice she urges Bradamante to
kill. It seems clear that this is not such a desirable characteristic, however,
since the noble Bradamante refuses to learn this lesson. She spares
Brunello’s and Atlante’s lives at the steel palace out of considerations of
honor and mercy, and is understandably unable to strike the image of her
beloved Ruggiero.
Since Melissa is so focused on her goal, she tends to emphasize the
eventual good and discount the cost of achieving it. She advises
Bradamante regarding the Estensi conspirators: “Statti col dolce in bocca,
e non ti doglia / ch’amareggiare al fin non te la voglia” (OF 3.62; “leave
with a sweet taste in your mouth, and do not complain if I refuse to turn
it to bitterness”). This quotation applies also to her most important omis-
sion: she passes over the fact that Ruggiero will die young after fulfilling
his destiny.21 While her reticence may seem (and be) an indication of cold
calculation, it is less a matter of deliberate deception and more that she
concentrates on the sweet instead of the bitter. Moreover, in the end her
omission does not matter; the lovers are not left unaware of the situation.
Ruggiero knew and accepted his fate in the Innamorato, while Bradamante
learns of it from Atlante at the steel palace. Since both of them continue
on their chosen course, both must believe that the goal is worth the price.
In an extension of her willingness to use dubious means toward her
ends, Melissa employs demons, showing that it is possible to harness evil
in the service of good (as Astolfo also does with Caligorante). Whether
she directs demons in a pageant, or rides them as steeds, or sends them
to fetch a family heirloom, Melissa remains in complete control (unlike
Malagigi) so that they cannot counteract her wishes. She brings these
creatures of chaos and evil into line with the divine order.
120 Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic
Despite Melissa’s self control and calculating nature, she is not immune
to the gentler emotions. While she probably looks back on her love for the
Mantuan knight as an error, she feels affection for Bradamante (“non
senza alquanto lagrimare, / si dipartì l’una da l’altra donna”; OF 3.75;
“the two women took leave of each other, not without tears”). She truly
desires what she considers to be best for Ruggiero: a virtuous, honorable,
and glorious mortal life, and the immortality provided by fame and de-
scendants.
Melissa is human and fallible. During her period of amorous madness
she let her passions lead her from the path of reason and righteousness,
but learned better thereafter. She is not necessarily the most powerful of
sorcerers. For instance, she needs the ring in order to break Alcina’s
spells. Nor does she confront Alcina or Atlante in a straightforward test of
power; rather, she undermines their enchantments at their weak points.
Her foresight is not perfect. She promises to bring Ruggiero back from
Alcina’s island to Bradamante in only a few days, when in the end Ruggiero
takes months to return to Europe. And she is mistaken when she warns
that Bradamante will remain forever without Ruggiero if she fails to slay
the illusion of him. She does not allow for the fact that God has more
agents than just herself.
Yet she accomplishes a great deal. It is due to her advice that Bradamante
is able to destroy the steel palace. It is her actions alone that break Alcina’s
power, that interrupt the potentially disastrous duel between Ruggiero
and Rinaldo, and that save Ruggiero from suicidal despair. After many
setbacks, Melissa is the only sorcerer to achieve her goal, because she
chose a goal desired by both God and Ariosto.
Malagigi may be on the side of the angels, but he is certainly one of the
more fallible characters in the Furioso, as he was in the Innamorato. The
first reference to him in the poem (OF 11.4) recalls his defeat by Angelica
at the start of the Innamorato. At his first appearance he and his brother
Viviano are in need of rescue from their pagan captors. At this point
readers of the Innamorato will remember that the two got into this fix
because Malagise had believed his horde of demons could prevail against
the knightly virtù of Rodamonte and Feraguto.
In the Furioso, Malagigi’s attempts to help the Christian forces are still
plagued by failure and uncertainty. The best known example is that of
Doralice’s horse in Canto 26. Under pressure Malagigi succeeds in pro-
Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic 121
tecting his cousin Ricciardetto from Rodomonte by sending a demon to
drive off Doralice’s horse. Unfortunately, the sorcerer’s lack of forethought
allows the treacherous demon to turn the situation to the disadvantage of
the Christians, leading to a defeat in battle for Charlemagne. Later, when
Rinaldo leads reinforcements, including Malagigi, to Charlemagne, the
indefinite “alcun” and the prevalence of the subjunctive show that Malagigi’s
helpful participation is doubtful:
It has been suggested that Maugis had a share in that night’s victory, not that he
sprinkled the land with blood or smashed any skulls, but that by magic spells he
coaxed the infernal angels from the caverns of hell, with so many lances and
banners that two Frances could not have assembled so many; / and that he
provoked such an uproar of trumpets and drums and assorted noises, such whin-
nying of horses, such cries and clamour of footsoldiers that the plains, moun-
tains, and valleys must have re-echoed for miles around. With this he gave the
Moors such a fright that he routed them.
Certainly one need not look as far as a supernatural explanation for the
frightening vision of banners, lances, and enemy soldiers, and the con-
fused uproar; one would expect these factors in a surprise night attack.
Moreover the pagans’ flight had already been explained in much more
definite terms:
Not one in the pagan host was so brave that his hair did not stand on end when
he heard the grim watchwords ‘Rinaldo’ and ‘Montauban’ ring out. Africans and
Spaniards turned tail without stopping to load their baggage: still smarting from
having earlier sampled his fury, they were in no hurry to renew the experience.
Who was more anxious and dubious than any of them about this combat was
Maugis; gladly would he have interfered to make it miscarry, but he did not want
to antagonize Rinaldo any further— he had still not forgiven him for breaking up
the earlier fight by spiriting him onto the boat.
Up came Maugis, now, to wreak prompt vengeance for his brother, but he was so
hasty in his closing that he afforded Vivian company sooner than revenge.
Nor does Malagigi learn from this experience, for later he is eager to joust
with Guidon Selvaggio, and is saved from another defeat only by Rinaldo’s
impatience. Boiardo had been slightly kinder to Malagise, not giving him
foolish pretensions of knightly skill at arms, and his humiliating capture by
Angelica at least did not occur in public.
