Andersen_The_Improvisatore.txt topic ['13', '324', '378', '393']
CHAPTER I.
THE CIRCUMSTANCES OF MY CHILDHOOD.
Whoever has been in Rome is well ac-
quainted with the Piazza Barberina, in the
great square, with the beautiful fountain, where
the Tritons empty the spouting conch-shell, from
which the water springs upwards many feet.
Whoever has not been there, knows it, at all
events, from copperplate engravings ; only it is
a pity, that in these the house at the corner of
the Via Felice is not given, that tall corner-
house, where the water pours through three
pipes out of the wall down into a stone basin.
40 THE IMPROVISATORS.
That bouse has a peculiar interest for me ; it
was there that I was born. If I look back to
my tender youth, such a crowd of bright re-
membrances meet me, that I scarcely knoir
where to begin ; when I contemplate the whole
drama of my life, still less do t know what I
should bring forward, what I should pass over
as unessential, and what points may suffice
to represent the whole picture. That which
appears attractive to me may not be so to
s stranger. I will relate truly and naturally
the great storj', but then vanity must come
into play, the wicked vanity, the desire to
pteaao. Already, in my cliildhooii,
THE laiPROVISATORE. 41
kiss the holy sign. One day, when we children
were playing, one of the youngest of them in-
qoired, " Why the child Jesus did not come
down and play with us?" I assumed an air
of wisdom, and replied, that he was really
bound upon the cross. We went to the church-
door, and, although we found no one, we
wished, as our mothers had taught us, to kiss
him, but we could not reach up to it ; one,
therefore lifted up the other, but just as the
lips were pointed for the kiss that one who
lifted the other lost his strength, and the
kissing one fell down just when his lips were
about to touch the invisible child Jesus. At
that moment my mother came by, and, when
^e saw our child's-play, she folded her hands,
and said, *' You are actually some of God's
angels! And thou art mine own angel!"
added she, and kissed me.
I heard her repeat to a neighbour what an
innocent angel I was, and it pleased me
greatly, but it lessened my innocence the
mustard-seed of vanity drank in therefrom the
first sunbeams. Nature had given to me a
gentle, pious character, but my good mother
made me aware of it ; she shewed me my real
and my imaginary endowments, and never
thought that it is with the innocence of the
42 THE IMPBOVISATORE.
child ns with the basilisk, which dies when it
sees itself.
The Capuchin monk, Fra Martino, was my
mother's confessor, and ebe related to him
what a pious child i was. 1 also knew several
prayers very nicely by heart, althongh I did not
understand one of them. He made very much
of me, and gave me a picture of the Virgin
weeping great tears, which fell, like ruu-drops,
down into the burning flames of hell, where
the damned caught this draught of refresh-
ment. He took me over with him into the
convent, where the open colonnade, which in-
THE IMPROVISATORE. 43
another that they formed walls^ and there-
with several chapels. In these were regular
niches, in which were seated perfect skeletons
of the most distinguished of the monks, en-
veloped in their brown cowls, and with a bre-
viary or a withered bunch of flowers in their
hands. Altars^ chandeliers, and ornaments,
were made of shoulder-bones and vertebrae,
with bas-reliefs of human joints, horrible and
tasteless as the whole idea.
I clung fast to the monk, who whispered a
prayer, and then said to me,
'^ Here also I shall some time sleep ; wilt
thou thus visit me?"
I answered not a word, but looked horrified
at him, and then round about me upon the
strange, grisly assembly. It was foolish to
take me, a child, into this place. I was sin-
gularly impressed by the whole thing, and did
not feel myself again easy until I came into
his little cell, where the beautiful yellow
oranges almost hung in at the window, and I
saw the brightly coloured picture of the Ma-
donna, who was borne upwards by angels into
the clear sunshine, while a thousand flowers
filled the grave in which she had rested.
This, my first visit to the convent, occupied
my imagination for a long time, and stands
44 THE IHPROVI5ATORE.
yet with extraordinary vividness before me.
This monk seemed to me quite a different
beinjr to any other {erson whom I knew ; bis
abode in the neif;hbourhood of the dead, who,
in their brown cloaks, looked almost like him-
self, the many histories which he knew and
could relate of holy men and wonderful mi-
racles, together with my mother's great reve-
rence for his sanctity, caused me to h^ia
thinking whether I too could not be such a
man.
My mother was a widow, and had no other
means of subsistence than what she obtained
THE IMPROVISATORS. 45
We soon became acquainted ; I loved him
mnch, and my mother said many a time that
he was a very upright person.
In the meantime I heard a conversation
one evening between my mother and the monk
Fra Martino, which excited in me a sorrowfbl
emotion for the young artist. My mother in*
quired if this foreigner would actually be eter-
nally condemned to hell.
** He and many other foreigners also," she
said, "are, indeed, very honest people, who
never do any thing wicked. They are good to
the poor, pay exactly, and at the fixed time;
nay, it actually often seems to me that they
are not such great sinners as many of us."
* Yes," replied Fra Martino, ** that is very
true, they are often very good people; but
do you know how that happens? You see,
the Devil, who goes about the world, knows
that the heretics will some time belong to him,
and so he never tempts them ; and, therefore,
they can easily be honest, easily give up sin ;
on the contrary, a good Catholic Christian is
a child of God, and, therefore, the Devil sets
his temptations in array against him, and we
weak creatures are subjected. But a heretic,
as one may say, is tempted neither of the flesh
nor the Devil ! "
46 THE IHPROVIf ATORE.
To this my mother could make no reply,
and sighed deeply over the poor youog man ;
I begHQ to cry, for it seemed to me that it was
a cruel bid that be should be burned eternally
he who was so good, and who drew me such
beautiful pictures.
A third person who played a great part in
my childhood's life, was Uncle Peppo, com-
monly called " Wicked Peppo," or '* the King
of the Spanish Steps,"* where he had bis daily
residence. Bom with two witliered legs, which
lay crossed under him, he had had from his
earliest childhood an extraordinary facility in
THE IMPROYISATORE. 47
My mother did not like him much, nay, in*
deed, she was ashamed of the relationship, but,
for my sake, as she often told me, she kept up
a friendship with him. He had that in his
chest which we others must look after, and if
I kept good friends with him I should be his
only heir, if he did not give it to the church.
He had, also, after his own way, a sort
of liking for me, yet I never felt myself
qaite happy in his neighbourhood. Once I
^^ the witness of a scene which awoke in me
fear of him, and also exhibited his own dis-
position. Upon one of the lowest flights of
^irs sat an old blind beggar, and rattled with
Us little leaden box that people might drop a
oajocco therein. Many people passed by my
uncle without noticing his crafty smile and the
waviDgs of his hat ; the blind man gained
more by his silence they gave to him. Three
had gone by, and now came the fourth, and
threw him a small coin. Peppo could no longer
contaio himself; I saw how he crept down
like a snake, and struck the blind man in his
&ce, so that he lost both money and stick.
"Thou thief!" cried my uncle, " wilt thou
steal money from me thou who art not even a
regular cripple ? Cannot see ! that is all his
48 THE lUPROVISATORE.
infirmity ! and so he will lake mj bread from
my montb ! "
I neither beard nor saw more, bat battened
home with the flask of wine wbicb I bad been
sent to purchase. On the great festival days I
was always obliged to go witli my mother to
visit hiui at his on-n house; we took with ns
one kind of present or other, either line grapes
or preserved golden pippins, which were his
greatest luxury, i was then obliged to kiss
bis hand and call him uncle; then he smiled
EO strangely, and gave ine a half'bajocco, al-
ways adding the exhortation that I should
THE IMPR0VI8AT0RE. 49
made use of him as a bugbear when she would
paoish me ; she said then that she would send
me to my dirty uncle^ that I should sit and
sing beside him upon the stairs, 'and thus do
something useful and earn a bajocco. But I
knew that she never meant so ill by me; I
was the apple of her eye.
On the house of our opposite neighbour
Aere was an image of the Virgin, before
which a lamp was always burning. Every
erening when the bell rang the Ave Maria,
I and the neighbours' children knelt before it,
and sang in honour of the mother of God, and
the pretty child Jesus, which they had adorned
with ribands, beads, and silver hearts. By
the wavering lamp-light it often seemed to me
as if both mother and child moved and smiled
upon us. I sang with a high, clear voice ; and
people said that I sang beautifully. Once
there stood an English family and listened to
as ; and, when we rose up from our knees,
the gentleman gave me a silver piece ; '^ it
was,*' my mother said, ^^ because of my fine
voice." But how much distraction did this
afterwards cause me! I thought no longer
alone on the Madonna when I sung before her
image ; no ! I thought, did any one listen to
my beautiful singing ; but always when I
YOL. I. D
50 THE IHPROVJSATORE.
thoitglit SO tliere succeeded a burning remorse^
I was afraid that she would be angry with lue;
and I prayed right innocently that she would
look down upon me, poor child I
The evening-song was, in the meantime,
the only point of union between me and the
other neighbours' children. I lived quietly,
entirely in my own self-created dream-world ;
1 lay for hours upon my back, with my face to
the open window, looking out into the won-
derful, gloriously blue, Italian heaTen, into the
play of colours at the going. down of the sun,
when the clouds hung with their violet-hued
THE IMPROYISATORE.
51
overgrown with that fine plant which we call
VeDa'-hair, and which, Iianging down, lost
itself in the dark depth. It was to me as if I
could see deep down into the earth, where my
&ncy then created for herself the strangest
pictures. In the meantime, my mother adorned
that ?indow with a great rod, to shew me
what fruit grew for me there, that I might not
fell down and get drowned.
But I will now mention an occurrence which
might easily have put an end to my life's his*
tory before it had come into any entangle-
ment.
THE VISIT TO THE CATACOMBS -
CHORISTER THE LOVELY AWOBL-CHILD II
IMPR0VI8AT0RB.
THE IMPROYISATORE. 53
stood as clear as a mirror, yes, so clear, that
one was obliged to move it with the torch to
convince one's self that it was up to the brim,
and that there was no empty space, as by its
clearness there seemed to be, ^all this excited
my imagination. Fear, I felt none, for I was
nnconscions of danger.
" Are we going to the caverns?" I inquired
from him, as I saw at the end of the street the
I%her part of the Colosseum.
'* No, to something much greater," replied
^] '' where thou shalt see something ! And I
^ paint thee, also, my fine fellow ! "
Thus wandered we farther, and ever farther,
ktween the white walls, the inclosed vine-
Jtrds, and the old ruins of the baths, till we
ere out of Rome. The sun burned hotly,
Md the peasants had made for their wagons
'ooft of green branches, under which they
slept, while the horses, left to themselves, went
at a foot's pace, and ate from the bundle of
hay which hung beside them for this purpose.
At length we reached the grotto of Egeria, in
which we took our breakfieist, and mixed our
wine with the fresh water that streamed out
from between the blocks of stone. The walls
and vaalt of the whole grotto were inside co-
vered over with the finest green, as of tapestry,
54 THE IUPR0VI6AT0RE.
woven of silks and velret, and round about
the great entrance Iiung the thickest ivy, fresh
and luxuriant as the vine foliage in the val-
leys of Calabria.
Not many paces from the grotto stands, or
rather stood, for there are now only a few re-
mains of it left, a little, and wholly desolate
house, built above one of the deBcents to the
catacombs. These were, as is well known,
in ancient times, connecting links between
Home and the surrounding cities ; in later
times, however, they have in part fallen in,
and in part been built up, because they served
THE IMPROVISATORE. 55
that he had no hesitation in taking me, the
little boy, down with him. He lighted his
candle, and took another with him in bis
pocket, fastened a ball of twine to the opening
where we descended, and our wandering com-
menced. Anon the passages were so low that
I could not go upright ; anon they elevated
themselves to lofty vaults, and, where the one
crossed the other, expanded themselves into
great quadrangles. We passed through the
Rotunda with the small stone altar in the
middle, where the early Christians, persecuted
by the Pagans, secretly performed their wor-
ship. Federigo told me of the fourteen popes,
and the many thousand martyrs, who here lie
buried : we held the light against the great
cracks in the tombs, and saw the yellow bones
within.* We advanced yet some steps onward,
and then came to a stand, because we were at
the end of the twine. The end of this Federigo
fastened to his button-hole, stuck the candle
* The monumental stones here are without any orna-
ment; on the contrary, one finds in the catacombs at
Naples the images of saints and inscriptions, but all very
indifferently done. On the graves of the Christians a fish
is figured, in the Greek name of which occiur the initial
letters of (*ii^f x^^rr, eu vUt rttrnO Jesus Christ, the
Son of God, the Redeemer. Auihor's Note.
56 THE IKPROTISATORE.
among aome Btone?, and then began to sketch
the deep passage. I sat close beside him
upon one of the stones ; he bad desired me to
fold my hands and to look upwards. The
light was nearly burnt out, but a whole one
lay hard by ; besides which he had brought
a tinder-box, by the aid of which be could
light the other in case this suddenly went out.
My im^nation ftshioned to itself a thou-
sand wonderful objects in the infinite passages
which opened tbemselves, and revealed to ub
an impenetrable darkness. All was quite still,
the falling waterdrops alone sent forth a mo-
THE IMPROVISATORE. 57
''Child! child! thou art a noble fellow!"
^id he ; ''I will give thee pictures and cakes
^^-there, thou hast money !" And he took his
purse oot of his pocket, and gave me all that
^Vras in it : but I felt that his hand was ice-
^^Id and that he trembled. On this I grew
more uneasy, and called my mother ; but now
lie seized me firmly by the shoulder, and,
shaking me violently, said *' I will beat thee
if thou art not quiet ! " Then he bound his
|X)cket-handkerchief round my arm, and held
ne fast, but bent himself down to nie the next
moment, kissed me vehemently, called me his
dear little Antonio, and whispered, " Do thou
also pray to the Madonna !*'
'' Is the string lost?" I asked.
" We will find it we will find it ! " he
replied, and began searching again. In the
meantime the lesser light was quite burnt out,
and the larger one, from its continual agita-
tion, melted and burnt his hand, which only
increased his distress. It would have been
quite impossible to have found our way back
without the string, every step would only have
led us deeper down where no one could save
us.
After vainly searching , he threw himself
upon the ground, cast his arm around my
d2
58 THE IHPROVISATOBE.
neck, and sighed, " Thou poor child ! *' I thea
wept bitterly, for it seemed to me that I never
more should reach my home. He clasped me
BO closely to him as he lay on the ground that
my hand slid ander him. I involuntarily
grasped the sand, and found the string be-
tween my fingers.
" Here it is!" I ezclumed.
He seized my hand, and became, as it were,
frantic for joy, for our life actually hung upoa
this single thread. We were saved.
Oh, how warmly beamed the sun, how blue
was the heaven, how deliciously green the
THE lUPBOVISATORE. 59
jesting assertion of some of our acquaintance,
that I was bom to be of the priesthood, be-
cause, with the exception of my mother, I
coald not endure women, instilled into her the
determination that I should become a servant
of the church. I do not myself know why,
^^t I had an antipathy to all women, and, as I
expressed this unhesitatingly, I was bantered
"7 every girl and woman who came to my
bother's. They all would kiss me : in par-
scalar was there a peasant girl, Mariuccia,
^ho by this jest always brought tears to my
^es. She was very lively and waggish, and
Maintained herself by serving as a model,
and always appeared, therefore, in handsome,
gay dresses, with a large white cloth upon
her head. She often sat for Federigo, and
visited my mother also, and then always told
me that she was my bride, and that I was
her little bridegroom, who must and should
give her a kiss; T never would do so, and
then she took it by force.
Once when she said that I cried childishly,
and behaved myself exactly like a child that
still sucked, and that I should be suckled like
any other baby, I flew out, down the steps,
but she pursued and caught me, held me
between her knees, and pressed my head.
60 THS IKPROVISATOBB.
which I turned away witli disgngt, ever closer
and closer to her breast. I tore the silver
arrow out of her hair, which fell down in rich
abundance over me and over her naked
shoulders. My mother stood on the hearth,
laughed, and encouraged Mariuccia, whibt
Federigo, unobservedly, stood at the door, and
painted the whole group.
" I will have no bride, no wife!" I ex-
claimed to my mother; " I will be a priest, or
a Capuchin, like Fra Martino!"
The extraordinary meditations into which I
was wrapt for whole evenings also were re-
THE IMPBOVISATORB. 61
my mother or Fra Martino I know not, bat
It 18 enough that my mother, early one mom-
^1 arrajed me in a little kirtle, and drew
over it an embroidered shirt, which only reached
^ the knees, and then led me to the glass that
* fflig^t see myself. I was now a chorister in
^he Cipuchin Church, must carry the great
censer of incense, and sing with the others
before the altar. Fra Martino instructed me
^ the whole duty. Oh, how happy all this
^e roe ! I was soon quite at home in that
little but comfortable church, knew every
Dg^el's head in the altar-piece, every oma-
oiental scroll upon the pillars, could see even
with my eyes shut the beautiful St. Michael
fighting with the dragon,* just as the painter
had represented him, and thought many won-
derful things about the death's heads carved
in the pavement, with the green ivy wreaths
around the brow.
On the festival of All Saints, I was down in
the Chapel of the Dead, where Fra Martino
had led me when I was with him for the first
time in the convent. All the monks sang
* The celebrated picture of St. Michael, the arch-
angel, who, with the beauty of youth, and with great
wings, sets his foot upon and pierces the head of the
DeriL ^ic^AorV Nate.
