Note 8 — BOOK VII.
Rowland Smith translation
"Her rage was but a minute's, and 'twas well— A moment's more had slain her; but the while It lasted 'twas like a short glimpse of hell: Nought's more sublime than energetic bile, Though horrible to see, yet grand to tell, Like ocean warring 'gainst a rocky isle; And the deep passions flashing through her form, Made her a beautiful embodied storm."—Byron.