Lodovico Ariosto was an influential Italian poet of the Renaissance, renowned primarily for his epic poem, Orlando Furioso, published in 1516. This work serves as a continuation of Matteo Maria Boiardo's Orlando Innamorato, weaving together the adventures of Charlemagne, Orlando, and the Franks as they confront the Saracens. However, Ariosto's narrative transcends mere adventure, transforming into a satirical commentary on the chivalric tradition, showcasing his innovative use of the ottava rima rhyme scheme and narrative commentary. His ability to blend high adventure with humor and critique marked a significant evolution in epic poetry. Ariosto's contributions extend beyond his literary works; he is credited with coining the term 'humanism' in Italian, emphasizing the potential and strengths of humanity over its subservience to divine authority. This perspective was pivotal in shaping Renaissance humanism, influencing countless writers and thinkers in the centuries that followed. Ariosto's legacy endures not only through his poetry but also through his impact on the literary landscape, as he paved the way for future explorations of human experience in literature.
“Can it be true?'--she cried--'shall I be fainTo follow one, that strives to hide and fly?Esteem a man that has me in disdain?Pray him that never hears my supplant cry?Suffer who hates me o'er my heart to reign?One that his lofty virtues holds so high,T'were need some heaven-born goddess should descendFrom realms above, his stubborn heart to bend?...Yea: rather of myself I should complain,Than the desire, to which I bared my breastWhereby was Reason hunted from her reign,And all my powers by stronger force opprest.Thus borne from bad to worse, without a rein I cannot the unbridled beast arrest;Who makes me see I to destruction haste,That I bitterness in death may taste.Yet, ah! why blame myself? Wherein have IEver offended, save in loving thee?What wonder was it then that suddenlyA woman's feeble sense opprest should be?Why fence and guard myself, lest bearing high Wise words, and beauty rare should pleasure me?Most wretched is the mortal that would shunTo look upon the visage of the sun””