62 TUB lUPROTlSATORE.
masses for the dead, and I, with two other boys
of my owR age, swung the incense-breathing
censer before the great altar of skolls. They
had placed tights in the chandeliers made of
bones, new garlands were placed around the
brows of the skeleton-monks, and fresb bou-
^juets in their hands. Many people, aa usnal,
thronged in ; they all knelt, and the singers
intoned the solemn Miserere. I gazed for a
long time on the pale, yellow skulls, and the
fumes of the incense which wavered in strange
shapes between tbem and me, and every thing
began to spin round before my eyes ; it waa as
THE IMPROVISATOBE. 63
This occasioned me before long to have many
extraordinary dreams^ and which put together
I i*elated to my mother, and she again com-
n^unicated to her friends, so that I became
daily more and more to be regarded as a child
of God.
In the meantime, the happy Christmas ap-
proached. Piflferari, shepherds from the moun-
^^ins, came in their short cloaks, with ribands
^oand their pointed hats, and announced with
the bagpipe, before every house where there
stood an image of the Virgin, that the time
^as at hand in which the Saviour was born.
^ was awoke every morning by these mono-
^Dous, melancholy tones, and my first occu-
pation then was to read over my lesson, for I
Was one of the children selected, '^ boys and
girls," who, between Christmas and New-year,
were to preach in the church ara coeliy before
the image of Jesus.
It was not I alone, my mother, and Mari-
secia, who rejoiced that I, the boy of nine,
should make a speech, but also the painter
Federigo, before whom I, without theif know-
ledge, had had a rehearsal, standing upon a
table ; it would be upon such a one, only that
a carpet would be laid over it, that we children
should be placed in the churchy where we, be-
64 THE IHPBOTISATORB.
fore the Bseembied muUitndee, must repeat the
speech, which we bad learned by rote, about
the bleeding heart of the Madonna, and the
beauty of the child Jesns.
I knew nothing of fear, it was only with joy
that my heart beat go Tiolently as I stepped
forward, and saw all eyes directed to me.
That I, of all the children, gave most delight,
seemed decided ; but now there was lifted up
a little girl, who was of eo exquisitely delicate
a form, and who had, at the same time, so
wonderfully bright a countenance, and such a
melodious voice, that all exclaimed aloud that
THE IMPBOVISATORE. 65
unfolded itself, tbe nightingale sang only of it,
flew among the thorns, and wounded itself.
Tbe song often occurred to me when I became
older, but in the church, ara codi, I knew it
not, neither my ears nor my heart knew it !
At home, I had to repeat before ray mother,
Mariuccia, and many friends, the speech which
I had made, and this flattered my vanity not a
little; but they lost, in the meantime, their
interest in hearing it earlier than I mine in
repeating it. In order now to keep my public
in good humour, I undertook, out of my own
head, to make a new speech. But this was
rather a description of the festival in the
church than a regular Christmas speech. Fe-
derigo was the first who heard it ; and, al-
though he laughed, it flattered me still, when
he said that my speech was in every way as
good as that which Fra Martino had taught me,
and that a poet lay hidden in me. This last
remark gave me much to think about, because
I could not understand it ; yet, thought I to
myself, it must be a good angel, perhaps the
same which shews to me the charming dreams,
and so many beautiful things when I sleep.
For the first time during the summer, chance
gave me a clear notion of a poet, and awoke
new ideas in my own soul-world.
66 THE IMPBOTIHATOHE.
It but very rarely hap]etied that mr motber
left the quarter of the city in which we lived ;
therefore, it seemed to me like a festiral when
she said to me, oae afternoon, that we would
go and pay a visit to a friend of hers in Tras-
tevere.* I was dressed in my holiday suit,
and the gay piece of silk which I usually wore
instead of a waistcoat was fastened with pins
over the breast, and under my little jacket ;
my neckerchief was tied in a great bow, and
an embroidered cap was on my bead. I was
particularly elegant.
When, after the visit, we returned home, it
THB IMPROVISATORE. 67
black stone pillars of the old ruinous bridge,
whichywitli strong shadow, lifted itself out of
the stream where the great mill-wheel rushed
rounds nay, even the merry girls who skipped
past with the tambourine and danced the saltar-
ello.*
In the streets around Santa Maria della Ro-
tanda, all was yet life and motion ; butchers
and fruit-women sat before their tables, on
which lay their wares among garlands of laurel,
and with lights burning in the open air. The
fire flickered under the chestnut-pans, and the
conversation was carried on with so much
screaming and noise, that a stranger who did
not understand a word might have imagined
* A popular Roman dance to a most monotonous tune.
It is danced by one or two persons, yet without these
comiog in contact with each other ; most frequently by
two men, or two women, who, with a quick, hopping
step, and with increasing rapidity, move themselves in a
iialf-cirele. The arms are as violently agitated as the
legs, and chan^ their position incessantly, with all that
natural grace peculiar to the Roman people. Women
are accustomed in this dance to lift up the petticoats a
little, or else to beat time themselves upon the tam-
bourine : this, otherwise, is done by a tlurd person on
the monotonous drum, the changes in the time alone
ccmsisting in the greater or less rapidity with which the
strokes follow one aaothtr, -^AuUior's Note.
68 THE IMPBOVI8ATORE.
it to be some contention of life and death. An
old friend whom my mother met in the fish-
market kept us talking so long, that people
were beginning to put out their lights before we
set off ^ain, and as my mother accompanied
her ii-iend to her door it had now become as
silent as death in the street, eren in the Corso ;
but when we came into the square di Trevi,
where there is the beautiful cascade, it seemed
on the contrary quite cheerful again.
Tlie moonlight fell exactly upon the ohl
palace, where the water streams out between
the masses of foundation -rock which
THE IMPROVISATORS. 69
mother remained standing ; and I now listened
to a song which seized upon me quite in an
extraordinary way, for it was not a song like
any other which I had heard. No ! he sang
to us of what we saw and heard, we were our-
selves in the song, and that in verse, and with
melody. He sang, '^ How gloriously one can
sleep with a stone under the head, and the
blae heaven for a coverlet, whilst the two Pif
ferari blow their bagpipes;*' and with that he
pointed to the Tritons who were blowing their
horns, ^* how the whole company of peasants
who have shed the blood of the melon will
drink a health to their sweethearts, who now
are asleep, but see in dreams the dome of St.
Peter's, and their beloved, who go wandering
about in the Papal city." " Yes, we will
drink, and that to the health of all girls whose
arrow has not yet expanded.* Yes," added
he, giving my mother a little push in the side,
''and to mothers who have for their sweet-
hetrts lads on whose chins the black down has
not yet grown ! "
'' Bravo !" said my mother, and all the pea-
* The arrow which the peasant women wear ia their
hair has a ball at the end if they are free ; but, if be-
trothed QIC married, has an expanded head.-*iltftor*
70 THE IHPBOVIBATORE.
saQts clapped their hands and shonted, " BraTO,
Giaconio ! braro 1 "
Upon the steps of the little cbnrch we dis-
covered, in the meantime, an acquaintance^
our Federigo, who stood with a pencil and
sketched the whole merrj moonlight piece.
As we went home he and my mother joked
about tbe brisk Improvisatore, for sb I heard
them call the peasant who snng so charm-
ingly.
" Antonio," said Federigo to me, " thou,
also, should'st improvise ; thou art truly, also,
a little poet! Thou must leam to put thy
THE IMPROVISATORE. 71
^g^s, which were reared up like columns,
sustained a Parmesan cheese, shining like yel-
low amber. When in an evening the whole
was lighted up, and the red glass-lamps burned
before the image of the Madonna in the wall
among sausages and ham, it seemed to me as
^f I looked into an entirely magical world.
The cat upon the shop-table, and the young
Capuchins, who always stood so long cheapen-
ing their purchases with the signora, came also
into the poem, which I pondered upon so long,
*kat I could repeat it aloud and perfectly to
Werigo, and which, having won his applause,
quickly spread itself over the whole house,
^^h even to the wife of the bacon-dealer her-
self, who laughed and clapped her hands, and
called it a wonderful poem, a Divina Comedia
^ Dante!
From this time forth every thmg was sung.
I lived entirely in fancies and dreams. In the
church, when I swung the censer, in the
iin^is amid the rolling carriages and scream-
ing traders, as well as in my little bed beneath
the image of the Virgin and the holy-water ves-
sel. In the winter-time, I could sit for whole
hours before our house, and look into the
great fire in the street, where the smith heated
his iron, and the peasants wanned themselves.
72 THE IHPBOVISATORE.
I saw in the red tire a world glowing as my
own imagination. I sbouted for joy, whea in
winter the bdow of the monataiiiB sent down
to us sucli severe cold, that icicles hung fnNU
the Triton iu the square; pity that it was so
seldom. Then, also, were the peasanta glad,
for it was to tbcm a sign of a fertile year; tbey
took hold of each other's hands, and danced
in their great woollen cloaks round about the
Triton, whilst a rainbow played in the high-
springing water.
But I loiter too long over the simple recol-
lections of my childhood, which cannot hav
CHAPTER III.
THE FLOWER-FEAST AT GENZANO.*
It was in the month of June, and the day
fthe famous flower-feast which was annu-
% celebrated at Genzano approached. My
iQother and Mariuccia had a mutual friend
^^9 who, with her husband , kept a public-
nouae.t They had for many years determined
^ go to this festival, but there was always
^Diething or other to prevent it; this time
there was nothing. We were to set off the
% before the flower-feast, because it was a
long way ; I could not sleep for joy through
Ae whole night preceding.
* A little dty in the mountains of AlbanOi which lies
^Q the highroad between Rome and the Marshes.
^* hy the Author.
t ** Ojterui e cvcinaj' the customary sign for the lower
^ of hotels and public-houses in Italy. Ibid,
VOL. I. S
/4 THE IMPROVISATORS.
Before the sun bad risen, the ritturino drove
lip to the door, and we rolled away. Never
Ijefore had I been among the mountains. Ex-
pectation, and joy of the approaching festival,
set my whole soul in motion. If in my maturer
years 1 could have seen uature and life around
me with the same vivid feeling as then, and
could have expressed it in words, it would
have been au immortal poem. The great still-
ness of the streets, the iron-studded dty-gate,
the Campagna stretching out for miles, with
the lonely monuments, the thick mist which
covered the feet of the distant mountains, all
THE IMPSOVISATORB. 75
ation of the vast flocks of sheep, which the
wandering drivers kept together in one place
Iy stretching a fishing^net, like a fence, around
the whole herd.
From Albano we were to go on foot for
the short and beautiful remainder of the way
throagh Arriccia. Resida and golden cistus
gwwwild by the roadside, the thick, juicy olive-
ts cast a delicious shade ; I caught a glimpse
of tke distant sea, and upon the mountain-
dopes by the wayside, where a cross stood,
laerry girls skipped dancing past us, but yet
aever forgetting piously to kiss the holy cross.
"^ lofty dome of the church of Arriccia I
iinagined to be that of St. Peter, which the
^gels had hung up in the blue air among the
dark olive-trees. In the street, the people had
^Ueeted around a bear which danced upon his
^-legs, while the peasant who held the rope
Uew upon his bagpipe the selfsame air which
'^had played at Christmas, as Pifferaro, before
^ Madonna. A handsome ape in a military
^''^nn, and which he called the corporal,
iB&de somersets upon the bear's head and
^^ck. I was quite willing to stop there in-
^^ of going on to Genzano. The flower-
^^iH was really not till to-morrow, but my
bother was resolute that we should go and
76 THE IMPaOTlSA.TOBB.
lielji her frieDd, Angeline, to make garlaads
and flower-tapestry.
We soon went the short remainder of the
WHy and arriTed at Angeline's hoase ; it stood
in thflt part of the neif^hbourhood of Genzano
which looks on Lake Ncmi; it was a prettj
house, and out of the wall flowed a fresh fountain
into a etone hasin, where the ussea thronged to
drink.
We entered the hostel ; there was a noise
and a stir. The dinner was boiling and friz-
zling on the hearth. A crowd of peasants and
town-folk eat at the long wooden tables drink-
THE IMPROVISATORS. 77
ceived a kise whether I would or not. An-
geline said I was a pretty boy and my mother
patted me on the cheek with one hand, whilst
^th the other she put my things to rights ;
and now she pulled my jacket, which was too
little for me, down to my hands, then again up
to my shoulders and breast, just as it ought to
have been.
After dinner, a perfect feast awaited us ; we
^ere to go out to gather flowers and leaves for
?wlands. We went through a low door out
into the garden ; this was only a few ells in
circumference, and was, so to say, one single
l^wer. The light railing which inclosed it
^as strengthened with the broad, firm leaves
f the aloe, which grew wild here, and formed
^ Qataral fence.
The lake slept calmly in the great, round
Cfater, from which at one time fire spouted up
^ heaven. We went down the amphitheatre-
li^e, rocky slope, through the great beech and
^^^ thick plantain wood, where the vines
^'^thed themselves among the tree-branches.
On the opposite descent before us lay the city
^fNemi, and mirrored itself in the blue lake.
As we went along, we bound garlands ; the
Qark green olive and fresh vine-leaves we en-
^ined with the wild golden cistus. Now the
78 THE IHFROVIBATORE.
deep-lying, blue lake, and tlie bright hearens
above us, were hidden by the thick green and
the vine-leares ; now they gleamed forth a^in
as if they both were only one single, infinite
blue. Every thing was to me new and glo-
rious; my 8MiI trembled for quiet joy. There
are even yet moments In which the remem-
brance of these feelings come forth again^like
the beautiful mosaic fragment of a buried city.
The sun burned hotly, and it was not until
we were by the lake-side, where the plantains
shoot forth their ancient trunks from the water,
and bend down their branches, lieavy with en-
THE IMPR0VI6AT0RE. 79
bind fast to the earth ; I had climbed upon
this, and was weaving a garland whilst I sang
from a canzonet,
^ Ah ! rossi, rossi fieri,
Un mazzo di violi !
Un gelsomin d*amore,"
when I was suddenly interrupted by a strangely
whistling voice,
" Per dar al mio bene ! "
aiid as suddenly there stood before me a tall,
aged woman, of an unusually slender frame,
and in the costume which the peasant women
of Frascati are so fond of wearing. The long
white veil which hung down from her head
over her shoulders contributed to give the
countenance and neck a more Mulatto tint
than they probably had naturally. Wrinkle
crossed wrinkle, whereby her face resembled
a crumpled-up net. The black pupil of the
eye seemed to fill up the whole eye. She
laughed, and looked at the same time both
seriously and fixedly at me, as if she were a
mommy which some one had set up under the
trees.
"Rosemary flowers," she said, at length,
** become more beautiful in thy hands; thou
hast a lucky star in thy eyes."
80 THE IHPR0V18AT0BB.
I looked at her with astonishment, aad
pressed the garland which I was weaving to
niy lipB.
" There is poison in the beautiful laurel-
leaves ;* bind thy garland, but do not taste of
the leaves."
"Ah, the wise Fulvia of Frascati!" ex-
claimed Angellne, stepping from among the
bushes, "art thou also making garlands for
to-morrow's festival? or," continued she, in
a more subdued voice, " art thou binding an-
other kind of nos^;ay while the sun goes down
on the CampagnaT"
THE IMPROVISATORE. 81
%
meaning in her reply than we at that time
might imagine.
'* The broad hat," said she, " will not shadow
his brow when he stands before the people,
when his speeches sound like music, sweeter
than the song of nuns behind the grating, and
more powerful than thunder in the mountains
of Albano. The seat of Fortune is higher than
Monte Cave, where the clouds repose upon the
mountains among the flocks of sheep."
"Oh, God!" sighed my mother, shaking
her head somewhat incredulously, although
she listened gladly to the brilliant prophecy,
"he is a poor 'child Madonna only knows
what will become of him! The chariot of
Fortune is loftier than the car of a peasant of
Albano, and the wheel is always turning;
how can a poor child mount it ?"
" Hast thou seen how the two great wheels
of the peasant's car turn round ? The lowest
Spoke becomes the highest, and then goes
down again ; when it is down, the peasant sets
his foot upon it, and the wheel which goes
i*ound lifts him up : but sometimes there lies a
^tone in the path, and then it will go like a
dance in the market-place."*
* The peasants mount into their tall cars by standing
upon the spoke of the ascending wheel. AtUhor's Note,
2
82 TBB IMPROVISATORS.
" Aod may not I, too, mouot with him into
the chariot of Fortuoe?" asked mj mother,
half in jest, bnt uttered at the same moment a
loud cry, for a lai^ eagle flew so near us
down into the lake that the water at the
same moment splashed into our faces from the
force with which he struck it with his groat
winga. High up in the air bis keen glance
had discovered a lai^ fish, which lay immov-
able as a reed upon the surface of the lake;
with the swiftness of an arrow he seized upon
his prey, stuck his sharp talons into the back
of it, and was about to raise himself again.
THE IMPROVISATORE. 83
struck together, a crack was heard, the one
wing sank down, whilst the other lashed the
water to foam, and then vanished. The fish
sunk beneath the waves with his enemy, where
a moment afterwards they must both die.