Malagigi’s only privileged moments are encomiastic. Unlike Boiardo,
Ariosto endows Malagigi with magical foreknowledge in order to explain
Merlin’s fountain of avarice in Canto 26, and to glorify Ferrara when
Rinaldo passes through the site in Canto 43. Yet even in these two pas-
sages Malagigi’s privilege is not absolute. Malagigi did not create the foun-
tain, only share his expert knowledge. The Ferrara passage is very brief,
and Malagigi is present only in memory. His magical knowledge can also
have a dispersive effect, as when his information leads Rinaldo away from
France in search of Angelica.
Malagigi’s heart is in the right place, but his ineffectiveness makes him
as often harmful as helpful to his own side. His lack of care allows the
demon to lead Doralice’s horse to the benefit of the pagans, and he di-
rects Rinaldo toward Cathay when the paladin is still needed in Europe. If
Malagigi sent the winged monster in Canto 33, then it is another mistake
and he is responsible for Gradasso’s acquisition of Baiardo and thus this
pagan’s initial advantage at Lipadusa. Malagigi does not contribute to the
orderly advance of the plot.
Another minor sorcerer is the hermit, or rather the cauto negromante,
who encounters Angelica in the second canto. He gives an initial impres-
sion of trustworthiness. The poet emphasizes this appearance, first when
Angelica meets him, and later, with more comic effect, when the pirates
discover them:
So they [the pirates] came upon this, the flower of feminine beauty and grace,
lying clasped in the venerable father’s arms.
Miracle-Workers
Miracles are different in concept from magic in that they are the result of
the direct intervention of God in human affairs. Religious miracles are
characteristic of the Carolingian epic cycle as opposed to the magic of
sorcerers and supernatural creatures typical of the Arthurian cycle. Yet in
the world of the Furioso miracles are not always privileged over enchant-
Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic 125
ment. Indeed “[m]iracles are treated in the same spirit as magic.”22 The
workers of miracles, favored by the grace of God, remain human and
imperfect— even the archangel Michael; and, in this case, even the miracles
are less a cause for wonderment and faith than doubt and skepticism.
From a discussion of Michael and the personifications, I proceed to
study the saintly hermit who converts Ruggiero, and the chapter con-
cludes with St. John’s teachings to Astolfo on the moon.
i. Michael et al.
The Michael episode begins when God Himself, in response to the prayers
of Carlo and the Parisians, is portrayed giving the orders for the first set
of miracles to the archangel. The Bontà ineffabile is treated with digni-
fied language, but along with the angels is anthropomorphized23 into a
courtly image. This heavenly sovereign and His courtiers lack any mysti-
cal transcendence.
As soon as the focus shifts from God to Michael, Ariosto’s restraint
from humor begins to relax. The angel has not even left God’s side when
he is disrespectfully termed “il benedetto augel” (OF 14.77). During his
descent to earth the reader learns that omniscient God could have better
prepared the confused angel by telling him Silence’s location. Michael’s
naiveté is revealed when he seeks Silence in the cloister. The verses “Ma
da la opinion sua ritrovosse / tosto ingannato” (OF 14.80; “he had only
to land in the cloister to be cured of his delusion”) recall that constant of
the world of the Furioso: “ecco il giudicio uman come spesso erra!” By
this test the angel is as human as any of the knights in the forest. The
passage may have started out as the miraculous intervention of God, but
at this point the already ironic treatment of Michael gives way to full-
fledged anti-clerical satire.
Michael’s further appearances continue to show him in an ironic and
unfavorable light, as he overconfidently relaxes his vigilance until the Chris-
tians are defeated in battle in Canto 27 against God’s stated intentions.
The comparison of Michael with a forgetful servant who rushes to repair
the damages before the master should notice, and his undignified beating
of Discord, show even more blatantly the fallibility of the supposedly su-
pernatural angel. Michael’s ineffectiveness casts doubts back on God,
who chose him for this mission.24
The personifications with whom Michael deals, Discord, Fraud, and
Silence, remain abstractions and have been criticized as frozen,25 although
Ariosto attempts to render them more concrete by giving details of their
126 Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic
physical appearance.26 This lifelessness results partly from the constant
contrast of the abstract personifications with the verisimilar emotions and
motivations of the human characters. As De Sanctis notes, despite the
apparatus of supernatural forces, everything in the Furioso admits of a
natural explanation.27 Discord’s first project in Canto 18 shows the super-
fluity of the personifications; the quarrel between Rodomonte and
Mandricardo had already been prepared, and would have developed quite
naturally without the intervention of the personifications. As the quarrels
multiply in the same natural fashion at the fountain of avarice, the reader
has plenty of time to forget about Discord’s supposed participation; the
poet’s after-the-fact reminder of her influence does nothing but highlight
her artificiality. Likewise, the return of Discord in Canto 27 coincides
with the aftermath of the pagan victory, which the disputants had previ-
ously agreed would signal the end of their truces.
Thus in this episode the supernatural powers of both angels and per-
sonifications are shown to be anything but miraculous. It is all Michael
can do to accomplish what seemed to be a simple task, and the God who
sent him does not have Ariosto’s omnipotence in the world of the poem.
The influence of Michael and of the personifications is so undetectable as
to remain discounted by the reader, and is never noticed by the characters:
Here Michael moved the brave squadrons and so curtailed their route that a single
day’s journey brought them to Paris, without any of them realizing the miracle
which had been wrought.
The one time that God appears in the poem, His orders lead to unin-
tended results, and remain completely unnoticed by the humans involved.
God obtains more impressive results elsewhere in the poem without su-
pernatural intermediaries, as in the case of Ruggiero’s long-awaited con-
version. However, even this action— utterly necessary to the plot, foretold
and desired since Ruggiero’s introduction in the Innamorato, and the
source of so much future glory to Ferrara— is not without a few pinpricks
of imperfection.
Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic 127
The hero is in the process of sailing to rejoin Agramante in Africa with
the seven Saracen kings whom he has rescued, when their ship is caught
in a ferocious storm. The poet attributes to this storm the moral vices of
perfidy and treachery: “Ne l’oscurar del giorno fece il vento / chiara la sua
perfidia e ’l tradimento” (OF 41.8; “It was at dusk that the wind revealed
its perfidy”). The description of the storm is full of negative judgements:
“orribil procella,” “furor,” “fortuna fella,” “rabbia,” “crudele e spaventoso
assalto,” “il fiero vento” (twice), “il crudo vento e la tempesta ria.” The
poet elaborates at length on the terror and desperation of the unfortu-
nate sailors as their efforts are overwhelmed by the fury of the elements.
Prayers do not help them:
Anguished cries to heaven for help could now be heard, but the voices did not
endure for long: the seething waters surged in spitefully
not far from there, he said, there lived a hermit on an isolated rock. No one ever
had recourse to him in voin, [sic] be it for advice or assistance. He could achieve
miracles: he could give sight to the blind, raise the dead to life, stop the wind with
a sign of the cross, calm the sea at its angriest.
While this octave treats of the hermit’s amazing deeds, the tone could not
be more even and placid. Thus the poet transforms these magnificent
miracles into ordinary if uncommon occurrences. It is the second inci-
dence of the marvelous, following the pattern noted by Almansi,28 that is
Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic 129
accompanied by a “grido di meraviglia,” although this is less impressive
than the previously mentioned feats:
The devout old hermit was a gentle presence among those warriors; he prayed
and encouraged them to avoid contamination but to aim to pass unspotted through
130 Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic
this mortal vale known as life, in which fools so delight, but to keep their eyes
steadfastly on the paths to heaven.
Yet in the very next octave the hermit gives up his virtuous forty-year diet
of fruit and water to share the knights’ savory meal of meat and good
wine; it is more difficult to resist and despise the snares of this world
when they are right in front of you.
Astolfo has traveled on the hippogriff from the site of Atlante’s palace of
illusions through France, Spain, and northern Africa with no other goal
than sightseeing, when his religious voyage begins in Prester John’s realm
of Ethiopia. Since the knight’s improbable arrival on a winged horse ful-
fills a prophecy of salvation, the blind emperor could be excused for tak-
ing him for a supernatural personage, were it not for his impious sugges-
tions. Astolfo’s humility in response to Prester John’s extravagant and
sacrilegious offers shows that though he has mastered Logistilla’s secular
teaching, he knows its limits. Even at this early point, before St. John
confirms it, he is willing to believe that God has guided him.
Comparing Astolfo’s restraint here with his vanity and braggadocio in
the earlier tradition helps to point out why Astolfo is chosen to take the
voyage to the moon and to cure Orlando. The English knight has learned
from his past mistakes and from Logistilla, and throughout the poem he
proves resistant to all forms of insanity, keeping his head and firmly bri-
dling his passions (so firmly that it is not always evident that he has any).
His mental balance and flexibility have led to his successes against evil
and to his removal of a series of obstacles to God’s plan. Although his
lucido intervallo will end in the Cinque canti with his fall back to the
common level of humanity, in the Furioso he travels highest of all the
characters.
Astolfo’s voyages give insights into Ariosto’s views on fame, Ippolito
d’Este, and literature. Fame was in general highly valued in the Renais-
sance inasmuch as it provided a sort of immortality. Unfortunately, last-
ing fame is not easy to achieve. Fame is the very first item on the list of the
contents of the lunar valley, where already time is the culprit: “Molta fama
è là su, che, come tarlo, / il tempo al lungo andar qua giù divora” (OF
34.74; “there is many a reputation up there which, little by little, time has
consumed down here like a moth”). The situation is elaborated a little
later with the allegory of Time and the Fates. Time casts famous names
into the river of oblivion, from which crows, vultures, etc. (flatterers,
Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic 131
poetasters), can rescue them only briefly. The secure placement of one’s
name in the temple of immortality is possible but dependent on the ef-
forts of swans (great poets), who are few. Thus the only way to enduring
fame is through literature.
Astolfo’s observation of the three Fates provides an opportunity for
encomium, which Ariosto duly takes when Astolfo views the life’s thread
of Cardinal Ippolito d’Este. Yet this praise is rather cold. Farrell notes its
brevity and many terms of artifice, concluding that St. John is forced to
praise Ippolito when he would rather not.29 Quint finds the passage’s
literary model (Seneca’s praise of Nero) to be an indication by Ariosto
that it contains similarly wildly untrue flattery.30
Furthermore, the praise of Ippolito is embedded in a context that, to
say it mildly, casts doubt on its validity. It follows not long after a disillu-
sioned vision of courtly obsequiousness in the valley of lost things:
Ami d’oro e d’argento appresso vede
in una massa, ch’erano quei doni
che si fan con speranza di mercede
ai re, agli avari principi, ai patroni.
Vede in ghirlande ascosi lacci; e chiede,
ed ode che son tutte adulazioni.
Di cicale scoppiate imagine hanno
versi ch’in laude dei signor si fanno. (OF 34.77)
Next he saw a heap of gold and silver hooks: gifts made in hope of reward to
kings, to greedy princes, to patrons. He asked about garlands he saw which
concealed a noose: all flattery, he was told, verses written in praise of patrons
wore the guise of exploded crickets.
All three parts of this octave are relevant to the Orlando furioso (with the
possible exception of verse 5’s hidden snares of sinister ulterior motives;
Ariosto does not hide his all-but-abandoned hopes of tangible reward,
which seem more reasonable than sinister). At the beginning of the poem
Ariosto dedicated it as a gift to his patron Ippolito (OF 1.3), and many of
the encomiastic passages could easily be characterized as adulatory. That
the poet was not properly rewarded for his efforts to immortalize the
cardinal is made clear in the first Satire:
If I have praised him in my verses, he says I have done so to please myself and at
my leisure; better if I had been at hand to wait upon him.31
Shortly after the praise of Ippolito comes St. John’s cheerful admission
that poets will lie about their patrons for gain. The denunciation of foolish
lords who undervalue poetry in OF 35.23– 24 corresponds much too
closely to the true situation to be ignored.32 When St. John begins to
name names, he includes Aeneas, one of Ruggiero’s literary models, and
Hector, Ruggiero’s ancestor (and hence, theoretically, Ippolito’s) as being
far less than their poets have claimed.33 The subsequent reference to
Seneca’s ungrateful patron Nero (OF 35.26), besides supporting Quint’s
interpretation, suggests a parallel with Ippolito’s situation in posterity;
they will be remembered as undeserving of the extravagant praise of their
poets, since neither one “gli scrittor sapea tenersi amici.” And perhaps
the shade of Ippolito would agree with Lidia that even infamy is better
than obscurity.
