Note 53 — THE HOMES AND HAUNTS OF THE ITALIAN POETS.

I subjoin a literal prose translation in preference to borrowing a rhymed one from any of Tasso's translators. This fellow "flits and circles around more unstable than dry leaves in the wind. Without faith, without love, false are his pretended torments, and false the affection which prompts his sighs. A traitorous lover, he loves and despises almost at the same moment, and in triumph displays the spoils of women as impious trophies."