We had all ^azed on this scene in silence ;
when my mother turned herself round to the
others, the sibyl had vanished. This, in con-
nexion with the little occurrence, which, as
will be seen, many years afterwards had an in-
fluence on my fate, and which was deeply
stamped upon my memory, made us all some-
what silently hasten home. Darkness seemed
to come forth from the thickset leaves of the
trees, the fire-red evening clouds reflected
themselves in the mirror of the lake, the mill-
wheel rushed round with a monotonous sound ;
all seemed to have in it something demo-
niacal. As we went along, Angeline re-
lated to us in a whisper strange things which
bad been told to her of the old woman, who
understood how to mix poisons and love-
potions; and then she told us about poor Tberese
of Olevauo how she wasted away day by day
from anxiety and longing after the slender
Guiseppe, who had gone away beyond the
mountains to the north, how the old woman
bad boiled herbs in a copper vessel^ and let
84 THE IMPROVISATORS.
them simmer over the hot coals for, several
days, until Guiseppe also was seized upon hy a
loDgiag, and was obliged to speed back aj^in,
day and night, without rest or stay, to where
the vessel was boiling holy herbs and a lock of
his and Therese's hair. I said an Are Maria
softly, and did not feel easy until I wad aguQ
in the house with Angeline.
The four wicks in the brass lamp were
lighted, one of our garlands hung around it,
and a supper of mongana al pomidoroi'* was
set out for us, together with a bottle full of
wine. The peasants in the room below as
THE improvisators: 85
^e church, and, perhaps, some day should
"*ve to explam the word of God to the people,
^^ set myself up there like a fool ; that it was
^t now carnival time, and that she would not
f**ow it. But when in the evening we were
]^ our sleeping-room, and I had climbed up
^^^ the broad bed, she pressed me tenderly to
'^J* heart, called me her comfort and her joy,
**^d let me lay my head upon her arm, where
breamed till the sun shone in at my window,
*^d awoke me to the beautiful feast of iiowers.
How shall I describe the first glance into
.^^ street that bright picture as I then saw
'^ ^ The entire, long, gently ascending street
^s covered over with flowers; the ground
^lour was blue : it looked as if they had
^hbed all the gardens, all the fields, to collect
^^wers enough of the same colour to cover the
^t:reet; over these lay in long stripes, green,
^^mposed of leaves, alternately with rose-
.^^lour; at some distance from this was a
Similar stripe, and between this a layer of dark
^d iiowers, so as to form, as it were, a broad
vK)rder to the whole carpet. The middle of this
Represented stars and suns, which were formed
by a close mass of yellow, round, and star-like
flowers ; more labour still had been spent upon
86 tHB IMPROTIBATOBS.
the formation of names here flower was laid
upon flower, leaf upon leaf. The whole vas a
liriug flower-carpet, a mosaic floor, richer in
pomp of colouring than any thing which Pom-
peii can shew. \ot a breath of air stirred
the flowers lay immovable, as if they were
heavy, firmly set precious stones. From all
windows were hung upon the walls lai^ car-
pels, worked in leavesand flowers, representing
holy pictures. Here Joseph led the ass on
which sat the Madonna and the child; roses
formed the faces, the feet, and the anns ; plly-
flowers and anemones their flattering garments ;
THE IHPROYISATORB. 87
fflotiier had taken her place, and I stood just
'before the satyr's head which looks out from
^e crater.
The sun burnt hotly, all the bells rung, and
^6 procession moved along the beautiful
flower-carpet; the most charming music and
siDging announced its approach. Choristers
swung the censer before the host, the most
l^cautifiil girls of the country followed, with
S^Hands of flowers in their hands, and poor
^Udren, with wings to their naked shoulders,
^^Og hymns, as of angels whilst awaiting the
**ival of the procession at the high altar.
^oung fellows wore fluttering ribands around
^^^ir pointed hats, upon which a picture of
^^Q Madonna was fastened ; silver and gold
^^^gs hung to a chain around their necks, and
^^ndsome, bright-coloured scarfs looked splen-
^^dly upon their black velvet jackets. The girls
^'^ Albano and Frascati came, with their thin
^^ils elegantly thrown over their black, plaited
^%ir, in which was stuck the silver arrow ;
^^ose from Villetri, on the contrary, wore gar-
^^nds around their hair, and the smart necker-
^lief, fastened o low down in the dress as to
l^ave visible the beautiful shoulder and the
^ound bosom. From Abruzzi, from the
Marshes, from every other neighbouring dis-
68 THB lUPROVISATOBS.
trict, came all in their peculiar national cos-
tume, and produced altc^ther the most bril-
liant effect. Cardinals, in their mantles woren
with silver, adranced under canopies adorned
with flowers, monks of various orders followed,
all hearing horning tapers. When the prcK
cession came out of the church an immense
crowd followed. We were carried along with
it, my mother held me firmly by the shoulder,
that I might not be separated from her. Thus
I went on, shut in by the crowd; I could see
nothing but the blue sky above my head. All
at once there was sent forth a piercing cry it
TH IMPROYISATORE. 89
I looked at the heavy, closed eyes, and
folded the lifeless hands which lately had so
lovingly protected me. The monks carried
ker into the convent, and as I was altogether
^thout injury, excepting that the skin was a
little broken, Mariuccia took me back again
to the hostel where I had been yesterday so
joyful, had bound garlands, and slept in my
mother's arms. I was most deeply distressed,
^though I did not apprehend how entirely for*
lorn I was. They gave me playthings, fruit,
&fid cakes, and promised me that on the mor-
row I should see my mother again, who, they
^d,was to-day with the Madonna, with whom
were was a perpetual flower-feast and rejoicing,
^ut other things which Mariuccia said also did
^ot escape my attention. I heard her whisper
*boiit the hateful eagle yesterday, about Fulvia,
^i about a dream which my mother had had ;
^^^ she was dead every one had foreseen mis-
fcrtune.
"Fhe runaway horses had, in the meantime,
gone right through the city, and, striking
*P^n8t a tree, had been stopped, and a gentle-
^*n of condition, upwards of forty years of
^e, half dead with terror, had then been
'^^Iped from the carriage. He was, it was said,
^f the Borghesa family, and lived in a villa
90 THE IHPROVISATOBE.
between Alb&no and Frascati, and was know
for his singular passion for collecting all kind
of plants and flowers ; nay, in the dark science
it was believed that he was as knowing s
even the wise Fulvia. A servant in rich liver
brought a purse containing twenty Bcndi froi
hin) for the motherless child.
The next evening, before the ringing of tb
Ave Maria, I itas conducted into the conveo'
to see my mother for the last time ; she lay i
the narrow wooden coffin, in her holiday aj
pare), as yesterday at the flower-feast. I kisse
her folded hands, and the women wept wit
THE IMPROVISATORE.
91
tered over with leaves and flowers ; but the
pictures, the beautiful figures, were all vanished
like the happiness of my childhood, the bliss of
^y past days. I saw when we reached the
churchyard how the great stone was lifted
wide which covered the vault into which the
corpses were lowered. I saw the coffin descend ,
and heard the dull sound as it was set down
^pon the others. Then all withdrew except
Mariuccia, who let me kneel upon the grave-
stone, and repeat an " Ora pro nobis!*'
In the moonlight night we journeyed back
^m Genzano; Federigo and two strangers
^ere with us. Black clouds hung upon the
^iMmntains of Albano. I saw the light mists
^ch flew in the moonlight across the Cam-
P^gna. The others spoke but very little, and I
oon slept, and dreamed of the Madonna, of the
lowers, and my mother, who lived, smiled, and
talked to me.
CHAPTER IV.
C:CLE PEPPO. THE MIGHT IK TEE COLOSBBUK.
THE ADTICB.
What should really now be done with met
THE IMPROVISATOBE. 93
Whilst Fra Martino counselled with himself
m the convent, my uncle Peppo came stump-
S upon his wooden clogs. He had heard of
''^y mother's death, and that twenty scudi had
^Ilen to me, and for this reason he also now
^^e to give his opinion. He declared, that
^ he was the only relative I had in the world,
"^ should take me to himself; that I was to
^*^Uow him, and that every thing whicli the
"^ti9e contained was his, as well as the twenty
^Udi. Mariuccia maintained %vith great zeal
*^t she and Fra Martino had already arranged
^ery thing for the best, and gave him to
'^^derstand that he, u cripple and a beggar,
^^d enough to do with himself, and could not
^^ve any voice in the matter.
Federigo left the room, and the two who
^^mained reproached each other mutually with
^e selfish gi*ound of their regard for me.
^^ncle Peppo spit forth all his venom, and
'^^ariuccia stood like a Fury before him. She
^^ould, she said, have nothing to do with him,
^or with ihe boy ; she would have nothing to
^0 with any thing. She said he might take
^e and get me a pair of wooden crutches made,
^nd so like a cripple I could help to fill his
l)ag! He might take me with him, but the
money she would keep till Fra Martino came
94 THB IHPROVIBATOBE.
back ; not a single sUver of it slioald his fidee
eyes behold ! Peppo threatened to knock a
hole in her head, as big as the Piazzo del
Popolo, with his wooden hand-clogs. 1 stood
weeping near to them. Mariuccia pushed bm
from her, and Peppo drew me to him. I must
follow him, he said, must attach myself to him ;
but if he bore the burden he also would bav*
the reward. The Roman senate knew well
enough how to do right to an honest man :
and then he drew me against my will oat of
the house-door, where a ragged lad held his
ass : for on great occasions, and when haata
THE IMPROVISATORE. 95
almost at every corner. The woman who sold
citron-peel water reached to us a whole glass
for our long story, and gave me a pine-apple
to take with me, the inside of which was all
gone. Before we got under bis roof the sun
I^ad gone down. I said not one word, but
pressed my hands before my face, and cried,
hi the little room which adjoined the larger
foom, he shewed me in a comer a bed of
i&aize-leaves, or rather the dried husks of the
nuiize ; here I was to sleep. Hungry I could
M be, he said, nor thirsty either, for we had
lnmk the excellent glass of citron-water. He
patted me on the cheek with that same hateful
^e of which I always felt such horror. He
then asked me how many silver pieces there
wore in tlie purse, whether Mariuccia had paid
thevetturino out of it, and what the strange
servant had said when he brought the money.
I Would give him no explanation, and asked
^ith tears whether I was always to remain
'^^, and whether I could not go home to-
"H)rrow.
** Yes, surely! yes, surely !" said he ; '* sleep
"^^ but do not forget thy Ave Maria ; when
P^ple sleep the devil wakes : make the sign of
^ cross over thee, it is an iron wall which a
Vb TRB IHPItOTlBATOItE.
raging lion cannot break through ! I
piously ; and pray that the Madonna
punish with poison and corraption the f
Mariacda, who would overreach thy it
cence, and cheat thee and mc of all thy ]
perty. Now go to Bleep, the little hole ab
can stand open, the fresh air is half a sop-
Don 't be afraid of the bats they fly past,
poor things! Sleep well, my Jesus-chil
And with this he bolted the door.
For a long time he busied himself in
other room ; then 1 heard other voices, :
the light of a lamp came in through a ch
THE IMPROYISATORE. 97
the grass on Monte Pincio,* where he supported
bis bound^up head against a tree-stem^ and
iBored his lips as if half-dying, whilst his wife
pointed out the ferer-sick, suffering man^ to the
P88eii-by. Franeia, with his fingerless hands,
drummed with the stumps upon the shoulders
of the blind Cathrina, and sang half aloud
^^Cacalier Tarchino." Two or three others
^t near the door, but so much in the shadow,
Aat I did not know them. My heart beat
iolendy with fear. I heard that they talked
about me.
**Can the boy do any thing?" asked one.
"Has he any sort of a hurt?"
*' No, the Madonna has not been so kind to
biro," said Peppo ; " he is slender and well
*nned, like a nobleman's child."
"That is a great misfortune," said they all.
I^e blind Cathrina added that I could have
*ome little hurt, which would help me to get
*y earthly bread until the Madonna gave me
*e heavenly.
'* Ay,** said Peppo, " if my niece had been
^is is the public promenade which extends from
^ Spanish Steps to the French Academy, and down to
* ti ^ Popolo, looking over the greatest part of Rome
*^ ^ Bea, with the Villa Borgbese. ^te^ar' Nate.
^01. 1. F
L
98 THE IHPHOVISATOBE.
wise the lad migbt have made bis fortane !
He lias a voice, oh, like the dear anjfels of
heaven ! he was nieant for the Pope's chapel !
be ought to have beea a singer ! "
They talked of my age, and of what could
yet be done, and bow my fortune mast be
made. I did not understand what Ibey would
do with me, but thus much, I saw clearly that
it was something bad they meant, and I
trembled for fear. But bow should I get
away ? This alone filled my whole soul.
Whither should I go ? No, of that I thought
not. 1 crept along the door to the opeu hole.
THE IMPROVISATOBE. 99
place, it was the Forum RomanuiUy the cow
market as we called it.
The moon illumined the back of the Capitol,
which, like a perpendicular wall of rock, seemed
to divide the closely built part of Rome from
that which was more open. Upon the high
steps of the arch of Septimus Severus lay
seTcral beggars asleep, wrapped in their large
cloaks. The tall columns which yet remain of
the old temple cast long shadows. I had never
been there before after sunset ; there was some-
thing spectral to me in the whole, and as I
went along I stumbled over the marble capitals
which lay in the long grass. I rose up and
gazed upon the ruins of the city of the Ceesars.
The thick ivy made the walls still darker ; the
black cypresses raised themselves so demon-
like and huge in the blue air, that I grew
more and more fearful. In the grass, amid
the fallen columns and the marble rubbish, lay
some cows, and a mule still grazed there ; it
was a sort of consolation to me, that here were
living creatures which would do me no harm.
The clear moonlight made it almost as bright
as day ; every object shewed itself distinctly.
I heard some one coming was it some one in
search of me ? In my terror I flew into the
100 THE mpBOVISATOBK.
gigantic Colosseum, which lay before me like a
vast mass of rock. I stood in the doable-
vaulted passage which sarrouuds one half of
the building, and is large and perfect as if only
completed yesterday. Here it was quite dork,
and ice-cold. I advanced a few steps from
between the pillars, but softly, very softly, for
the sound ol* my own footsteps made me more
fearful. I saw a fire upon the ground, and
could diBtinguisfa before it the forma of three
human beings: were they peasants who had
here sought out a restJng-place for the night,
that they might not ride over the desolate
THE IMPROVISATOII. 101
walking, trarellers, certainly, who were visiting
these remarkable ruins late in the beautiful
moonlight; a lady, dressed in white, was in
tbe company. Mow I saw distinctly this sin-
gular [Mcture, as it came into view, vanished,
and again shewed itself between the pillars,
lighted by the moonbeams and the red torch
The air was of an infinitely dark blue, and tree
and bush seemed as if made of the blackest
velvet; every leaf breathed night. My eye
followed the strangers. After they were all
gone out of sight, I still saw the red glare of
the torch; but this also vanished, and all
aronnd me was as still as death.
Behind one of the many wooden altars
which stand not far apart within the ruins, and
indicate the resting-points of the Saviour's pro-
gress to the cross, I seated myself upon a fallen
aqpital, which lay in the grass. The stone
was as cold as ice, my head burned, there
was fever in my blood ; I could not sleep, and
there occurred to my mind all that people had
related to me of this old building ; of the
captive Jews who had been made to raise these
huge blocks of stone for the mighty Roman
Co^r; of the wild beasts which, within this
space, had fought with each other, nay, even
with men also, while the people sat upon stone
102 THE IMPROVISATORE.
benches, which ascended, step-like, from the
ground to the loftiest colonnade.*
There was a rustling in the bushes above
me ; I looked up, and fancied that I saw
something moTing. Oh, yes, my imagina-
tion shewed to me pale, dark shapes, which
hewed and builded around me; I heard dis-
tinctly eyery stroke which fell, saw the
meagre, black-bearded Jews tear away grass
and shrubs to pile stone upon stone, till the
whole monstrous building stood there newly
erected ; and now all was one throng of hu-
man beings, head above head, and the whole
THE IMPROVISATORE* 103
feu their burning breath ; saw their red, fiery
glances, and held myself fast upon the stone
^Pon which I was seated, whilst I prayed the
Madonna to save me : but wilder still grew
tne tumult around me ; yet I could see in the
^ulst of all the holy cross as it still stands,
^^i which, whenever I had passed it, I had
Piously kissed. I exerted all my strength,
^d perceived distinctly that I had thrown
^y arms around it ; but every thing that sur-
'oanded me tumbled violendy together
^^^Us, men, beasts. Consciousness had left
^6* I perceived nothing more.
When I again opened my eyes, my fever
^^ over, but I was enfeebled, and as if op-
P'^essed with weariness.
t lay actually upon the steps of the great
^^oden cross. I noticed now all that sur-
'^Unded me; there was nothing at all terrific
^ it ; a deep solemnity lay upon the whole ;
^ ^nightingale sang among the bushes on the
^^11: I thought upon the dear child Jesus,
^Hose mother, now that I had none, was mine
^^^^o, threw my arms around the cross, rested
^^y head against it, and soon sank into a calm,
^^fteshing sleep.
This must have lasted several hours. I was
^"^oke by the singing of a psalm. The sun
104 THE IHPSOVISATORE.
shone upon the highest part of the wall ; the
Capuchine went with harniog tapers from altar
to altar, and sang their " Kyrie eleiMti," in
the beautiful morning^. They stood now around
the cross where I Iy; I saw Fra Martino
bending over me. My forlorn appearance, my
paleness, and my being here at this hour,
made him uneasy. Whether I explained all
to bim I know not ; but my terror of Uoele
Peppo, and my forlorn condition, was clear
enough to him ; I held &8t by his brown cloak,
prayed him not to leave me, and it seemed as
if the brethren sympathised in my misfortune.
THE IMPROVISATORE. 106
At mid-day he brought me radishes, bread,
^nd wine, and said to me, with such solemnity
'^hat my heart trembled within me, '* Poor
lad! if thy mother had lived then, had we not
leen separated; the church would have pos-
sessed thee, and thou wouldest have grown up
in its peace and protection. Now must thou
go forth upon the restless sea, floating upon
an insecure plank ; but think upon thy bleed-
ing Saviour, and on the heavenly Virgin !
Hold fast by them ! Thou hast in the whole
wide world only them ! "
" Where then shall I go?" I asked. And
now he told me that I was to go to the Cam-
pagna, to the parents of Mariuccia, and be-
sought me to honour them as father and
mother, to be obedient to them in all things,
and never to forget my prayers and the learn-
iag which he had given me.
In the evening Mariuccia came with her
^ther to the convent-gate to fetch me ; Fra
^artino led me out to them. With regard to
4ress, Peppo looked almost more respectable
^lian this herdsman, to whom I was now con-
signed. The torn leather bools, the naked
linees, the pointed hat in whieh was stuck a
^prig of flowering heather, were the things
^hich first caught my eye. He knelt down,
f2
106 THE IMPROVIBATORE.
kissed Fra Martino's hand, and said of me
that I was a pretty lad, and that he and his
wife would divide every morsel with me. Ma-
riuccia gave him the parse which contained all
my wealth, and afterwards all four went into
the church ; they prayed silently to them-
selves. I kneeled too, but I conld not pray ;
my eyes sought out all the beloved pictures :
Jesus sailing in the ship, high above the church
door ; the angels in the great altar-piece, and
the holy St. Michael ; even to the death's
heads, with ivy garlands around them, must,
I say, farewell. Fra Martino laid his hand
CHAPTER V.
THE CAMPAGNA.
I'he immense desert which lies around
^*d Rome was now my home. The stranger
^otn beyond the mountains, who, full of love
^^i* art and antiquity, approaches the city of
tci^ Tiber for the first time, sees a vast page of
"^^ world in this parched-up desert ; the iso-
^^^d mounds all here are holy ciphers, entire
^^^pters of the world's history. Painters
*^etch the solitary standing arch of a ruined
^^ueduct, the shepherd who sits under it with
^8 flock figures on the paper ; they give the
&)Iden thistle in the foreground, and people
^y that it is a beautiful picture. With what
an entirely difierent feeling ray conductor
and I regarded the immense plain ! The
barnt-up grass ; the unhealthy summer air,
which always brings to the dwellers of the
108 THE IHPROVI5ATORE.
Cainpngna fevers and lualigDant sickness, vere
doubtless tbe shadow side of his passing observ-
ations. To me there was a somethiDg norel in
all; I rejoiced to see the beautiful mountains,
nhich in every shade of violet-colour inclosed
one side of the plain ; the wild buffalo, and the
yellow Tiber, on whose shore oxen with their
long horns went bending under the yoke, and
drawing the boat gainst the stream. We
proceeded in tbe same direction.
Around us we saw only short, yellow grass,
and tall, half-withered thistles. We passed a
crucifix, which had been raised as a sign that
some one had been murdered there, and near
THE IMPROVISATORS. 109
antiquity of the building, as well as the three
broad buttresses to its after-repairs. Perhaps
It had been used in the middle ages as a fort ;
a hole in the wall above the door served as a
''Window; one half of the roof was cotnposed of
* sort of reed and of twigs, the other half con-
sisted of living bushes, frooivamong which the
honeysuckle hung down in rich masses over
4e broken wall.
''See, here we are!" said Benedetto; and
'^ Was the first word he had said to me on the
'''hole way.
*' Do we live here?" I asked, and looked
^^^ at the gloomy dwelling, now back again
^ the mutilated remains of the robber. With-
^ttt giving me any reply, he called to an
'd woman, "Domenica! Domenica!" and
* ^w an aged woman, whose sole clothing
^i^sisted of a coarse shift, with bare arms and
^Q, and hair hanging loosely. She heaped
^P)n me kisses and caresses ; and, if father
^^nedetto had been silent, she was only the
^ore talkative ; she called me her little Ish-
^*^^el, who was sent out into the desert, where
^ wild thistles grow. " But thou shalt not
^ famished with us !" said she. ** Old Do-
^^nica will be to thee a good mother in the
^We of her who now prays for thee in heaven !
110 TBB lUPnOVISATOBB.
And I have made thy bed ready for thee,
and the beans are boiled, and my old Bene-
detto and thou shalt sit down to table toge-
ther ! And Mariuccia is not then come with
you? And thou hast seen the holy &tber?
Yet hast not forgotten some presciutto, nor the
brass-hook, nor the new picture of the Ms-
donna, for us to paste on the door beside the
old one, which is black with oar kissing. No,
tliou art a man who canst remember, who
canst think, my own Benedetto!"
Thus she proceeded with a torrent of words,
and led us into the small room, which wai
calleti tlie clianiber. but which afterwards
THE IMPROVISATORE. Ill
Md pans, and a third was tbe fireplace, where
the beaus were cooked.
Domenica prepared the table and Benedetto
blessed the food ; when we had had enough, the
old mother took me up a ladder, through the
woken vault in the wall, to the second story,
^here we all slept in two great niches which
bad once been graves. In the farthest was the
bed which was prepared for me ; beside of it
stood two posts supporting a third, from which
swung a sort of cradle, made of sail-cloth, for a
little child ; I fancy Mariuccia's : it was quite
still. I laid myself down ; a stone had fallen
wit of the wall, and through the opening I
could see the blue air without, and the dark
i^y which, like a bird, moved itself in the
'rind. As I laid myself down, there ran a
thick, bright-coloured lizard over the wall, but
Domenica consoled me by saying that the poor
httle creature was more afraid of me than I of
|t; it would do me no harm ! and, after repeat-
^^g over me an Ave Maria, she took the cradle
^^er into the other niche where she and Bene-
^^tto slept. I made the sign of the holy cross,
^bought on my mother, on the Madonna, on
^y Hew parents, and on the executed robber's
Woody hand and foot which I had seen near
112 THE IHPROVISATOBE.
the house, and tbe^e all mingled strangely in
ray dreams this first night.
The next day began with rain, which conti-
nued for a whole weiik, and imprisoned as in
the narrow room, in which was a half twilight,
mithoagh the door stood open when the wind
hlew the rain the other way. I had to rock
the baby which lay in the cradle. Domenica
spun with her spindle ; told me tales of the
robbers of the Campagna, who, however, did
no harm ; sang pious songs to me, taught me
new prayers, and related to me new l^ends of
saints which I had not heard before. Onions
and bread weri? our customary food, and I
THE IMPROVISATOR B. 113
^^d the tombstones with the garlanded
l^eads.
When the rainy season was over, the heavens
stewed for whole months their unchangeable
Wue. I then obtained leave to go out, but not
^^o fer, nor too near to the river, because the
soft ground might so easily fall in with me,
taid Domenica; many buffaloes also grazed
tiiere, which were wild and dangerous, but,
^nevertheless, those had for me a peculiar and
strange interest. The something demon-like in
^e look of the buffalo the strange, red fire
^hich gleamed in its eyeballs, awoke in me a
^ling like that which drives the bird into the
^ngs of the snake. Their wild running, swifter
^an the speed of a horse, their mutual com-
ets, where force meets with force, attracted
^y whole attention. I scrawled figures in the
^nd to represent what I had seen, and, to make
^i the more intelligible, I sang it all in its
^Wn peculiar words to its own peculiar melody,
^ the great delight of old Domenica, who said
^*t I was a wise child, and sang as sweetly as
^uc angels in heaven.
The sun burnt hotter day by day ; its beams
^re like a sea of fire which streamed over the
^^pagna. The stagnant water infected the
^^ ; we could only go out in the morning and
1 14 THE mPROTLSATOKZ.
evn:nz ; sach beat as this I htd not known in
Tldme npon the ainr Monte Pincio, althoogfa I
well remembered then the hot time when the
beegars bad prayed for a small coin, not for
bread, bat for a glass of iced water. I thought
in partienlar aboat the delicioos, green water-
melons which lay one on another, divided b
halves, and shewed the porple-red flesh with
the black seeds ; mr lips were doubly parched
with thinking of these ! The son burned pei^
pendicolarly ; my shadow seemed as if it would
Tanish under my feet. The bo&loes lay like
dead masses upon the bnmt-np grass, or, ez-
THE IMPROVISATORE. 115
^d mbbish, tasted sour and half boiled, and
not a cloud, not a single cloud, was to be seen on
"e horizon, day and night always the ever-
lasting, never-changing blue. Every evening
*nd morning we prayed for rain, or else a fresh
breeze; every evening and morning, Domenica
looked to the mountains to see if no cloud raised
^Mf, but night alone brought shade the
^Itry shade of night ; the sirocco alone blew
through the hot atmosphere for two long, long
Jnonths.
At the sun's rise aad setting alone was there
^ breath of fresh air ; but a dulness, a death-
Uke lethargy produced by the heat, and the
%htful weariness which it occasioned, op-
pressed my whole being. This and all kind of
tormenting insects, which seemed destroyed by
tie heat, awoke at the first breath of air to
doubled life ; they fell upon us in myriads
^ith their poison-stings ; the buffaloes often
'^ked as if they were covered over with this
bozzing swarm, which beset them as if they
^ere carrion, until, tormented to madness,
they betook themselves to the Tiber, and rolled
^^maelves in the yellow water. The Roman
^bo in the hot summer days groans in the
^'^ost expiring streets, and crawls along by the
boose-sides, as if he would drink up the shadow
1 16 THE IMPK0VI9AT08E.
which is cast down from tlie walls, liu still no
idea of the Bufferinge in the Campogua, where
even- breath which he draws is sulpburon^
poisonouK fire ; where insects and crawling
things, like demons, torment htm who is coo-
demned to live in this sea of flame.
September brought with it milder days, it
sent out also Federigo one evening to make
sketcltes of the bumed-up landscape. He drew
onr singular house, the gallows, and the wild
bufialoes. He gave me ^wper and pencils, that
I also might draw pictures, and promised that
when he came next time he would take me
II
THE III PROVISilTORE. 117
beaven, seemed to me moantains of felicity, in
^bose valleys the beautiful angels played and
Bned cool breezes with their white wings.
One evening as I sat sunk in my reveries, I
found that I could gaze on the sun by looking
^ixugh a finely pricked leaf. Domenica said
^at it would injure my eyes, and, to put an end
^ the sport, she fastened the door. The time
^^nt on wearily ; I prayed her to let me go
^t, and, as she consented, I sprang up gladly,
^d opened the door, but at the same moment
& man darted in so suddenly, that I was thrown
^ the ground ; with equal speed he closed the
^oor again : scarcely had I perceived his pale,
Stated countenance, and heard him in a tone
^f distress utter the name of the Madonna,
^hen a violent blow so shattered the door, that
'^ gave way and fell inward, and the whole
Opening was filled with the head of a bu&lo,
^liich glared upon us with his malicious^ fiery
Domenica gave a scream, seized me by the
^'"Bi, and sprang up several steps of the ladder
^kich led to the upper room. The stranger,
^^ as death, cast his eyes timidly around him,
^d perceiving Benedetto's gun, which, in case
^f nocturnal inroads, always hung on the wall
^^y-charged, he seized it in a moment. I
118 TQB IHPR0V18AT0BB.
heard the report, and saw id the ctoad of smoke
hovr he had shot the beast through the fore-
head. It stood immovably there, sqaeesed
into the narrow doorway, and conld neither
come forward nor be moved backward.
'* But, all ye saints ! " exclaimed Domenica,
*' what have yon done? You have really taken
the life of the beast!"
" Blessed be Madonna ! " replied the stran-
ger ; " she has saved my life, and thou woat
my good angel ! " said he, lifting me from
the ground. " Thon openedst the door of
salvation for me ! " He was yet quite pala
THE IMPROVISATORE. 119
** Holy Maria, pray for us ! " exclaimed
Domenica; **yes, she has saved you, the holy
Mother of God ! and my little Antonio was one
of her elect ! yes, she loves him ! xcellenza
does not know what a child that is ! read can
.^e, every thing, whether it is printed or writ-
ten ! and draw so naturally, that one can see
directly whatever it is meant for. The dome
of St. Peter's, the buffaloes^ ay, even fat
P&ther Ambrosius, has he drawn ; and then for
^^ voice ! Excellenza should hear him sing ;
^e Pope's singers could not excel him ; and
^des that, he is a good child, a strange child.
I would not praise him when he is present,
^U8e children cannot bear praise ; but he
deserves it ! "
" He is, then, not your own son ? " inquired
we stranger ; " he is too young for that."
**And I am too old," replied she. ** No, an
oU fig-tree has no such little heart-shoots ; the
P^r child has no other father and mother in
^"C world than me and my Benedetto. But
^^ will not part with him, even when we have
^^t a stiver left of the money ! But then. Holy
'^irgiQi" said she, interrupting herself, and
^ng hold of the horns of the bufialo, from
^^ head of which the blood streamed into the
roouij " we must have this beast away ! one can
120 THE IlfPBOVIBATOItB.
neither come in nor go out. Ah, yes ! it is
jammed in quite fast. We can't get out before
Benedetto comes. If it only do not bring as
into trouble that the beast is killed !"
" You may be quite easy, good woman," aaid
the stranger; " I will answer for all. You
have beard, perhais, of the Borghese t"
" O Principe ! " exclaimed Domenica, and
kissed his clothes ; but he pressed her bend,
and took mine between his, as he desired ber
to take me in the morning to Rome, to the
Boi^hese Palace, where he lived, and to which
family he belonged. Tears filled the eyea of
THE IMPROTISATORB. 121
^^^^ pencil. Now, sing for Excellenza !" said
she to me ; " sing as well as thou canst, with
^y own words! Yes, he can put together
^*^^le histories and sermons as well as any
^^^k ! Nay, let us hear ! Excellenza is a
?^iiou8 gentleman, he wishes it, and thou
KDo^est how to keep tune."
The stranger smiled, and amused himself
^^^h OS both. That Domenica should think
^Y improvisation quite a masterpiece was a
^"ing of course : but what I sang, and how, I
'Member not, and yet that the Madonna, Excel-
'nza, and the buffalo, were the poetical triad of
^'^^ whole, I recollect distinctly. Excellenza
^t silent, and Domenica read in this silence
*^nishment at my genius. .
** Bring the boy with you," were the first
^crtis which he spoke. " I will expect you early
^^^OQorrow moniing. Yet, no come in the
^^'^tiing, an hour before the Ave Maria. When
y^U. come, my people shall be instructed imme-
^^tely to admit you. But how am I to get out?
"^ve you any other mode of exit than this
^^ere the beast lies? and how shall I, without
^y danger from the buffaloes, get to my car-
^eatPonteMolle?"
*' Yes, getting out," said Domenica ; " there
^ no possibility of that for Excellenza. I can,
VOL. I. G
122 TH^ IHPROV18ATOBB.
to be sure, and so can the rest of us ; bat :
no way for such a great gentleman ! Ab
here there is a hole where one can creep
and then slide down quite well ; that even I
do in my old age! bat it is, as I said,
quite the thing for strangers and grand gen
folks!"
Excellenza moanted in the meantime up
narrow steps, stuck his head through the 1
in the wall, and declared it was as good a
as the steps of the Capitol. The bufilkloes
betaken tbemaelves long ago to the Tiber,
on the road, not &r from ue, went a crow
CHAPTER VI.
THE VISIT IN THE BORGHESE PALACE END OP
THE HISTORY OF MY CHILDHOOD.
Bekedbtto and a couple of herdsmen after-
^^ds removed the animal from the doorway ;
^Pe was a great talking and gossiping, but
^t which I distinctly remember was, that
'^cxt morning, before break of day, I was awake
^d up, because towards evening I was going
^^ the city with Domenica. My Sunday clothes,
^hich had lain for many months under lock
^d key, were now brought out, and a lovely
rose was fastened into my little hat. My shoes
^re the worst part of my habiliments, and it
^ould have been a difficult thing to decide
^liether they were that which they were called
^^ Were not rather a pair of antique Roman
sandals.
How long was it across the Campagna now,
*^d how the sun burned ! Never in later
L
124 THE IMPBOTtSATORE.
times has the irine of Falemia and Cjrprus
tasted more delicious to me than the water
wliich novr poured from the mouth of the stone
lion in the Piazzo del Popolo.* I pressed mj
warm cheek to the jaws of the lion, and let the
water spout over my head, to the great horror
of Domenica, since by so doing my dress was
wet and my hair disorderly. In the meantime
we strolled down the Via Ripetta, towards the
Borghese Palace. How often hefore now had
J, and Domenica no less, gone past this build-
ing witlioat regarding it otherwise than any
other indifierent object : but now we stood and
THB IMPROVISATORE. 125
We knew Excellenza within there ; he was
actually at our house yesterday; that gave a
peculiar interest to the whole. I shall never
fiii^et the strange tremour which the pomp of
the building and of the rooms produced in me ;
I had talked quite familiarly with Excellenza ;
he was, in reality, a human being like all the
'est of us ; but all this possession, this magnifi-
cence! yes, now I was aware of the glory
^hich separated the holy from mankind. In
4e centre of the palace four lofty whitewashed
colonnades, filled with statues and busts, in-
dosed a little garden ;* tall aloes and cactuses
pew up the pillars ; citron-trees stood there
^th grass-green fruit which was not yet yel-
lowed by the sun. Two dancing Bacchantes
Md a water-bowl aloft, but so obliquely that
the water streamed upon their shoulders ; tall
^ater.plants drooped over them their juicy,
Peeu leaves. How cool, green, and fragrant,
^as every thing here in comparison with the
sterile, bumt-up, burning Campagna !
^e ascended the broad marble steps. Beau-
t^W statues stood in niches, before one of which
^omenica knelt, and piously made the sign of
* ^ little garden has been since then altered into a
%ged court iltt^or'* NoU,
126 T0S IMPROTISATORE.
the cross. She thought that it iras the Ma-
donna ; afterwards I learned that it was Vesta,
tlie holy Tirgin also of a more ancient time.
Servants in rich livery received ns ; they met
us BO kindly that my fear wonld somewhat
hare abated had not the hall been so large and
so magnificent ! The floor was of marble, as
smooth as glass, and on all the walls bong
beautiful pictures ; and where these were not
the nails were covered with lookin^^lass, and
painted with angels that bore garlands aod
sprays of flowers, and with beautiful Inrds that
extended their Inxtad wings and pecked at red
II
THE IMPROVISATORfi. 127
frne, is it not ? You would not like to part
with him?"
'^ No ; that would be the same as blocking
^p the door and window of my little house !
then it would be dark and lonesome ; no, I
can't part with the sweet child !"
" Bat foe this one evening/' said the lady,
'^he can stop some hours with us, and then
you can fetch him ; you have beautiful moon-
light to go back in, and you are not araid of
robbers?"
''Yts, the boy stops here for an hour, and
yoQ, in die meantime, can go and buy one
thing and another that you have need of at
^me/' said Excellenza, and thrust a little
purse into Domenica's liand. I heard no more,
for the lady took me with her into the hall,
^ left him and the old mother together.
The rich splendour, the high-born company,
9^te dazzled me ; now I looked at the smiling
^^I-children that peeped forth from among
^c green vine-leaves on the walls ; now on the
^olet-9tockinged senators and the red-legged
^^nals, who had always appeared to me as a
^^ of demi-gods, but in whose circle I seemed
^^to be received. But, above all, my eye was
^tracted to the beautiful Cupid which, like a
'ovely child, rode upon the ugly dolphin, which
128 THB IUPR0VI8AT0RB.
threw up two great streams of water, that fell
back again into the basin in which it swam ia
the middle of the hall.
The high-bred company, nay, even the c&r-
dinals and senators, smiled to me a welcome^
and a young, liandsome man, dressed as an
ofiicer of the papal guard, extended to me his
hand, when the young lady introduced me as
her uncle's good angel. They asked me a
thousand questions, to which I readily replied,
and soon resounded laughter and the dapping
of hands, Excellenza came op, and stud that
I must sing them a song, which I did willingly.
THE IMPROVISATORE. 129
JSt, yet I regarded it as sober earnestness as
a homage whicli made me happy, and made
this the brightest moment of my life. I sang
to them the songs which Mariuccia and Dome-
oica had taught me ; described to them the
kicked eyes of the buffaloes and our room in
the ruined tomb. Only too quickly passed
the time ; I must now go home again with my
old foster-mother. Laden with cakes, fruit,
and several silver coins, I followed her : she
^as as happy as I was ; had made many pur-
chases; articles of clothing, cooking- vessels,
and two great bottles of wine. The evening
^as infinitely beautiful. The night slumbered
^pon trees and shrubs, but high above us hung
^^^ full moon, which, like a lovely golden
^t in the far outspread dark blue sea of
*'^ sent down coolness over the burnt-up
Campa^na.
' thought upon the rich saloon, the kind
Hv,and the many applauding claps ; dreamed,
"Oth waking and sleeping, the same delicious
"^m, which was speedily to be reality beau-
^""1 reality.
More than once was I fetched to Rome. The
*^*'ly, friendly lady, amused herself with my
l**'culiar turn ot mind ; she made me tell her
^'^Malk to her just as I did to old Domenica;
g2
130 THE lUPROVIBATOBS.
she had great delight in it, and praised me b
Kxcellcnza. He, too, was kind to me, doabl;
kind, inasmnch as he was the innocent caoa
of my mother's death ; for he it was who ea
in the carriage when the runaway horses passe
over her head. The beautiful lady was calle
Francesca ; she often took me with her int
the rich picture-gallery which the Boi^hes
Palace contained ; my naive questions an
obserrations on the glorious pictures made be
smile ; she told them again to others, and a
laughed with her. la the mornings the ha
was filled with strangers, who came from h
THE IMPROYISATORE. 131
upon it. In summer they fle\r among the
green trees which were loaded with fruit, which
they plucked. They swam in the fresh water,
and played with it. Autumn brought the plea-
sures of the chase. Cupid sits with a torch
in his hand, in his little chariot, which two of
his comrades draw ; whilst Love beckons to
the brisk hunter, and shews him the place
where they can rest themselves side by side.
Winter has lulled all the little ones to sleep ;
sooudly and fast they lie slumbering around.
The Nymphs steal their quivers and arrows,
which they throw on the fire, that there may
be an end of the dangerous weapons.
Why angels were called Loves? why they
Went about shooting ? yes, there were many
things of which I wanted to have a plainer
^xplanatioa than Francesca at this moment
gave me.
"Thou must read thyself about them," said
^he ; " there is a great deal with which thou
Xnust become acquainted, but the beginning is
^ot attractive ! The whole day long thou must
^it on a bench with thy book, not play with
Xhe goats in the Campagna, or go here and
there looking after thy little friends ! Which
now shouldst thou like best, either to ride with
a helniet and sword beside the coach of the
132 THE IMPROTIBATORE.
holy &ther, and wear s fine suit of armour
from head to foot, like that in which thoa hast
seen Fabiani, or to understand all the beoa-
tifu) pictures which thou Geest here, know the
whole world around thee, and a thousand his-
tories far more beautiful than those which I
have told thee?"
" But can I then never again come to
thee?" asked I; "can I not live with good
Domenica?"
" Dost thou still remember thy mother, thj
dear home with her? Then thoo desiredest
ever to remain there ; thought not of Oome-
now wc arc twlii of i:
THE IMPROVISATORE. 133
good in the world. Now came Excellenza,
and the young officer with him, who had placed
the garland on my head the first time I had
JraproTJsed before him. He was called Fa-
Wani, and was also very fond of me.
" There is a marriage, a splendid marriage
at the Villa Borghese," was shouted some
evenings afterwards, till it reached Domenica's
poor house on the Campagna. Francesca was
^e bride of Fabiani, and must now, in a few
^ays, accompany him to his seat near Florence.
The marriage was celebrated at the Villa
Borghese, just in the neighbourhood of Rome,
^ the beautiful thick grove of laurels and ever-
?feen oaks, where the lofty pines, winter and
^ttinmer, lift up their perpetually bright green
^^owns into the blue air. Then, as now, was
that grove a place of recreation for the Romans,
^ ^ell as for strangers. Rich equipages rolled
along the thick oak-alleys; white swans swam
^^ the still lakes, within which the weeping
^"low was mirrored, and where artificial cas-
hes fell over blocks of stone. High-breasted
*^oman women, with flashing eyes, rolled forth
^^ the festival, and looked proudly down upon
t"e life-enjoying peasant-girl, who danced upon
"6 highway to the music of her tambourine.
'^W Domenica went with me all the long way
134 TB lUPBOTISATOSB.
across the Campagna, that we also might b
together at the bridal of oar bene&ctrew
Outside the garden, Trhere the tall aloes gre*
up like espaliers along the white wall, we stoo
and saw the lights shine in the windowi
Francesca aod Fabiani were married. Froi
the saloon came forth to as the sound of mnsic
and from the green plun, on which th
amphitheatre was erected, rockets mountet
and beautiM fireworks played in the blue ai
The shadows of a lad; and gentleman wei
seen on the cnrtains of one of the lofty window
" It is be and she ! " said Domenica. Tb
THE IMPBOVISATORE. 135
'' It is now for the last time/' said the old
mother, " that we two, whilst my eyes are yet
open, shall go together over the Campagna!
Thy feet will tread on polished floors, and on
gay carpets ; these old Domenica has not : but
thou hast been a good child ; thou wilt remain
so, and never forget me and poor Benedetto !
Oh, Grod! yet can a dish of roasted chesnuts
make thee happy? Thou shalt sit and blow
up the reeds, and I will see God's angel in thy
eyes, when the reeds burn, and the poor ches-
xmts roast; so glad wilt thou never more be
with so small a gift ! The thistles of the Cam-
pagna bear yet red flowers ; upon the polished
floors of the rich there grow no straws, and the
ground is smooth, one falls so easily -there!
Never forget that thou- wast a poor child, my
little Antonio. Remember that thou must see
^nd not see, hear and not hear ; then thou wilt
get through the world. Some day, when our
*^rd has called away me and Benedetto, when
^^e little child which thou hast rocked goes
creeping through life with a poor partner in
^^^ Campagna, thou wilt, perhaps, then go
P^t in thy own chariot, or on a fine horse ;
^^'t thou before the old tomb-chamber where
thou hast slept, played, and lived with us, and
thou wilt see strangers living there, who will
]36 TUE IMPR0TI8AT0RE.
bow tliemselves deeply before thee. Haughty
thou wilt not be, but think upon old times,
think upon old Domenica! Look in at the
place where the chesnuts were cooked, and
where thou rockedst the little child. Thoa wilt
think upon thy own poor childhood, thon
heart's darling child !" With this she kissed
me, and clasped me closely to her breast and
wept : it seemed to me as if my heart would
break .
Our return home and her words were to me
far more distressing than our parting even
somewhat later ; then she said nothing, bat
CHAPTER VII.
^HOOL-LIFE HABBA8 DAHDAH DIVINA
COMBDIA THE SENATOR'S NEPHEW.
SiGNOKA had journeyed away with her hus-
^*^d; I was become a scholar in the school
^ the Jesuits ; new occupations engrossed me ;
^^^ "acquaintances presented themselves ; the
"^matical portion of my life begins to unfold
Itself. Here years compress themselves toge-
^^i"; every hour is rich in change, a whole
^y^le of pictures, which, now seen from a
^^^^nt point of view, melt together into one
S^'^at painting my school-life. As it is to
^^ stranger who for the first time ascends the
^^untains, and now looks down from above
^^^r a sea of clouds and mist, which, by
^gi'ees, raises itself or separates, so that now
fountain-top with a city peeps forth ; now
^^e son-illumined part of a valley reveals itself.
L
cits '''Vv=.*^*t- '""* *^
THE IMPROVISATORE. 139
Iwtt of their jests. We had ours, as well as
My other club, and ours was the most solemn,
tte most grumbling, growling, preaching of
^u*Iequins, and, on that account, the most
wquisite. The Abbe Habbas Dahdah, an
Arab by descent, but educated from his earliest
cbiklhood in the papal jurisdiction, was at this
e the guide and director of our taste, the
2B8thetical head of the Jesuit school, nay, of the
Academia Tiberina.
In later years I have often reflected on
poetry, that singular, divine inspiration. It
appears to me like the rich gold ore in the
iQoantains ; refinement and education are the
wise workmen who know how to purify it.
Sometimes purely unmixed ore-dust is met
with, the lyrical improvisation of the poet by
nature. One vein yields gold, another silver;
but there are also tin, and even more ordinary
metals found, which are not to be despised^
and which sometimes can, with polishing and
adorning, be made to look like gold and silver.
According to these various metals I now rank
my poets, as golden, silver, copper, and iron
men. But after these comes a new class^ who
only work in simple potter's clay the poet-
asters yet who desire as much to be admitted
to the true guild. Habbas Dahdah was one of
140 THE IMPROTIBATOBE.
these, and had juBt ability Bufficient to make a
sort of n'are, which with a kind of poetical
facility he overwhelmed people, with whom,
as regarded deep feeling and poetical spint,
lie could not meaeiire himself. Easy, flexile
verses, and the artistical formation of them, bo
that they only brought before the eye existences,
hearts, and other such things, obtained from
him admii'ation and applause.
It might be, therefore, perhaps only the very
peculiar melody of Petrarch's sonnets that
attracted him to this poet. Perhaps, also, only
fashion, or a fixed idea, a bright gleam in the
THE IMPROVISATORE. 141
'option ; and among the very greatest of these
that Dante, who set heaven, earth, and hell,
^ movement to obtain immortality, which
Petrarch has already won by a single little
sonnet is disgusting, very disgusting ! To be
sure he could write veree ! It is these billows
of sound which carry his Tower of Babel to the
latest age. If he had only followed his first
plan, and had written in Latin, he would have
snewn study ; but that was inconvenient to
l^im, and so he wrote in the vulgate which we
^ow have. * It is a stream,' says Boccaccio,
* through which a lion can swim, and a Iamb
^ay walk.' I find not this depth and this
^J'nplicity. There is in him no right founda-
^0Q an eternal swaying between the past and
*^e present ! But Petrarch, .that apostle of
the truth, did not exhibit his fury with the
^^ by placing a dead pope or emperor in
^" ; he stood in his time like the Chorus in
^ Oreek tragedy, a male Cassandra, warning
^^ V^laming popes and princes. Face to face
^^^red to say to Charles the Fourth, ' One
^^ ^e in thee that virtues are not heritable!'
^^^n Rome and Paris wished to ofier him the
S'^'Wid, he turned to his contemporaries with
^ ^oble self-consciousness, and bade them to
d^^We aloud whether he were worthy to be
142 THE lUPROTISATOBE.
crowned as a poet. For three days he an'
mitted to an examination as if he were a regnli
schoolboy like you, before lie wouM aseei
the Capitol, where the King of Naples hoi
around him the purple mantle, and the Ronu
senate gave to him the laurel crown whit
Dante never obtained."
Such was every oration which he made,
elevate Petrarch and depreciate Dante, instei
of placing the noble pair side by side, like tl
fragrant night-violet and the blooming roc
We had to leam all his sonnets by heart, i
Dante we read not a word ; and I only learn
THE mPROVISATOSB. 143
maccaroni-swallowers. Madonnas with the
swond m the bleeding heart, and suchlike
highly dissimilar things. A single yolume of
Ketistasio drew my attention ; I had a paolo
in my pocket a great sum for me, and the last
remains of the scudi which Excellenza had
given me half a year before for pocket-money.
1 was willing to expend a few bajocci* on
Metastasio, but I could not separate myself
^m my whole paolo. The bargain was nearly
dosed, when my eyes caught a titlepage,
"Divina Comedia di Dante" my forbidden
^t of the tree of the knowledge of good and
evil ! I threw down Metastasio and seized the
o^er ; but the price of this was too high for
^e, three paoli I could not raise. I turned the
^ney in my hand till it burned like fire, but
It would not double itself, and I could only
heat down the seller to that price. This was
^ hest book in Italy the first poetical work
^ the world, he said, and a stream of eloquence
^^er Dante, the depreciated Dante of Habbas
*^*hdah, poured from the lips of the honest
Bum,
*' Every leaf," said he, " is as good as a
A scudi contains ten paolo, and a paoli ten bajocci ;
^ last are copper coins, the other silver. Authors
144 THB IHFROTIB1.T0BI.
He is a propbetof God, under whose
guidance one passes through the flames of hell,
and through the eternal paradise. You do not
know him, younggentleman ! or otherwise joa
would immediately give the price if I asked a
scudi for him ! For yoar whole life long yon
hare then the most beautiful book of the
iatherland, and that for two poor pool! I"
Ah! I would willingly have given three if I
had but bad them, but now it was with me
as with the fox and the sour grapes; I also
would shew my wisdom, and retailed a part of
Habbae Dahdah's oration against Dante, whilst.
THE IMPROTISATORE. 145
condemn the pride of Italy, her beloved, divine
Dante.
how bappy that book made me ! It was
BOW my own, my own for ever. I had always
cherished a doubt of the bitter judgment of
Habbas Dahdah ; my curiosity and the warmth
of the bookseller excited me in the highest
^^ee, so that I could hardly wait for the
foment when, unseen by others, I could begin
the book.
A new life was now opened to me ; my
"Agination found in Dante an undiscovered
America, where nature operated on a larger and
^ore luxuriant scale than I had before seen,
^here were more majestic mountains, a richer
P^Djp of colour. I took in the great whole,
^i suflFered and enjoyed with the immortal
*^Dger. The inscription over the entrance to
hell rung within me, during my wandering
^ith him below, like the tolling for the last
judgment :
^ Through me ye enter the abode of woe ;
Through me to endless sorrow are ye brought ;
Through me amid the souls accurst ye go.
Justice did first iny lofty Maker move :
By power Almighty was my fabric wrought.
By highest wisdom, and by primal love."*
Wright's Dante.