St. John’s speech about literature is one of the most problematic pas-
sages in the poem, giving rise to debates as to how seriously one should
take it. The saint’s inculpation of writers, including himself, casts doubt
on the trustworthiness and authority of all texts, putting even the Bible
on the level of fiction. As various critics have written, this does not neces-
sarily mean that Scripture is false or that Ariosto believed it to be false.
Santoro exempts St. John from doubt, seeing him as a model of abso-
lutely true poetry projected toward the eternal, in opposition to that po-
etry by and for humans.34 Or, God could have put the truth in the Bible
whether or not his human agents were trustworthy, or the human au-
thors could have written it in good faith no matter what Ariosto’s charac-
ter said. Ariosto implicated his own poem in the charge of lying, so the
reader cannot trust him as an absolute authority either. Ariosto (and St.
John too; see the “saggio riso” in OF 35.30) knew that readers would not
simply follow the saint’s advice to believe the opposite of everything ever
written; all texts cannot possibly be lies,35 and the exact opposite of the
truth at that. If even the personification of Fraud can tell the truth (OF
14.88– 90), then there is still hope for literature. Ariosto’s goal was more
likely to encourage the reader to “sift and consider.”36
Religion continues to be non-transcendent even in the otherworldly
realms, sanctioning the equivalence of the divine miraculous with the
mundane magical. Astolfo, despite his elevated status and proper rever-
Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic 133
ence for the divine, is not primarily concerned with religious matters; he
is content to concentrate on worldly virtue and knightly deeds. His visit to
hell is motivated not by any desire for spiritual enlightenment, but by the
same keen interest in exploration that has brought the knight to Africa in
the first place. The language is the same when he discovers the hippogriff
and later when he decides to see hell and the earthly paradise:
No piece of fortune could have made Astolfo happier than this, for the hippogryph
was the very thing for him if he wanted to explore land and sea as he did— those
he had yet to visit— and girdle the earth in a few days.
He decided to go in and look at those who had lost the light of day, and penetrate
to the heart of the place and inspect the ravines of hell.
Then he mounted his flying horse and rose into the air to reach the summit of the
mountain, for it was generally believed that the orb of the moon stood not far
from its highest peak. His urge to explore directed his aspirations heavenwards,
spurning the earth.
The knight lowers Satan and the other infernal beings to the level of evil
magicians and monsters, such as he is accustomed to putting to flight
with one blast of the magic horn (OF 34.5). The garden of the earthly
paradise appeals to the five senses, so much so that Astolfo can excuse
Adam and Eve for tasting the forbidden fruit. Yet it has less moral signifi-
cance than Logistilla’s garden, cultivated with hard work and containing
the gems of self-knowledge.
The moon itself, as Quint has shown, is not the repository of higher
meaning, as it ought to be.37 In order to teach, the significance of the
lunar allegories should be clear to the viewer. However, the allegories of
134 Ariosto’s Practitioners of Magic
the lunar junkpile, based on Alberti’s Somnium,38 would be incompre-
hensible, not only to Astolfo but also to the reader, without the saint’s
explanation.
The topos of magic permeates both the Innamorato and the Furioso.
Inherited from the Classical, Arthurian, and popular traditions, magic takes
many forms and serves various purposes in the poems. Boiardo’s fabu-
lous poetic world is completely inconceivable without magic, without en-
chantresses, monsters, and giants to test the heroes at every turn. This
world is rich not only in the “ordinary” magic, such as giants and weap-
ons, but also in magical phenomena which provoke meraviglia, such as
the vividly-described monsters which briefly seize the poet’s attention.
Even in Ariosto’s more rational, Classicizing world, magic is an important
structural component and necessary to the poem’s unity. Magic is one of
the vital threads in the tapestry of the Furioso, as indispensable as women
or horses or knights. Without the shield or the horn the complex plot
would be unraveled as surely as if Angelica were removed.
Magic in the two poems acts as a vehicle for the Renaissance dialectic
between fortuna and virtù. Magic is not all-powerful in the two poems; it
is subject to the vagaries of fortune, and can be overcome by human
efforts, whether intellectual or physical, or by opposing magic. A magical
trial may be won strictly by virtù (e.g. Morgana’s trials of the horn and
Orlando’s killing of the sea monster) or strictly by opposing magic without
need for valor (e.g. Dragontina’s defeat by Angelica’s ring and Ruggiero’s
victory over the sea monster). Boiardo, in the more optimistic early Re-
naissance, tends to emphasize human abilities; the simple fact that he
presents magical trials intended to test a knight’s prowess points to his
faith that human persistence and skill can overcome seemingly overwhelm-
ing adversities. In the Furioso this theme emerges in Orlando’s victories
against the harquebus and the sea monster, and in the need for control in
relation to the hippogriff and other steeds. Yet in both poems it often
requires a combination of factors to achieve victory. The magical Balisarda
is as necessary to Orlando’s destruction of Falerina’s garden as is the
138 Conclusion
anti-magical book, which the knight only possessed due to the lucky chance
of meeting the lady messenger; yet he must wield the sword with skill and
temper the book’s defeatism with his wits before he can complete his
victory. Bradamante needs a certain amount of physical strength to cap-
ture Atlante, but she could never have gotten close enough without the
ring’s anti-magical protection, her own acting ability, and Melissa’s magi-
cally-gained knowledge and advice. In general Ariosto’s characters have
less chance to win through sheer force of character and arms than
Boiardo’s, and more need of supplemental aid, magical or otherwise.
The contrast of magic with virtù derives from magic’s association with
the chaotic, with chance, and with the irrational. As such it is often the
cause of delays in the advancement of the plot toward a conclusion.
In the Innamorato magic artifacts, barring enchanted armaments which
lack overt magical powers, have dispersive and obstructive effects— unless
they have an anti-magical function (such as Merlin’s fountain of disamore,
the ring’s spell-breaking power, the how-to books). Ariosto’s magic arti-
facts tend to follow this precedent, with, however, important exceptions.
