people no less than by persons of culture, are akin to the lyrical graces of Aminta. In the Gerusalemme Liberata, as in the Rinaldo, Tasso aimed at ennobling the Italian epic style by preserving strict unity of plot and heightening poetic diction. He chose Virgil for his model, took the first crusade for subject, infused the fervor of religion into his conception of the hero, Godfrey. But his natural bent was for romance. As he had done in Rinaldo, Tasso adorned Gerusalemme Liberata with a number of romantic episodes, which have proved more popular and influential than the grand sweep of the main theme. Thus, while the nominal hero of Gerusalemme Liberata is Godfrey of Bouillon ("Goffredo"), the leader of the First Crusade and the climax of the epic is the capture of the holy city. But Tasso's Goffredo, who is a mixture of Virgil's pious Aeneas and Tridentine Catholicism, is not the real hero of the epic. Instead, the reader is attracted to the stories of Ruggiero, fiery and passionate Rinaldo, melancholy and impulsive Tancredi, and also by the chivalrous Saracens with whom they clash in love and war. The action of the epic turns on three stories of interaction between noble beautiful pagan women and these Crusaders. Armida, a beautiful witch, is sent forth by the infernal senate to sow discord in the Christian camp. Instead, she is converted to the true faith by her adoration for a crusading knight, and quits the scene with a phrase of the Virgin Mary on her lips. Clorinda, a brave female warrior, dons armor like Ariosto's Marfisa, fights a duel with her devoted lover, and receives baptism at his hands as she lies dying. Finally, Erminia, hopelessly in love with Tancredi, seeks refuge in the shepherds' hut. These stories rivet the reader's attention, while the battles, religious ceremonies, conclaves and stratagems of the campaign are less engaging. Tasso's great invention as an artist was the poetry of sentiment. Sentiment, not sentimentality, gives value to what is immortal in the Gerusalemme. It was a new thing in the 16th century, something concordant with a growing feeling for woman and with the ascendant art of music. This sentiment, refined, noble, natural, steeped in melancholy, exquisitely graceful, pathetically touching, breathes throughout the episodes of the Gerusalemme, finds metrical expression in the languishing cadence of its mellifluous verse, and sustains the ideal life of those