VOL. I. H
146 THE IMPKOVI8ATORB.
I san- in that air, ever black, like tbe aand
of the desert which is wliiiled by the tempest,
the race of Adam foiling like leaves in autumn,
whilst lamenting spirits howled in the torrent
of air. Tears filled my eyes at the aighl of
noble, lofty beings who, unpartidpants (tf
Christianity, had here their abode. Homer,
Socrates, Brutus, Virgil, and many otherg, the
noblest and best of antiquity, were here, for ever
remote from Paradise. It was not enough for
me that Dante had made every thing as com-
fortable and well as it could be in hell.
Existence there was yet a grief withoat
THE IMPROVISATORE. 147
^Inscriptions stamped themselves deeply on my
sou\ and mingled in my ideas by day and my
l*^am8 by night. Often when I slept they
heajrd me exclaim, '^ Pape Satan, alepp Satan
I^^I^e !" They &ncied that I had combats with
^e Devily and it was reminiscences of that
^hich I had read that I repeated.
In the hoars of instruction my mind wan-
dered^a thousand ideas thronged in upon me.
With the utmost willingness to do so, I could
not drive them away. " What art thou think-
^^?of, Antonio?" they exclaimed to me; and
^^iJae and terror overwhelmed me, for I knew
^^ry well what I was thinking of, but to
^^e Dante, and not to finish wandering, was
^ ^e impossible.
^he day seemed to me long and oppressive,
^^ the gilded mantle of lead which the hypo-
cnte was compelled to wear in the hell of
^^te. With uneasiness of heart I crept to
^y forbidden fruit, and drew in images of
."^Or, which punished me for my imagined
"^^^ Nay, I felt even the sting of the snakes
^lie pit, which stung and writhed about in
"*^Xkes, wherefrom they, revivified like the
P^^^Qiz, ascended again to spit out their poison.
^he other scholars who slept in the same
^^^^m with me were often awoke in the night
14o THE IHPROVI8AT0BE.
by my cries, and told of my strange, dis-
connected talk, about bell and the dsmnfid.
The old custodian had seen one morniog, to
his terror, that I had raised myself up in bed,
Tvith my eyes open, yet fast asleep, called upon
Lucifer, and wrestled with him, until quite
exhausted I had sunk back on the pillow.
It was now the uniyersally received opinion
that I had combats with the Evil One ; my bed
was sprinkled with holy water, I was enjoined
to repeat a certain number of prayers before I
laid myself in bed. Nothing could operate
more injuriously on my health than exactly
THE IMPROVISATORE. 149
'uted to him, and that mostly with justice,
^t Was wished that the stillness and repose of
the convent might be diffused over us and the
whole building, but Bernardo was the disturb-
^^S Kobold, yet he never shewed himself to be
^^licious. It was only with regard to Habbas
Dahdah that he played a little with the black
flouring, and then these two were always on
bad terms. But this did not annoy Bernardo.
" was the nephew of a senator of Rome, was
possessed of great wealth, and had brilliant
Prospects in life, " for Fortune," said Habbas
I^ahdah, "threw her pearls into the hollow
""^es and passed over the slender pines."
fiernardo had his determined opinion in
^^^ thing ; and when, among his school com-
I^ions, he could not make his word effective,
^ hands came to his service, in order to in-
^^Uate his sap-green ideas upon the back of
^^ refractory ; he was always, therefore, the
^^inant spirit. Although we were of natures
^^tremely dissimilar, there still existed be-
^en us the best understanding. I was, to
^^ Sure, always the one who yielded, but even
^s gave him occasion to deride me.
** Antonio !" said he, " I would cudgel you
I only knew that, by so doing, I could excite
^ little gall in you. If you would only for
150 THE IHPROVISATORE.
onco shew some character strike me in the
fitce will) your clenched fist when I laogh at
you, tlien I could be your most &ithfnl friend ;
but now I must give up every hope of you!"
One morning, when we were alone toother
in the great hall, he seated himself upon the
table before me, looked into my face, langbing,
and said,
" You are, however, a greater villain than
I ! You play, indeed, an excellent comedy I
For this, folks have their bed sprinkled, and
their persons fumed. If you yon do not guess
why, I do. You read Dante's ' Comedia ! ' "
THE IMPROVISATORE. 151
SDnk up to the breast in ice, with outstretched
Jftws, in which he holds fast Bratus, Cassias,
and Judas Iscariot ; and this last has his head
downwards, whilst the grim Lucifer shakes
" monstrous bat's wings. See, my son, when
^6 has once seen the fellow, one does not
^^ soon forget him. I made acquaintance
With him in Dante's hell ; and you have
described him to a hair this night, in your
Bleep. Therefore, I say to you, how it is you
^ve been reading Dante ; but then you were
^Hester than now. You bode me be silent,
^ mentioned by name our amiable Habbas
-"^ahdah. Confess it only, now you are awake !
^ ^ill not betray you. That is at last some-
^g in you that I can like. Yes, yes, I had
**'^ays a sort of hope of you. But how have
yu got hold of the book? From me you
l^ht have had it; I possessed myself of it
J"*^ediately, for, when Habbas Dahdah spoke
^ of it I conceived the idea that it was worth
tK
^^ trouble of reading. The thick volume re-
P*l^ly terrified me ; but, that I might laugh
^^ liim, I took it in hand, and now I am
f^^ding it for the third time. Is not hell bril-
*^^t? Where do you think that Habbas
"^Iwlah will go ? He may do with either hot
^^ cold!"
152 THE lUFBOVlSATORE.
My secret -was now betrayed ; but I cooM
depend od Bernardo's silence. A more confi-
dential connexion was knit between us. Oar
conversation, when we were alone, turned upon
the " DiviiiK Coniedia ; " that occupied and in-
spired uie ; and I mnst converse on that whidt
employed my soul and my thoughts. " Dante,
and his immortal work," was, therefore, the
first of my poems which I wrote down.
In my edition of the " Div'ina Comedia,"
there was a life of the author, a mere sketch,
to be eure, but sufficient to enable me to com-
prehend his peculiar character. I sang of pure.
thb'improvisatore. 153
^Wlst the mountains around trembled as the
purified soul ascended to paradise, where the
^on and all the angels, like mirrore, reflected
^"G beams of the Eternal God ; where all was
"^^88, and where the lowest as well as the
^'ghest, participated equally of happiness, ac-
cording to the degree in which every heart
^old comprehend it.
Bernardo heard my poem, and considered it
i^he a masterpie(;p. " Antonio," said he,
* you must repeat that at the festival. It will
^^x Habbas Dahdah ! It is splendid ! Yes,
r^s, this, and none other shall you repeat !*'
I made a movement of dissent.
**How?" exclaimed he, '*you will not?
^*ien I will ! I will torment him with the im-
^*^ortal Dante. Glorious Antonio, give me your
P^m. I will repeat it. But then it must
^'^ly be given to me ! Will you not be un-
^'Uing to give up your beautiful plumage to
^^k out the jackdaw ? You are really an in-
^naparably good-natured fellow ; and this will
^^ beautiful act in you 1 You will consent?"
How willingly would I oblige him; how
'^lliugiy even would I see the fun ! There did
^^ Heed much persuasion.
*^ was at this time the custom in the Jesuit
h2
154 THE IHPROTISATOBE.
school, as now in the Propaganda in the
Spanish square, that on the I3th of January,
*' in onore del sancti re magi" that the greater
part of the scholars made speeches in public ;
either a poem in one of the rarioiiB languages
-which was taught here, or in that of his home
or native country. We ourselves could moke
choice of the subject, which was onlysabmit-
tcd to the censorship of oar teacher, after
which we were permitted to work it out.
" And you, Bernardo," asked Habhas
Dahdah, on the day on which we annouaeed
our themes " you, Bernardo, have not chosen
THE IMPROVISATORE. 155
^iit on : but Bernardo was not to be put off
^^ this way, and obtained permission from the
^ther teachers.
Every one now had his theme ; mine was
the beauty of Italy.
Each scholar was expected wholly to work
out his subject himself; but a sure way of
winning over Habbas Dahdah, and diffusing a
sort of sunshine over his badrweather coun-
tenance, was to give him a poem to read
through, and to ask from him assistance and
advice; in that case, he commonly worked
the whole poem over again, botched and
mended it, so that it remained as bad as at
first, only in a different way ; and, if it so
happened that a stranger praised the poem, he
would let fall the remark, that there were a
few sparkles of his own wit which had polished
away the rough, &c. &c.
My poem on Dante, which was now Ber-
nardo's, he never saw.
At length the day came. The carriages
rolled up to the gate ; the old cardinals, in
their red cloaks with long trains, came in, and
took their places in the stately arm-chairs.
Tickets, on which our names were inscribed, in
the languages in which we were to write our
poems, were handed about. Habbas Dahdah
156 THE IMPR0V18AT0BE.
made tlie opening oralion, and now followed
porms in Sjritic, Chaldaif, Coptic, nay, even
in Sanscrit, English, and other strange tongues,
-nay, the more oiitlandisU and odd the lan-
guages sounded, the greater were the applause
and bravos, and clapping of hands, uiingled
with the heartiest laughter.
With a beating heart I came forward, and
spoke a few strophes of my " Italy." Repeated
aceliiniations suluted me ; the old cardinals
clap|)ed their hands in token of applause, and
Habbiis Dahdah smiled as kindly as it was
Mble for him to do, and moved prophetic-
THE IMPROVISATORE. 157
for although, for order's sake^ tlie succeeding
poem was listened to, and received also its ap-
P'ause, people immediately afterwards turned
*gain to the beauty and the spirit of the poem
^^ Dante.
My cheeks burned like fire, my breast
heaved, I felt an infinite, unspeakable happi-
Dess, my whole soul drank in the incense
which was offered to Bernardo. I looked at
^^^'^f he was become quite other than I had
*^er seen him before. Pale as death, with his
fijes riveted to the ground, he stood there like
^ Criminal he, who otherwise had looked so
^^^l^ashedly into every one's face. Habbas
*^*hdah seemed just like a companion piece
^ l^ixn, and appeared ready to pluck the gar-
^^tX to pieces in his abstraction, when one of
^ cardinals took it from him and placed it
^ ^he head of Bernardo, who bent his knee,
^"^ bowed his face into both his hands.
^fter the festival I sous^ht out Bernardo.
*^o-morrow!" he exclaimed, and tore him-
^ loose from me.
^^a the following day, I observed that he
^^ned me; and it grieved me, for my heart
^^ infinitely attached to him, it needed one
"^Bty soul in this world, and it had selected
158 THE IHPROriSATOBE.
Two evenings passed, he then threv himself
on my neck, pressed my hand, and said, ** An-
tonio, I must speak with joa ; I cannot bear it
Rny longer, and will not, either. When they
pressed the garland on my head, it was as if
they had pressed in a thousand thorns. The
acclamations sonnded like jeering ! It was to
yon that the honour belonged ! I saw the joy
in your eye, and, do you know, I hated yon t
you were to me no longer that which you had
been. That is a wicked feeling, I pray yon for
forgiveness ; bat ire must now part, I am do
longer at home here. I will hence, and not
THE IMPROVISATORS. 159
Mrdo, and do not distress me with such
strange talk."
" We will always be friends," said he, and
left me. It was late in the evening before he
came to his chamber; and the next morning it
^^w announced that he had left the school to
follow another profession.
** He is gone like a falling star," observed
H^bbag Dahdah, ironically ; '* he vanished as
^n as one noticed the brightness ! The whole
^^*8 a crack and so was the poem, too. I
shall manage, indeed, that this treasure is pre-
served ! Then, Holy Vii^in ! when one looks
closely at it, what is it ? Is it poetry, that
^hich runs in and out, without shape or con-
s^tency ? At first, I thought it was a vase,
*^cn a French wine-glass, or a Median sabre ;
^^ 'When I turned it and drew it, there came
^^ the selfsame unmeaning, cut-and-dried
^Pe. In three places there is a foot too
^'^y; there are horrible hiatuses; and five-
. ^trwenty times has he used the word *di-
Vln*v.
^ .^' as if a poem became divine by the repe-
. '^'^ of this word. Feeling, and feeling! that
^^t all which makes the poet ! What a
^^\)ating with fancies, now one is here!
^^^ one is there! Neither is it thought,
discretion, golden discretion ! The poet
no^
160 THE IMPROVISATORE.
must not let himself be run away wilh by his
subject. He must be cold ice-cold, must
rend to pieces the child of hie heart, that he
may understand every siDgle portion it ; it ia
only thus that a work of art can be put to-
gether. Not with nil this driving and chasing,
and all this n'ild inspiration I And then they
set a. garland on such a lad! Flogged he
should have been for his historical errors, hia
hiatuses, his miserable work! I have vexed
myself, and that does not suit my constitu-
tion ! The abominable Bernardo !"
Such probably was Habbas Dahdah's speech
CHAPTER VIII.
A WELCOME AND AN UNWELCOME MEETING
THE LITTLE ABBESS THE OLD JEW.
We all missed the wild, wilful Bernardo,
and none missed him more than I did. It
seemed to me as if all was empty and deserted
around me : I could not enjoy my books ;
there were dissonances in my soul which I
could not even silence ; music alone brought
a momentary harmony. In the tones of the
world, my life and my whole endeavours first
received clearness. Here I found more than
any poet, than even Dante had expressed;
not merely the feelings comprehended from
the soul-breathing picture, but the sensitive
part, the ear, drank in from living existence.
Every evening, before the image of the Ma-
donna on the wall childrens' voices sang to me
162 THE IMFROVISATOBE.
remembrances fi-om my own cliildfaood, whicli
sounded like a cradle-song from the melan-
choly bagpipe of the Pifferari. I heard, indeed,
in them the monotonous song of the muffled
corpse-bearers who carried the coffin of my
mother. I began to think about the past and
of that which was to come- My heart seemed
so strangely to want room ; I felt as if I must
aiag ; old melodies intoned within me, and the
words came aloud from my lips ; yes, too
muchaloud, fortfaey disturbed Habbas Dadhah,
at several rooms' distance, who sent to inform
me that this was neither an opera-house nor a
icliool. mid that there roiild be no
THE IMPROVISATORE. 163
horse, waved his hand again and again till he
^^ out of sight ; but I had recognised him
" was Bernardo, the fortanate Bernardo !
How different had his life been to mine ! No !
I could not think of it ! I drew my hat deeply
over my brows, and, as if pursued by an evil
spirit, hastened out, and forth wherever the
'nnd would carry me. I thought not then
"Ow it was a regulation that no scholar in the
Jesuits' school. Propaganda, or any establish-
nient of learning in the Papal States, should
p out of the building without being accom-
l^nied by a fellow-student of equal or superior
*ge, and might never shew themselves alone
^thout an especial permission. Such a uni-
versally known law as this was never incul-
^ted upon ns. I forgot that my freedom in
^ way was circumscribed, and from this
^ttse went out quite calmly. The old custo-
^ thought perhaps that I had obtained per-
cussion.
The Corso was crowded with equipages. A
Accession of carriages, filled with the natives
f Rome and strangers, followed each other ;
^^ were taking their evening drive. People
*teod in throngs around the print-sellers'
Endows looking at the engravings, and beg-
Jftrs came up to them craving for a bajocco.
1G4 THE IMi'ROVISATORE.
It Wi)s JifBcult to make one's way through,
unless one would venture among tbe carriages.
I bad just slipped through in this manner,
when a hand took fast hold of my dress, and
I Iieard a well-known horrible voice vhisper,
" Bon giorno, Antonio!" I looked down:
there sat my uncle, tbe horrible Peppo, with
the two withered legs fastened up to his sides,
and with the wooden frame on which he shored
himself onwards. We had never been for
many years so near to each other. I had al-
ways made great circuits to escape him had
avoided the Spanish Steps, where he sat ; and
when I had been obliged to pass by him in a
procession, or with tlie other scbolorsj I had
always used my utmost endeavours to conceal
my face.
" Antonio, my own blood !" said he, holding
fast by my coat, " dost thou not know thy
own mother's brother, Peppo ? Think upon
Iben thou hast my name!
grown !"
THE IMPROVISATORE. 165
how we two rode together upon the little ass ?
Thou sweet child ! Yes, now thou sittest upon
loftier horse, thou wilt not know thy poor
BDcle wilt not come to me upon the steps.
Yet thou hast kissed my hand, slept upon
^y poor straw. Don't be ungrateful, An-
tonio !**
"Then let me go!" I cried, and tore the
^t out of his hands, and, slipping between
^"6 intersecting carriages^ came into a side
street My hearty trembled for horrorof yes,
^kat shall I call it? wounded pride. I
ancied myself to be scorned by every body
^^0 had seen us ; but this feeling prevailed
0% for a moment, and then gave place to
another and a much more bitter one. Every
word which he had said was indeed the truth ;
* Was really the only child of his sister. I
felt that my behaviour had been cruel, was
ashamed before God and myself; it burned
like fire in my heart. Had I now been alone
^ith Peppo, I would have kissed his ugly
lands, and prayed him for forgiveness. I
v*^ shaken to my inmost soul.
At that moment, the bells of the church of
St Agostino rang for the Ave Maria. My sin
lay heavy upon my soul, and I went in, that I
might pray to the Mother of God. All was
i(i6
empty mid dark in the lofty building ; tlie
lights upon the rarious altars burned feebly
and dreamily with lieams, like tinder ia the
night when the damp sirocco blows. My ouI
drank in conBoIation and pardon.