The effects of the lance, the shield, and the horn are beneficial to
Providence’s plan. These examples show that it is possible to harness the
chaotic to the service of order. Controlled by Atlante, the shield contrib-
utes to the imprisonment of knights at the steel palace, but used by
Ruggiero, even reluctantly, it furthers the advancement of the plot. If
Ruggiero had determined to keep control and employ it wisely, who knows
what he could have accomplished? Yet the detachment from ordinary life
that Astolfo finds necessary to control magic would have been inappropri-
ate for the founder of the Este dynasty. The lance partakes less of the
chaotic than other magic artifacts, since it conveys a Providential protec-
tion to two privileged characters who in the main use it wisely. The horn,
a gift of Logistilla/Reason, is borne only by the wise Astolfo and used for
God’s purposes. St. John later suggests that Astolfo received it by Divine
will; thus there are good reasons why its effects are helpful. It is a power-
ful image of chaos under control.
Supernatural creatures have the same tendency to obstruct the plot. In
both poems horses carry the theme of the need for control, in order to
curb their natural tendency to run away with their riders. Magical mon-
sters and villains both hinder the knight’s progress and give him a chance
to prove his valor.
It is in this category that the differences between Boiardo and Ariosto
show up most clearly. Even considering nothing else, Boiardo’s super-
natural creatures are vastly more numerous. From magic steeds to marvel-
Conclusion 139
ous bulls, from giants to Orilo, the world of the Innamorato constantly
produces new marvels that briefly take over the character’s, the narrator’s,
and the reader’s attention. While some of them appear in allegorical epi-
sodes, the majority of them have mainly the purpose of the meraviglia
and diletto of the single episode. By contrast, Ariosto’s supernatural crea-
tures are few and most of them were inherited from Boiardo. This does
not preclude his invention of the poetically powerful hippogriff and sea
monster, each of which serves multiple purposes. Ariosto’s magic has a
more intellectual flavor; his world has plenty of practitioners of magic and
objects magically constructed, but lacks the lively magic of Boiardo’s world,
which naturally produces magic in abundance.
In the Innamorato all the practitioners of magic hinder the plot, even
the Christian sorcerer Malagise. By imprisonment or by death or by dis-
placement, the sorcerers delay and distract knights. Ariosto, on the other
hand, presents some sorcerers as powerful forces for order, as well as
those who perform the traditional delaying tactics. Magic, the chaotic,
can be used for good purposes, just as Melissa teaches that deception can
be. However, like the knight with his horse, the sorcerer must practice
control— the control that Logistilla tries to teach Ruggiero, the control
necessary to master oneself and magic. Otherwise the slippery force of
magic will treacherously turn against the sorcerer, as it does for Malagigi.
In Ariosto’s world control may be extremely difficult and rare, but it is
possible, at least for a “lucido intervallo.”
This contrast of order and chaos is not a clear black and white, good
and evil, positive vs. negative opposition for either author. In Boiardo’s
poem the disruptive effect of magic is not seen as strongly negative, since
his march toward an eventual conclusion is much less committed than
Ariosto’s. Duty has less urgency in Boiardo’s world; the adventures that
temporarily distract the characters from their goals are just as important
as the adventures necessary to achieve those goals. Magic is a source of
meraviglia, diletto, and avventura, which help make life worthwhile.
Misura is superior to dismisura, but, as Boiardo’s treatment of the magic
waters shows, rational order is not paramount. The dispersive motifs of
love, adventure, and magic are necessary parts of a life lived fully, as
necessary as duty and reason.
In the Furioso the association of magic with chance and chaos is con-
trasted much more strongly with a positive concept of order, reason,
harmony, Providence. For Ariosto delays are more significant since every-
thing is being orchestrated toward a definite and harmonious conclusion.
Delaying the advancement of the plot is tantamount to wandering from
140 Conclusion
God’s and the poet’s well-defined plan. Still, Ariosto’s ideal is not so
simplistic, static, and oppressive as the complete subjugation of the irra-
tional, but rather a harmony with variety.1 He knows that Alcina cannot
die, that people have a need for quests and risks and the irrational. God
himself decrees that the hippogriff should be freed, because Ariosto knows
that one cannot dictate to one’s fantasy or inspiration, only rein it in.
Privileged moments can be achieved, but only briefly. Despite the tri-
umph of civilization and harmony at the end of the poem, it is clearly only
a “lucido intervallo.” Conflict will return as soon as the Cinque canti.
Ruggiero will be treacherously killed only for the cycle to repeat, when
Bradamante and Marfisa restore a temporary harmony by avenging him,
until eventually the golden age of Cinquecento Ferrara will arrive, only to
be plagued by contemporary “barbari.”
Notes
Introduction
1 Delcorno Branca, Il Romanzo 39; and Pettinelli, L’immaginario 53.
2 L’Orlando 85–86.
3 Stagioni 52.
4 De Rachewiltz 196–97.
5 Compromising 18.
6 48 and 52.
7 Zampese 268.
8 Saccone, “Cloridano” 83.
9 Le fonti dell’Orlando furioso.
10 Rajna, Le fonti 24.
11 Welles 19.
12 Delcorno Branca, Il romanzo 2.
13 Bacchelli 36–37.
14 Davis 102. Also Robinson 118.
15 L’Orlando 271.
16 Scaglione, Knights 265.
17 For example, OI 2.21.37–38.
18 Storia 2: 30. Bellamy agrees (“Alcina’s” 63).
19 Gardner, The King 271; Tomalin, The Fortunes 94. Scaglione points out that
ironic treatment was already a characteristic of preceding chivalric literature; Knights
269. For Zatti, Ariosto’s irony “è uno strumento conoscitivo” (Il Furioso 11).
142 Notes
20 Piromalli, La cultura 80.
21 Griffiths 28.
22 Parker identifies endlessness as an important characteristic of the romance in
Inescapable Romance. Quint agrees: “[A] romance narrative . . . is open-ended
and potentially endless” (“The Boat” 179).
23 Giamatti, Earthly 52– 62. Also di Tommaso, “Boiardo/Ariosto” 84.
24 “Struttura” 282.
25 That he felt such a temptation is shown by the existence of the Cinque canti.
26 Quint, “Figure.”
Chapter One
1 L’ Orlando furioso, ch. 3.
2 L’ Orlando furioso 84. Henri Hauvette sees magic armaments as representing the
character’s superlative strength and endurance (223).
3 Il Furioso 69.
4 Delcorno Branca, L’Orlando furioso 58.
5 Il Furioso 79.
6 Quotations of the Furioso are taken from the Garzanti edition. I use Guido
Waldman’s translation, except where otherwise noted.
7 Curiously, this significant advantage is not seen as unfair.
8 While for the purposes of my analysis I hold to this distinction in terms between
“magic” and “enchanted,” the poets themselves did not. Although they were
aware of the essential difference of the two types of magic weapons, they used
fatato, incantato, and magico as synonyms.
9 My quotations of the Innamorato are taken from the bilingual edition translated
by Ross, which uses the Italian text edited by Aldo Scaglione.
10 According to Antonio Franceschetti, Boiardo adhered for the most part to the
traditional tone because he intended to conform to the tradition, not to reject or
parody it; L’Orlando innamorato 34. Pettinelli believes he used traditional stylistic
and lexical forms because he was most concerned with the smooth flow of the
narration; Immaginario 128.
11 This abandonment causes an interesting concatenation of events in the
Innamorato. When Marfisa again felt the need of armor she took Brandimarte’s,
whereupon he took the armor of the dead Agricane, which was then enchanted
for him by the grateful fay Febosilla.
Notes 143
12 Delcorno Branca, L’Orlando furioso 89.
13 Except those objects which have anti-magical effects, as I will discuss below.
14 Reichenbach, L’Orlando innamorato 18.
15 Delcorno Branca, “Il cavaliere” 356.
16 Admittedly, Ariosto may not always be a trustworthy interpreter of Boiardo. In
“Denying Closure” Cavallo argues that Ariosto begins his plot before the events
in the Innamorato’s Book 3. Franceschetti studies some of Ariosto’s modifica-
tions of Boiardo’s tale in “Il Boiardo”, concluding at one point that Ariosto “non
si fa scrupolo di rovesciare totalmente i valori celebrati nel mondo dell’Innamorato”
(120).
17 Following Mario Santoro’s thesis, this is one of the instances where Ariosto rec-
ognizes the homo fortunatus, the man successful solely through the favor of
fortune, in his treatment of the character of Astolfo (Letture 179).
18 In fact, in both poems the treatment of the ring follows the same gender differen-
tial; the spell-breaking power may be used by either gender, but usually for the
benefit of men, while the power of invisibility is used exclusively by women for
their own convenience and safety. See my Chapter 2.
19 179.
20 Almansi 178. Although his article is about Ariosto, he extends his thesis to in-
clude Boiardo on page 192.
21 132– 3.
22 Baldan, “Un orco folklorico” 343. Roger Baillet also speaks of Ariosto’s efforts to
rationalize the material (306– 7).
23 For example, Valeria Finucci, The Lady Vanishes 110; and Mario Santoro,
“L’Angelica del Furioso” 4– 7.
24 112.
25 L’Orlando 61.
26 Boiardo’s 74– 78.
27 Franceschetti, L’Orlando 144; and Saccone, Il ‘soggetto’ 101. Reichenbach,
however, disagrees, seeing the characters as not deeply affected by the magically
inspired emotions, which lack the psychological content of their natural feelings
(L’Orlando 107– 8). For Ponte this magical love or hate is not prepared psycho-
logically (“troppo subitaneo è il mutamento”), and the episode of the waters is an
aesthetic failure; “Le fontane” 390.
28 Translations of the Amorum libri are taken from the bilingual edition translated
by di Tommaso.
144 Notes
29 Cavallo sees this exaltation of love as ironic and as negated by the adventure it
introduces, where Orlando’s success in destroying Falerina’s garden is due to his
resisting seduction attempts (Boiardo’s 17).
30 Other critics have a more pessimistic understanding of Boiardo’s view of love. For
example, Giamatti sees Boiardo’s final attitude as a recognition of the futility of
trying to check human passions, which must in any case exist in order to animate
life (Exile 62). Cavallo’s reading emphasizes the destructive effects of allowing
passion to overcome reason (Boiardo’s 121– 22).
31 Welles 106.
32 “[T]he boat of romance, in its purest form, has no other destination than the
adventure at hand. . . . the boat’s travels describe a romance narrative that is
open-ended and potentially endless.” Quint, “The Boat” 179.
33 Nohrnberg 45.
34 Quint reads Boiardo’s episode as a reference to Cleopatra’s flight from Actium
(Epic 30– 36). Looney argues that Boiardo’s imitation of Vergil is “an occasion for
his own meditation on the generic implications of different narrative structures”
(Compromising 79– 90).
35 In fact, Cavallo sees them as important opportunities for Boiardo to demonstrate
through Ranaldo the superior morality of the Grail knight’s caritas, compared to
the various forms of eros which he encounters (Boiardo’s Ch. 5– 8).
36 Literature and art are of course important topics in the poems. Cavallo sees one
of the major points of the Innamorato as a discussion of “the tenets and possibili-
ties of the humanist idea of character formation through didactic literature”
(Boiardo’s 3). Likewise, Ascoli recognizes that “interpretive reading itself is a, if
not the, theme of the Renaissance and of the Furioso” (44). For studies of liter-
ary/artistic allusions in the Furioso, see Ascoli (especially Ch. 3), Giamatti
“Sfrenatura”, Donato, and Marcus.
37 Indeed, ignoring references to Turpin, Donato remarks that “in every instance
where a book is mentioned in the Orlando Furioso, it is either in a theological
context or in the domain of negative theology of which necromancy partakes.
. . . Not once . . . is the book as book associated with literature in general or
[Ariosto’s] own enterprise in particular” (57– 58).
38 Comparetti details how this medieval concept of the magician’s spell book led,
once Vergil’s reputation as a magician was established, to several legends that
would have the Latin poet learning the black arts from a book (316– 18 and 352–
53).
39 Angelica employs demons explicitly in OI 1.1.51– 53 when she captures Malagise’s
spell book. It is implied that she uses them for speedy and surreptitious depar-
tures in 1.4.12 and 1.5.13. Boiardo does not clarify whether she or Malagise
summons the demon on which she rides to Ranaldo’s rescue in 1.9.10– 22; I
believe it is Malagise, since at this point he has regained his spell book, and it is
his plan that she follows.
