Some jay of Italy,
Whose mother was her painting, hath betray'd him:
Poor I am stale, a garment out of fashion.
England is a paradise for women and hell for horses; Italy a paradise for horses, hell for women, as the diverb goes.
Three poets, in three distant ages born,
Greece, Italy, and England did adorn.
The first in loftiness of thought surpass'd;
The next, in majesty; in both the last.
The force of Nature could no further go;
To make a third, she join'd the former two.
Venice once was dear,
The pleasant place of all festivity,
The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy.
Italy, my Italy!
Queen Mary's saying serves for me
(When fortune's malice
Lost her Calais):
"Open my heart, and you will see
Graved inside of it Italy.'"
Thyrare gold ring of verse (the poet praised)
Linking our England to his Italy.
When some were saying that if Cæsar should march against the city they could not see what forces there were to resist him, Pompey replied with a smile, bidding them be in no concern, "for whenever I stamp my foot in any part of Italy there will rise up forces enough in an instant, both horse and foot."
After the conquest of Afric, Greece, the lesser Asia, and Syria were brought into Italy all the sorts of their Mala, which we interprete apples, and might signify no more at first; but were afterwards applied to many other foreign fruits.
England is a paradise for women, and hell for horses: Italy is a paradise for horses, hell for women.
"Take courage, soul! Hold not thy strength in vain! With faith o'ercome the steeps Thy God hath set for thee. Beyond the Alpine summits of great pain Lieth thine Italy."
Italy, my Italy! Queen Mary's saying serves for me-- (When fortune's malice Lost her Calais)-- Open my heart and you will see Graved inside of it, "Italy."
Beyond the Alps lies Italy.
Italy is only a geographical expression. [Fr., L'Italie est un nom geographique.]
Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy.