"We learn, from the same interesting document, that he had at first no
intention of building a house for constant residence in this garden,
but that, having raised a mere cottage for temporary shelter, he grew
so fond of the spot, that he wished never to leave it. The structure,
after all, was not fully suited to his taste, and he felt as great an
inclination to improve it by continual alterations as his garden. His
constant lamentation was, that he could not change the arrangement of
his house as he could that of his verses: and a person having asked him
one day, how it happened that he who could describe castles and palaces
so magnificently, had built such a cottage, he replied, that he made
his verses without the aid of money.

"In his favourite garden he passed many hours of the day, deriving new
inspiration from its green and refreshing solitudes. The Orlando was
still in progress, and still under correction, his confidence in
himself, it seems, having been little increased either by years or
practice. In speaking, however, on this subject, he was accustomed to
say, that poetry might be compared to a laurel, which sprung up of
itself, and which might be greatly improved by cultivation, but would
lose all its natural beauty if too much meddled with:--this is the case,
he would continue, with stanzas, which come into the mind, we know not
how, and which may be improved by the correction of a little original
roughness, but are deprived of all their grace and freshness by too nice
a handling."--(_Stebbing's Life._)

The life-time of Ariosto was shortened by the intensity with which he
applied himself to the production of his works. One of his last labours
was a corrected and enlarged edition of his splendid Orlando Furioso.
The printing was, however, so badly executed, as to cause him to say
"he had been assassinated by his printer." Mr. Stebbing observes, "it