Notes 145
40 Rinaldi identifies this book with the Gospel (539).
41 Throughout her book, Boiardo’s, Cavallo points out examples of Orlando’s fail-
ure to read and learn from the warnings provided to him. She sees Ranaldo as an
ideal reader, especially in her Ch. 7.
42 Cavallo, Boiardo’s 91. Franceschetti, however, argues against any transcendant
symbolism for the lady messenger, who is an element of the poem’s “dimensione
fiabesca e favolosa, magica ed incantata” (“L’allegoria” 181).
43 While I differ with Cavallo about some details, I agree with and am indebted to
her description of Orlando’s pattern of irregular progress in Boiardo’s Ch. 9– 13,
especially pp. 108– 13.
Chapter Two
2 Interestingly, in light of Giamatti’s thesis, just before the horse ran away with her,
Bradiamante had, in an extremely courteous manner, given control of herself to
Fiordespina (“il corpo insieme e l’anima vi dono”; OI 3.9.12; “My body and my
soul are yours”).
3 Exile 62. For Boiardo’s attitude toward closure, see also di Tommaso, “Boiardo/
Ariosto.”
4 For the allegorical meanings of Falerina’s garden and its inhabitants, see Michael
Murrin, Allegorical Ch. 3; and Cavallo, Boiardo’s Ch. 10.
5 Stagioni 52.
6 L’Orlando 212.
8 Boiardo’s 65.
10 I find unlikely Cavallo’s assertion that Atalante created the stream (Boiardo’s
123). There is no need for such a hypothesis, when similar magical marvels per-
vade the world of the Innamorato. It seems more probable that Atalante merely
lured Orlando to a pre-existing danger. Presumably the Naiads lived in the stream
since the days of ancient Greece.
Chapter Three
1 Marinelli, Ariosto and Boiardo 39.
2 For doubts about Bradamante’s war skills, see Tomalin, “Bradamante”; Feinstein,
“Bradamante” 51; and Finucci, The Lady Vanishes 236. For the opposite opin-
ion, see Robinson 170.
3 Note how, stylistically, this octave reflects its content. The four lines about Marfisa
have a choppy rhythm, due to the three caesuras and the strong final accents of
the three verbs (cacciò, scontrò, spezzò). Harsh consonant sounds prevail. The
lines about Bradamante flow much more smoothly and sound much gentler.
4 See, for example, Pampaloni, “La guerra” especially pp. 633– 35.
5 Momigliano 26. See also Giamatti, The Earthly Paradise 151– 155; and Lazzaro-
Ferri 48– 49.
6 See for example Brand, Ludovico Ariosto 100– 101; Wiggins, Figures 151– 53;
and Giamatti, The Earthly Paradise 151.
7 For chivalric strictures being used against knights, see Francesco Masciandaro.
For this particular case, see Giamatti, The Earthly Paradise 151.
8 Here I am indebted to Wiggins, especially Figures Ch. 4.
9 See Ascoli’s Ch. 3 for a thorough discussion of the Alcina and Logistilla episode
as educational, and for a suggestion of why Ruggiero fails to apply his new
lessons.
10 Reynolds’s translation.
11 Craig 25.
12 Santoro, Letture 188.
13 Wiggins, Figures 152.
14 Baillet 517.
15 Lazzaro 116.
16 26.
17 Bacchelli 588.
18 224.
148 Notes
19 Pool 53.
20 39.
21 Delcorno Branca finds that these bitter observations about the present do not
cancel out but rather accentuate the symbolic value of Orlando’s magnanimous
gesture (“Cavaliere” 381– 2).
22 Delcorno Branca, Orlando 103.
23 Henderson 125.
24 Baillet 376.
25 Chesney 42.
26 Orlando 94– 103.
27 Pettinelli, L’immaginario 45– 46.
28 Zatti puts this in terms of an unresolved conflict of the ideal and the real. Ariosto
celebrates chivalric values— in their defeat; and he recognizes the usefulness of
pragmatism— but treats it ironically (104– 5).
29 17– 21.
30 Baillet 480.
31 Javitch, “Rescuing” 92.
32 Ascoli believes the lessons were inadequate (201– 2). Marinelli attributes it to
Ruggiero’s lack of Christian religious instruction in Ariosto 144. Peter DeSa Wiggins
believes that Ariosto has encouraged the readers’ illusion that wisdom can control
desire and now bursts the bubble: “A young man’s wisdom is no match for a
pretty girl in the nude”; Satires xxviii.
33 Finucci, The Lady Vanishes 120.
34 Finucci, The Lady Vanishes 16.
35 17.
36 A desire which, it has been pointed out, for Ariosto’s Rinaldo is not overwhelm-
ing; Wiggins, Figures 36.
37 Betti, “Annotazioni” 343.
38 Turchi 1142.
39 In comical contrast to Dante, at the end of the episode Rinaldo remains uncertain
whether the figure of Disdain was a demon sent by Malagigi to help him, or an
angel sent by God. For more about this episode’s relation to Dante, see Johnson-
Haddad, “The Writer” 16– 21.
40 De Sanctis, Poesia 104. Marsh, too, sees Sdegno as an external sign of Rinaldo’s
own spiritual healing (“Ruggiero” 148).
Notes 149
41 Fonti 573– 75. This is not Ariosto’s only source, however; Martinez points out
Biblical references in the passage (99).
42 “La prova” 13.
43 Santoro, “Prova” 11.
44 Figures 36.
45 Figures 35. Martinez too finds that “Rinaldo’s refusal of the cup looks more and
more like a failure to acknowledge the extent of human fallibility: not so much
that of Clarice, as his own” (109).
46 Il Furioso 55– 58.
47 Pettinelli, L’Immaginario 30.
48 A conclusion shared by Martinez: in the judge’s tale Ariosto “demolishes expecta-
tions of perfectibility and offers a model for the restoration of the spousal bond
based on acknowledged mutual fallibility” (88).
49 Croce 34.
50 Santoro, Letture 132.
51 Santoro, Letture Ch. 4. While I agree that Astolfo is favored by fortune in the
Furioso (as well as in the Innamorato) I find that he is not completely lacking in
virtù; he does use his wits and make plans, as well as rely on luck.