" Signore Antonio," eud a voice close to
me, " Excellenza is come and the handsome
Gignora. They are here from Firenza, and
have brouglit vith them their little angel.
Will not you come directly and pay your visi^
and give your welcome?"
It was old Fenella, the wife of the porter
at the Palazzo Borgbese. My benefactress
was here with lier husband and child. I had
not seen her for some yeani. My sodI was
full of joy ; 1 hastened there, and soon the
old friendly faces greeted me t^rain.
Fabiani was gentle and gracious, Francesca
glad aii a mother to see me again. Sha
brought to me her little daaghler, Flaminio,
with wonderfully bright
[_ immediately
THE IMPROVI6ATORE. 167
^' Make not my little abbess* a child of the
world/* said Fabiani^ smiling ; *' dost thou not
^ that she bears already the token of her
honour?" He then shewed to me a little
silver crucifix, which hung by a cord upon the
child's breast. ** The holy father gave her
^; she bears already her soul-brid^room
pon her heart."
In the plenitude of their love, the young
^QpIe had vowed to the church their first
^ale child, and the Pope had bestowed
upon the little one in the cradle this holy
%n. As a relation of the rich Borghese family,
^e highest place in the female convents of
Rome was open to her ; and, therefore, with
^hem and with all her connexions she bore the
honourable name of the Little Abbess. Every
story, therefore, that was told her, and every
^rt, was calculated to fix her ideas on the
world to which she peculiarly belonged, on the
^ppiness which awaited her.
She shewed me her Jesus-child, her little
* It IS the cnstom in most of the Italian families,
that when one of the daughters is destined to the con-
rent from childhood, she hears one or other name of
hononr, indicative of her destination, as ** Jesus' Bride,"
** the Nun," " the Abbess," &c. -4uM?r'5 Note.
168 THE lUPROVISATORB.
wliite-ganoented nuns, which went every day
to mass, set them up in tivo rows at the table,
as the nurse had taught her, and told me how
beautifully they sang and prayed to tlie Jesus*
child. I drew for her merrj' peasants, who,
in their long woollen cloaks, danced around
the stone Tritons, and pulchinellos that sat
upon one another's shoulders ; and the new
pictures unspeakably amused the little one.
She kissed them many times, then tore them in
her wantonness, and I must draw new ones,
till the time came when we must part, by the
nurse coming to take her to bed, for her bed-
THE IMPROVISATORE. 169
*" pictures which I had drawn, and which she
preserved with her rosary and her old prayer-
book.
" How queerly he bows !" said Francesca to
Fabiani, as, in the evening, 1 bowed in taking
leave. " It is veiy excellent to cultivate the
'Qind, bat neither must the body be neglected :
^ njuch is thought of that in the world ! But
*W will come, will it not, Antonio?" said
^^^i smiling, and extended her hand for me to
kiss.
It was yet early in the evening when I
"gain found myself in the street on my home-
ward way, but still it was pitch-dark. There
Were at that time no lamps in Rome ; they
belong, as is well known, to the last few years.
The lamps before the images of the Virgin
Were the only lights in the narrow, ill-paved
streets. I was obliged to feel my way before
^C) that I might not stumble against any
^g; and thus I went on slowly, occupied
^ith the thoughts of the adventures of this
^rnoon.
lu going forward, I struck my hand against
^Jne object.
** The devil !" resounded from a well-known
Voice; ' don't knock out my eyes, for then I
fiboQid see still less!"
VOL. I. I
170 THE IMPBOVISATORS.
"Bernardo!" I joyfully exclaimed ; "have
we met once more?"
"Antonio! my dear Antonio!" cried be,
and caught me by the arm ; " this is indeed a
merry meeting. Where do you come from?
From some little adventure? That I did not
expect from you; but you are caught in the
pat!) of darkness. Bat where is the slave cor-
poral, the cicisbeo, or whatever you call your
faithful companioni"
" I am quite alone," said I.
"Alone ?" repeated he ; " you are at bottom
a fine fellow ; you should be in the papal
111 ; iben, perhaps, we should make
THE IMPROVISATORE. 171
iiaps, to-day ; and the handsome signoras cast
glances at me oh, such burning ones ! I am^
to be sure, a very good-looking fellow, whom
tlie nniform becomes ; in this cursed darkness
here, joa cannot see me ! My new comrades
have led me oat into the world ; they are not
such recluses as you. We empty our glasses
to the well-being of the state, and have also
little adventures of which his holiness would
not endure to hear. What a foolish fellow
you are, Antonio ! I have had ten years' ex-
perience in these few months. Now I feel my
youth, it boils in my blood, it wells forth in
my heart, and I enjoy it enjoy it in copious
draughts, whilst my lips burn, and this ex-
citing thirst is unallayed."
" Your companions are not good, Bernardo,"
said I.
** Not good!" interrupted he; " don't preach
me any sermon ! What can you say about my
goings on ? My companions are of the purest
patrician blood that Rome possesses; we are
the holy father's guard of honour ; his blessing
absolves our little sins. After I had left school,
I too had some of these conventual notions
about me, but I was wise enough not to let my
new companions observe it ; I did as they did ;
my flesh and blood, my whole proper I, thrilled
172 THE IHPROyiBATOSE.
^ith joy and life, and I followed this impnlse
beCBQSe it was the strongest ; but I perceived
at tlic same time a hateTal, bad voice within
me it was the Propagandist convent breedii^,
and the last remains of good-childism, which
said, ' Thou art no longer innocent as a child!'
Since then I laugh at it, I nndentand it better.
I am a man ! the child is shook off: it was that
which cried when it could not have its way.
But here we are really at the Chiavica, the
best inn where artists assemble. Come in ;
we must empty a bottle of wine together, for
our happy meeting's sake come in; it ia
THE IMPROVISATORE. 173
desirous of taming the conversation to other
subjects : '^ there is such a crowd of people
together what can it be ? I think the sport
goes on under the image of the Madonna;"
and, so saying, I drew him towards it.
Rude men and boys of the lowest class had
closed up the street ; they made a large circle
around an old Jew, whom, as we found, they
would compel to jump over a stick, which one
of the fellows held, because he wished to go
out of the street.
It is well known that in Rome, the first
city of Christendom, the Jews are only per-
mitted to live in their allotted quarter, the
narrow and dirty Ohetto, the gate of which is
closed every evening, and soldiers keep watch
that none may come in or go out. Once a-
year, the oldest amongst them are obliged to
go the Capitol, and, kneeling, pray for per-
mission to live yet one year longer in Rome ;
which they obtain by binding themselves to
bear the expenses of the carnival, and pro-
mising that all of them, once in the year, on
an appointed day, shall go to a Catholic church
and hear a sermon for their conversion.
The old man whom we here saw had come
alone on this dark evening through the street.
-A^v.
silonce, tlioy closed up lue suum
fellows, a thick, broad-slioul tiered niai
long stick stretched out, and cried,
Jew, take thy legs with thee, howev
will shut Ghetto, thou wilt not get in
Let us see how nimble thou art in the
^' Leap, Jew ! " cried all the boys ;
ham's God will help thee ! "
"What harm have I done you?"
'* Let me, an old man, go on my o
and make not a jest of my grey ha
her to whom you yourselves pray for
and he pointed to the image of the
just by.
'' Dost thou think," said the fello
Madonna troubles herself about a Je
thou jump, thou old hound?" and
clenched his fist in his face, and
pressed in a closer circle around him
With this Bernardo sprang fort
i^ nearest aside, snatched in an i
THE IMPROVISATORE. 175
S'^ord above him, held the stick which he had
taken from him before him, and cried in a
*^*^ng, manly voice, "Jump thou, or I will
cleave thy head! delay not! by all the saints,
* U Split thy skull if thou do not jump over
it!*
The fellow stood as if all heaven had fallen
^^id the astonished crowd. The thundering
^ords, the drawn sabre, the papal officer uni-
*^*tQ, all dectrified him, and, without replying
^^e word, he gave a great spring over the
^^^k, which he had just held before the poor
"^w. The whole assembly appeared equally
^prised ; no one ventured to say a word, but
looked astonished by that which had happened.
Scarcely had the fellow leapt over, than Ber-
nardo seized him by the shoulder, and, striking
iiim lightly on the cheek with the flat of his
sabre, said,
" Bravo, my hound ! well done ! Yet once
more this trick, and then, I think, tliou wilt
have had enough of this dog's play ! "
The fellow was obliged to leap, and the
people, who went over to the merry side of
the thing, cried *' Bravo!" and clapped their
hands.
"Where art thou, Jew?" asked Bernardo.
176 TUS 11IPR0VI8ATORB.
" Come, I will lead thee!" But nobody re-
plied ; the Jew was gone.
" Come," said I, when we were out of the
crowd, " come, let them say what they may,
I will drink a bottle of wine with you. I will
drink your health. May we always be friends
in whatever circumstances we may be !"
"You are a fool, Antonio!" replied he,
*' and I also at bottom, to have vexed myself
about the rude fellow. I think that he will
not speedily be making any body jump again."
We went into the hostel ; none of the lively
guests observed us. There stood in a corner a
little table, and here we bade them bring us a
CHAPTER IX.
THE JEW MAIDEN.
That I bad been out for an evening without
permission, nay, drunk wiue also in an inn with
Bernardo, troubled me afterwards ; but For-
tune favoured me nobody missed me, or, if
they did, they supposed, like the old custo-
dian, that I had received permission, for I was
indeed considered to be the quietest and the
most conscientious of the scholars. The days
glided on smoothly for weeks ; I studied in-
dustriously, and visited in the meantime my
noble benefactress : these visits were my high-
est recreation. The little abbess became dearer
to me every day; I took to her the pictures
which I myself when a child had drawn, but
when she had played some minutes with them
they flew in many pieces about the floor ;
these I collected, and joined again for her.
i2
178 TBE IHPROVISATORB.
At that time I was reading Viipl, Tbe
sixtli book, where the CumtEan sibyl con-
ducts j^neas down to the lower regions, in-
terested me greatly, for it bore a relationship
to that of Dante. With this I thought of my
poeni, aud that brought Bernardo vividly to
my mind, whom I had not seen for so long a
time. 1 longed for him. This was precisely
on one of those days in the week on which the
gallery of tbe VaUcan stood open to the public.
I obtained leave of absence to go and see the
glorious marble gods and the beautiful pictures;
hut that which I particularly wished for was to
iiic'ot with niv dear Bernardo.
THE IMPROYISATORE. 179
mountains, the proud line of the waves be*
yond the Campagna, but my eye at the same
time looked down into the court of the Vati-
can to see if it were not Bernardo whenever
I heard a sword ring up the broad flag-stones :
but he came not.
In vain I wandered through the arcades,
visited the Nile-group and the Laocoon, all
my looking was only folly, and I grew out of
humour. Bernardo was not to be disco-
vered, and, therefore, my homeward way
seemed to me about as interesting as the Torso
and the splendid Antinous.
Now skipped a light figure in helmet and
with ringing spurs along the passage, and I
after it; it was Bernardo. His joy was not
less than mine ; he drew me hastily along with
him, for he had, he said, a thousand things to
tell me.
''You do not know what I have suffered
and still suffer! You shall be my doctor
you alone can help me to the magical plants."
With these words he led me through the
great hall, where the papal Swiss kept guard,
into a large room fitted up for the accommoda-
tion of the officer on duty.
**But you are not ill?" I inquired, " you
180 THE IMPROVISATORE.
cannot be so ! your eyes and your cheeks bare
with tlie glow of life."
"Oh, yes, they burn," stud he, "I bum
from bead to foot ; but it is all right ! Yon
are iny star of iuck you bring with you
charming adventures and good ideas. You
must help! sit down. You do not know
how much I have lived through since that
evening which we two spent tt^etlier. But I
will confide all to you you are an honest
friend, and must have a share in the adven-
ture."
He would not allow me to speak I must
hear that which excited him so much.
THE IMPROVISATORE. 181
with the desire to go down through the nar-*
row, dirty street. It was a whole synagogue
within ; houses jostling one against another
high into the air from every window was
heard ** Bereschit Bara Elohim ! " head to
bead, just as if they were going to pass over
the Red Sea. Round about hung old clothes,
umbrellas, and suchlike Rag-Fair goods. I
skipped among iron-wares, pictures, and dirt, of
course, and heard what a buzzing and scream-
ing there was whether I would not trade, sell,
or buy ; they would hardly let me have time to
notice a pair of black-eyed, beautiful children,
which laughed at me from the door. It was
such a wandering, you may trust me, as Dante
might have described. All at once an old Jew
fell upon me, bowed himself down before me
as if I had been the holy father.
" * Excellenza/ said he, * my noble de-
liverer the saviour of my life, blessed be the
hour ill which I saw you ! Think not that old
Hanoch is ungrateful ! ' and much more which
I did not understand and cannot now remem-
ber. I now recognised him ; it was the old
Hebrew who should have taken the leap.
** * Here is my poor house,' continued he,
'but the threshold is too humble for me to
pray you to cross it;' and with this he kissed
182 THE IHPROTISATOBS.
tny hands and my dress. I wished to get
away, for the whole neighbourhood was gazing
upon iiB ; but just then 1 cast my eyes upwards
to the house, and I saw the most beautiful
head that I ever had seen, a marble Venus
with warm blood in her cheeks, and eyes like
the daughters of Arabia. Thus you can yery
well conceive that I followed the old Jew in
he had, indeed, invited me. The passage
was truly as narrow and dark as if it had led
into the grave of the Scipios, and the stone
steps and the handsome wooden gallery yea,
they were, in particular, formed to teach pe^le
stability in walking, and circumspection to the
THE IMPROVISATORS. 183
that I had need occasionally to fly to compas-
sionate sonls^ who, at from twenty to thirty
per cent, shewed their Christian love, but that
he (and it is a miracle in the Jewish kingdom)
would lend to me without any. percentage at
all. Do you hear? with no percentage!
I was a noble young man he would trust
himself to my honesty! I had protected a
twig of the stem of Israel, and not a splinter oi
this should rend my clothing !
** As I was not in need of any money, I did
not take any ; so he then besought me to con-
descend to taste his wine the only bottle
which he possessed. I know not what reply
I made, but this I know, that the loveliest girl
of oriental descent entered. There were form
and colour hair shining and jet-black as
ebony. She presented to me excellent wine
of Cyprus, and that kingly blood of the line of
Solomon crimsoned her cheeks as I emptied a
glass to her happiness. You should have
heard her speak heard her thank me for her
father, which, indeed, it was not worth the
trouble. It sounded like music in my ears
it was no earthly being! She then vanished
again, and only the old man remained."
"The whole is just like a poem!" I ex-
184 TBB IIIFROTIBATOBE.
claimed, -"it conld be beaatifally pnt ioto
verse."
" You do not know," coatinued he. " how I
fasve eiuce tormeoted myself bow I hare
formed schemes in my head, and then polled
them down again, for meeting again with my
daughter of ZioD. Only think, I went down
there to borrow money which I did not want;
I borrowed twenty silrer scudi for ght days,
but 1 did not get to see her. I took them un-
changed buck again to him on the third day,
and the old man smiled and rubbed his hands,
for he had not actiuUly so entirely relied npon
my boasted honesty. I praised his wine of
THE IHPROVISATORE. 185
bj9La daughter together into the lonely
grotto."
'^ What will yoa have me to do ? I do not
comprehend how I can do any thing here."
" You can do every thing, whatever you will.
The Hebrew is really a beautiful language, a
poetical picture-world ; you shall study it, and
take a Jew for your teacher ; I will pay for
the lessons. Do you have the old Hanoch, for
I have discovered that he belongs to the
learned portion in Ghetto. When your true-
hearted manner has won him, then you can
make the acquaintance of his daughter, and
then you must bring me in also, but at full
gallop at full, flying gallop. I have burning
poison in my blood the burning poison of
love. You must go to-day to the Jew."
** That I cannot," I replied ; " you do not
take into consideration my circumstances
what a part I should have to play ; and how
can you, dear Bernardo, demean yourself so
as to have a love-affair with a Jew girl?"
^' Oh, that you do not understand!" inter-
rupted he; ''Jew-girl or not has nothing to
do with it, if she is only good for any thing !
Now, thou beloved youth, my own excellent
Antonio, set about studying Hebrew we will
both of us study it, only in different ways.
186 THE IHPROVIBATOBE.
Be reasonable, and think how very much yoa
liercby promote my happiness."
" You know," 1 said, " how sincerely with
luj' whole Boul I am attached to yon,- yon
know how your preponderating force seizes
upon my thoughts and my whole wiU. If yoa
were angry, you could destroy me ! I should
be forced into your magic circle. I judge not
your views in life by my own ; every one moat
follow bis own nature. Neither do I consider
the mode by which you would seize on plc*-
sure to be sinful, for that is according to your
cast of mind. I am quite different; do not
over-persuade me into an undertaking which,
THE IMPROVISATORE. 187
I was dumb ; the tone in which he spoke,
his whole manner, shewed that he was offended.
% coldness and formal politeness met the
^ann pressure of my hand. Troubled and out
of spirits, I hastened home.