52 311.
53 Baillet 311.
54 Delcorno Branca, Il romanzo 11.
55 237.
56 Zampese 238.
57 About one twelfth of it, according to Baillet 31. See his pp. 29– 34 for a math-
ematical breakdown of the poem by subjects.
58 Gardner called the “adulation . . . a blot upon the beauty of the poem and upon
the character of the author” in The King 287. Lee resents “his admirable rhetori-
cal flourishes about his patrons . . . they ring false, dreadfully false and studied”
(2: 104). Brand admits that they leave the modern reader cold, but argues in
Ludovico 114 that their classical allusions pleased the Cinquecento audience.
Robinson distinguishes between encomia of the Este in general, which are well
integrated into the narrative, and encomia of individuals, which are sycophantic,
bathetic, and fatuous (132– 33).
59 Farrell in her Ch. 4 finds that he subtly sabotages the overt praise textually and
with irony. Croce believed they were serious celebrations with a vein of joking
(38). Mario Marti sees them as not hypocritical, though not always successful (1:
344). According to Fichter, the idealized portrait of the Este was not necessarily
150 Notes
subverted by irony (88). Brand asserts that the encomia are not ironic, because
Ariosto was a loyal subject and could not risk offending even if he wanted to
(Ludovico 151). Padoan finds insincere the praise of Carlo V and Spain in par-
ticular (28).
60 Johnson-Haddad, “Writer” 58.
61 Welles 122. She referred this interpretation to the avarice fountain, but since the
monster is slain it seems to me that the knights would not find it an unhappy story
in any case.
62 123.
63 Farrell 116.
64 Griffin 74.
65 Through ironic language (Farrell 121) and through overstatement (Fichter 105).
66 Fichter 105.
67 391.
68 122.
69 124.
70 L’Orlando 100.
71 12.
Chapter Four
1 “Angelica’s Flight” 5.
2 202.
3 Baldan 343.
4 Ariosto 163.
5 Exile 63.
7 Almansi 178.
8 Almansi 179.
10 Almansi 179.
11 For example, Chesney 90. When insisting on the hippogriff’s reality, Ariosto uses
the style of the discredited medieval minstrels (Zatti, Il Furioso 189).
Notes 151
12 Reynolds’s translation.
13 For the significance of the solar circle, see Ascoli 85– 98.
14 Although my interpretation is different from hers, for my analysis of the poet’s
sabotage of Ruggiero’s journey I am indebted to Wise 47.
15 For the difficulty of concluding a romance, see Parker, Inescapable Romance
34– 36; and Quint, “Figure” 87.
16 Giamatti, Exile 142– 44.
17 Balducci 318.
18 The preceding interpretations are those of Lanfranco Caretti, in his “Commento
dell’Orlando furioso” in Ariosto, Opere minori 874.
19 Turchi 134.
20 Turchi 135.
21 Chesney 69.
22 Egan reads Boiardo’s Orilo as a humorous refutation of Pico della Mirandola’s
unrealistic philosophy.
23 Baldan 343– 47.
24 Baldan (348– 50) shows that even the introduction of the ogre’s wife is not a pure
victory of the popular tradition over the Classical.
Chapter Five
1 Kennedy 67.
2 Yarnall points out that this traditional reading of Circe as passion/lust overcom-
ing the hero’s reason depends on a serious misreading of Homer’s tale, starting
with the Odyssey’s earliest allegorizers (Ch. 3– 5).
3 See Momigliano 26– 31; Lazzaro 62– 65; Lazzaro-Ferri 48– 49; and Pool 37.
4 Giamatti, Earthly 147.
5 Lazzaro-Ferri 49– 50; and Momigliano 27.
6 McLucas 44.
7 Momigliano 38.
8 Farrell 36. Giamatti agrees that: “Its danger lay not in what it did to you, but in
what it allowed you to do to yourself” (Earthly 164).
9 Molinaro 265.
10 Donato 47.
152 Notes
11 Giamatti, Earthly 155.
12 Quint, “Epic” 19.
13 See Marinelli, Ariosto 145; and Quint, “Epic” 18 for interpretations of the three
parts.
14 Welles 170.
15 The term is from Wiggins, Figures 150.
16 Hutchinson 27.
17 Martinez 110.
18 Reynolds’s translation.
19 Donato 47. Quint in “Figure” sees it as a representation not of the Furioso but of
the Innamorato.
20 De Sanctis, Poesia 123.
21 Melissa does at one point predict to Bradamante that Ruggiero will be murdered,
though not at what age, and will later be avenged by his son (OF 3.24).
22 Reynolds 2: 19.
23 Pool 80.
24 Greene 121; and Haddad, “Writer” 113– 14.
25 Momigliano 306.
26 Baillet 320.
27 De Sanctis, Poesia 104.
28 Almansi 179.
29 Farrell 88– 89.
30 Quint, “Astolfo’s” 404– 06.
31 Quotations from the Satire are taken from the bilingual edition translated by
Wiggins.
32 It seems relevant also that the sin for which Ariosto puts the damned in hell is
ingratitude, although the emphasis is placed on ingratitude in love. Ingratitude is
also pointed out by the motto of the poem, “Pro bono malum”, and the accompa-
nying picture of the ungrateful peasant.
33 Quint, “Astolfo’s” 403.
34 L’anello, 131.
35 Unless, as Wiggins proposes, Ariosto intends to say that no one can represent
reality completely accurately (Figures 157). Carroll criticizes St. John’s overly
Notes 153
literal interpretation, and vindicates the verifiability of historical truth, as op-
posed to fictional tales, through judicious comparison of texts (190– 94).
36 Durling 149. Although I agree with him on this point, I am not so sure that
Ariosto did not doubt the Bible. The text does not make clear Ariosto’s true beliefs
on this point.
37 Quint, “Astolfo’s” 398.
38 Martelli 163– 70.
39 Quint, “Astolfo’s” 400.
40 Martelli 169.
41 Quint, “Astolfo’s” 407. See also Durling 130; Marinelli, Ariosto 198; and Marinelli,
“Redemptive” 505– 26.
Conclusion
1 Carroll discusses this unity in multiplicity as a Stoic conception of the cosmos,
especially in her Chapters One and Two.
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