1 felt that he was unjust that I had acted
w was my duty to do ; and yet there were
Moments in which it seemed as if I had acted
unkindly to him. In one of these combats with
Myself I went through the Jews* quarter,
hoping that my fortunate star would conduct
Me to some adventure which should turn out
*o the benefit of my dear' Bernardo. But I
old not once see the old Jew ; unknown hces
Joriced out from doors and windows, dirty
children lay upon the steps among all sort of old
^h of iron and clothes, and the eternal shout-
iig of whether I would not buy or sell almost
deafened me. Some young girls were playing
at shuttlecock, from window to window, across
the street. One of these was very handsome ;
ooold it be Bernardo's beloved? I involun-
tarily took off my hat, but the next moment,
ashamed of doing so, I stroked my head with
mj hand, as if it had been on account of the
warmtli, and not of the girls, that I uncovered
my head.
CHAPTER X.
A YSAB LATBB THE BOUAH CASNITAL
THE StMOSR.
Ip I mast uninterraptedly follow the thntd
wliich connects together Bernardo's love and
THE IMPROVISATORE. 189
I Ferjr often went to the Borghese Palace, and
found with Excellenza, Fabiani, and Francesca,
a true home, yet often, also, found occasion for
deep pain. My soul was filled with gratitude to
every one of them for all which I had received
from them, and, therefore, any grave look
from them cast a shade upon my life's happi-
^^, Francesca commended my good quali-
ties, but wished now to perfect me. My car-
riage, my mode of expressing myself, she
criticised, and that with severity certainly
^th great severity so much so as to bring
tears to my eyes, although I was a tall youth
of eighteen. The old Excellenza, who had
taken me from Domenica's hut to his magnifi-
cent home, was also just as cordially kind to
me as at the first time when we met ; but he,
too, pursued the signora's mode of education
with me. I did not take the same interest as
himself in plants and strange flowers, and this
he considered as a want of taste for that which
was solid ; he thought that I was too much
occupied by my own peculiar individuality I
dki not come sufficiently out of myself did
not let the radius of the mind intersect the
great circle of the world.
" Reflect, my son," said he, " that the leaf
which is rolled up in itself withers."
190
niE iMi-"'
^5t\-VOBB-
'"';, \ side, ImS*"^ r. ...arol !
*=r j^ '''* :rcr;i -'*"
THE IMPROVISATORS. 191
which were borne before the carriages of the
guests were stuck into iron arms upon the
wall, so that this seemed like a complete cas-
cade of fire. Papal soldiers were stationed at
the gates. The little garden was decorated
with br^ht-coloured paper-lamps ; the marble
steps were magnificently lighted, and upon
erery step, beside the wall, stood vases filled
with flowers or small orange- trees, which dif-
fused their fragrance around. Soldiers leaned
their shoulders against the doors. There was
a throng of richly dressed servants.
Franscesea was splendidly beautiful ; the
costly bird-of-paradise head-dress which she
wore, and her white satin dress with its rich
lace, became her most exquisitely, but that
she extended to me her hand yes, that I
thought the most beautiful of all ! In two
halls, in each of which was a full orchestra,
floated the dancers.
Among these was Bernardo, and he was
handsome ; the scarlet, gold-embroidered uni-
jbrm, the narrow, white breeches, all fitted as
if but a part of the noble figure ; he danced
with the most lovely women, and they smiled
confidingly and tenderly upon him. That
which vexed me was that I could not dance ;
neither did any body take any notice of me.
192 THB IXPROriBATORB.
' In my own home it seemed to me tlikt I wu
tlie greatest straager among Btrangen. But
Bernardo offered me his hand, and all my ill-
humour was again gone.
Behind the long red curtains, by the open
window, we drank together the fosmiDg cham-
pagne ; he clinked his glass fiimiliarly against
mine. Beautiful melodies streamed through
the ear into our hearts, and every thought of a
friendship less warm than in former days was
extinguished. I ventured to mention even the
handsome Jewish maiden ; he laughed, and
seemed quite cured of his deep wound.
" I liave found another little golden bird,"
THE IMPROVISATORE. 193
my own poor childhood, when I also had
played like them, and now stood, as if at
home, in the splendid ball-room, among the
first families of Rome. Thanks and love to
the Mother of God, who had led me so ten-
derly forwards in the world, filled my whole
soul ; I bent my knees in adoration, and the
long thick curtains hid me from the eyes of
all. I was infinitely happy !
The night was over ; yet two days more,
and the whole family left Rome. Habbas
Dahdah impressed upon me every hour what
this year was to bring me the name and the
dignity of an abbe. I studied industriously,
scarcely ever saw Bernardo, or any other ac-
quaintance. Weeks extended themselves into
months, and these brought on the day in
which, after close examination, I was to as-
sume the black dress and the short silk cloak.
All within me sung victoria. The lofty pines,
and newly sprung-up anemones, the crier in
the streets, and the light cloud which floated
through the blue air !
With the short silk cloak of the abbe, I
bad become a new and happier person. Fran-
;esca bad sent me a bill of a hundred scudi,
for my necessities and my pleasure. In my
VOL. I. K
i94 THE IMPROVISATORS.
dcllvlit t hasteued up the Spanish Steps, threir
a silver scudi to uncle Peppo, and hastened
away, without hearing more from him than his
" Excellenza, Ezcellenza Antonio!"
It was in the first days of February, the al-
niond-ti-(!e blossomed, the orange-trees became
more and more yellow, the merry carnival was
at hand, as if it were a festival to celebrate my
adoption inio the rank of abb^ ; heralds on
horseback, ivitli trumpets and splendid velvet
banners, bad already announced its approach.
Never before bad I yet wholly enjoyed Jla
de)in;hts, never given myself wholly up to
' llic nia'.idtT the
THE IMPROVISATORE. 195
abort, to go and to be just wherever I myself
wished, was a thing hardly to have been
thought of. How natural was it then that I
shoeld throw myself into the wild stream, and
delight myself with every thii^ just like a
child ! Least of all did I think that the most
seriotts adventure of my life was now to begin ;
that an occurrence, which had once occupied
me so vividly and so entirely, the lost seed-
cofn, forgotten and out of sight, should now
shew itself again like a green, fragrant plant,
which had wound itself firmly around my own
life's tree.
The carnival was all my thought. I went
early in the morning to the Piazza del Popolo
that I might see the preparations for the races,
walked in the evening up and down the Corso,
to notice the gay carnival-dresses which were
hang out, figures with masks and in full cos-
tome. I hired the dress of an advocate, as
being one of the merriest characters, and
scarcely slept through the whdie night that
I might think over and regularly study my
part.
The next day seemed to me like a holy fes-
tival ; I was as happy as a child ! All round
about in the side-streets the comfit-sellers set
up their booths and tables, and displayed their
196 THE IMPROTISATOKE.
gay wares.* The Corso was swept, and gay
carpets were liong oat from all the windows.
About three o'clock, according to the French
mode of reckoning time, I went to the Capitol,
to enjoy, for the first time, the banning of the
festival. The balconies were filled with fo-
reigners of rank ; the senator sat in purple
apoD a throne of velvet ; prel^, little pages,
with feathers in their velvet C14M, stood on the
le0, before the papal Swiss guard. Then
came in a crowd of the most ^ed Jews, who
kneeled down, bare-headed, before tbe senator.
I knew one of them, it was Ilanoch, the old
i daughter had jo sreiitlv intereglfi
THE IMPBOVISATOBE. 197
selves ran through the Corso before the people
0^ Rome, might pay all the expense of the
iorse-racing, together with the offered prize-
M0y, and might provide the gay velvet ban-
'^. The senator gave a gracious nod (the
^'^ custom of setting the foot upon the shoulder
^^ the supplicant was done away with), rose up
*^ifi a flourish of music in procession^ and,
descending the steps, entered his magnificent
^**iHage, in which the pages also had a place ;
*^^ thus was the carnival opened. The great
*^ll of the Capitol rang for gladness, and I
^P^d home quickly that I might instantly as-
^^^He my advocate's dress. In this it seemed
^ xne that I was quite another person.
With a kind of self-satisfaction I hastened
"^^n into the street, where a throng of masks
^'^'eady saluted me. They were poor working
People, who on these days acted like the richest
^^bility ; their whole finery was the most ori-
ginal, and at the same time the cheapest in
^^e world. They wore over their ordinary
^I'ess a coarse shirt stuck all over with lemon-
P^l, which was to represent great buttons ; a
DQnch of green salad on their shoulders and
shoes ; a wig of fennel ; and great spectacles
cut out of orange-peel.
I threatened them all with actions at law.
198 THE IMPHOVI8AT0BE.
shewed tbem in my book of laws the r^ula-
tions which forbade such luxuriousnesa id dress
as tbcirs, and then, applauded hy them all,
hastened away to the long Corso, which was
changed from a street into a masquerade-liall.
From all the windows, and round all the balco-
nies and boxes erected for the occWon, were
hung bright-coloured carpets. All the way
along, by the house-sides, stood an infinite
nniuber of chairs, " excellent places to see
from," as those declared who had them to let.
Carriages followed carriages, for ^e greatert
part filled with masks, in two long rows the
THE IMPROVISATORE. 199
up to US for a few moments by a contest among
a crowd of Pulchinellos, and the good lady was
obliged to listen to my eloquence.
" Signora," said I, "do you call that keep-
ing your vow ? Is this maintaining the Roman
Catholic customs as you ought to do? Ah,
where now is Lncretia, the wife of Tarquinius
Colatinus ? For this do you and many other
women of Rome send out their respectable
husbands in the carnival time, and let them go
in exercitia with the monks of Trastevere.
You promise to lead a quiet, God-fearing life
in your house, and your husbands mortify their
flesh in the time of merriment, and pray and
labour night and day within the walls of the
convent. Thus you get free play, and flirt about
with your gallants on the Corso and about Fes-
tino! Ay, signora, I summon you before the
tribunal, according to the sixteenth clause of
the twenty-seventh law."
An emphatic blow with her fan on my fiice
was my answer, the real cause of which was,
we may suppose, that I had, quite innocently,
liit upon the truth.
"Are you mad, Antonio?" whispered her
conductor to me, and both made their escape
among sbirri, Greeks, and shepherdesses. By
200 THE IMPROVIBATORE.
those few words I had recognised him : it wan
Bernardo. But who could the lady be ?
" Luofii, Luogi ! Palroni !" cried those who
had chairs to let. I was bewildered in my
thoughts ; but yet who will think on a cami-
val's day ? A crowd of harlequins, with little
bells on their shoulders and shoes, danced
around me, and a new advocate upon stilts, the
height of a man, strode in above us. As if he
recognised a collegian in me, he joked about
the humble position in which I stood, and
assured them that it was only be alone who could
win any cause, for upon the earth, to which I
THE IMPROVISATORE. 201
ears that I coald not even hear my own words ;
at that moment also was heard the cannon-
shot^ which was the signal that all carriages
must leave the streets, and that the carnival
was at an end for this day.
I obtained a stand upon a wooden scaffold-
ing. Below me moved the crowd, without
allowing itself to be disturbed by the soldiers,
who warned them to make way for the horses,
that would soon pass at a wild speed through the
street, where no causeway made a determined
path.
At the end of the street, by the Piazza del
Popolo, the horses were led up to the barrier.
They all seemed half wild. Burning sponges
were fastened to their backs, little rockets be-
hind their ears, and iron points hanging loose,
which in the race spurred them till the blood
came, were secured to their sides. The grooms
could scarcely hold them. The cannon was
fired. The rope before the barrier fell, and
now they flew like a storm-wind past me up
the Corso. The tinsel glittered ; their manes
and the gaudy ribands floated in the air;
sparks of fire flew from their hoofs. The whole
mass of people cried after them, and, at the
same moment in which they had passed,
streamed out again into the open mid-path,
k2
202 THB IICPKOVISATOSB.
like the waves, wliich close agkin after the
ship's keel.
The festival wis at an end for the day. I
hastened home to take off my drese, and foand
it) luy room Bernardo, who was waiting fir
me.
" Vou here!" I exclaimed; "and your
donna, where, in all the world, have you left
her?"
" Mush!" said he, and threatened me jest-
ingly with his finger ; " do not let that come
to an atfair of honour between us! Yet how
could YOU get the whimsical idea of just saying
what you did say ? bnt we will give abeolatkm
THE IMPROVISATORE. 203
of violets from the carnival to offer her, in case
she should enchant me ! "
I was willing to accompany him I wished
to drink up every drop of the merry carnival.
It was an important evening for us both. In
my Diario Romano, also, this 3d of February
stands doubly underlined. Bernardo had rea-
sons that it should be so in his.
It was in the Theatre Aliberto, the first
opera-house in Rome, that we were to see the
new singer as Dido. The magnificent ceiling,
with the hovering Muses; the curtain, on
which is portrayed the whole of Olympus, and
the golden arabesques in the boxes, were then
all new. The entire house, from the floor to
the fifth row, was filled ; in every box burned
lights in the lamps, the whole blazed like a sea
of light. Bernardo directed my eyes to every
new beauty who entered her box, and said a
thousand wicked things about the plain ones.
The overture began. It was the exposition-
scene of the piece in music. The wild tempest
raged on the sea and drove neas on the coast
of Lybia. The horror of the storm died away
in pious hymns, which ascended in triumph,
and in the soft tones of the flute a dream-like
feeling stole over me of Dido's awakening love,
feeling which I myself had not known till
204 THE IMPROVISATORE.
then, 'file liunling-lionis sounded, tLe stomi
arose again, and I ealered with the lorers into
the secret grotto, where all intoned of love, the
strong, tumultuous paRsion, which burst into a
(ieep dissonance ; and with this the curtain roee.
iEneas is about to go, to conquer the Hespe-
rian kingdom for Ascanius, to leave Dido, who
received him the stranger, who sacrificed for
him her honour and her happiness. But as yet
she knows it not, " but quickly will the dream
vanish," said he, "soon, when the hosts of
Teucer, like the black swarms of ants laden with
booty, advance to the shore."
Non- came forth Dido. As soon as she shewed
THE IMPROVISATORE. 205
sLe bowed to the admiring crowd, who now
followed with deep silence her beautiful ac-
centuation of the recitative.
" Antonio/' said Bernardo half aloud to me,
and seized my arm, ^' it is she! I must have
lost my senses, or it is she my flown bird !
Yes, yes, I cannot be wrong; the voice also
is hers; I remember it only too well!"
'* Who do you mean?" I inquired.
" The Jewish maiden from Ghetto," replied
he ; *' and yet it seems impossible, she cannot
really be the same !"
He was silent, and lost himself in the con-
templation of the wonderfully lovely, sylph-like
being. She sang the happiness of her love ; it
was a heart which breathed forth, in melody,
the deep, pure emotion which, upon the wings
of melodious sounds, escajies from the human
breast. A strange sadness seized upon my
soul ; it was as if those tones would call up in
me the deepest earthly remembrances ; I also
inras about to exclaim, with Bernardo, It is she !
yes, she whom I for these many years had not
thought or dreamed of stood now with wonder-
ful vividness before me she with whom I, as
a child, had preached at Christmas, in the
church ara cceli ; that singularly delicate little
girl, with the remarkably sweet voice, who had
206 THB IMPROVISATOKX.
won the prize from me. I thooglit of her, and
the more I ifw and heard this eveain^ the
more firmly was it impressed on my mind, " it
is she she, and no other!"
When, afterwards, JEntaa uinoances to her
that he will go^that they are not married-
that he knows not of their nnptial torch, bow
astoundiiigly did she express all that whii^
passed in her soni astonishment, pain, rage ;
and, when she sang her great aria, it waa as
if the waves of the deep had struck against the
clouds. How, indeed, shall I describe the worid
of melody which she revealed ? My thoaghts
sought for an outward image for these tones^
THB IMPROTISATOBE. 207
the race of Lybia, the princes of Africa, her
Tirginity and duty. '^ I sent nq ships against
Troy ; I disturbed not the manes of Anchises
and his ashes!" There was a truth, a pain in
the whole of her expression, which filled my
eyes with tears; and the deep silence which
reigned around shewed that every heart felt
the same.
.nea8 left her, and now she stood for a
moment cold and pale as marble, like a Niobe.
Bat qaickly boiled the blood in her veins ; it
was no longer Dido the warm, the loving
Dido the forsaken wife it was a Fury. The
beautiful features breathed forth poison and
death. Annunciata knew so completely how
to change her whole expression, to call up the
icy shudder of horror, that one was compelled
to breathe and to suffer with her.
Leonardo da Vinci has painted a Medusa's
bead, which is in the gallery at Florence.
Every one who sees it is strangely captivated
by it, and cannot tear themselves away. It is
as if the deep, out of froth and poison, had
formed the most beautiful shape as if the
oB,m. of the abyss had fashioned a Medician
Venus. The look, the expression of the mouth
even, breathe forth death. Thus stood Dido
now before us.
208 THB IltPBOVlSATORB.
We saw the funereal pile which her sister
Anna had erected ; the court was hwag with
black garlands and night-shade ; in the &r dis-
tance sped the barque ofMnea* over the a^tated
sea. Dido stood with the weapons which he
had forgrotten ; her song sonnded deep and
heavy, and then again ascended into power and
streng;th, like the lamentation of the bUeo
angels. The funereal pile was lighted ; her
heart, broke in melody.
Like a tempest burst forth the applause : the
curtain fell. We were all out of onnelves with
admiration of the glorious actress, her beanty,
and her indescribably exquisite voice.
THE IMPROVISATORE. 209
and for the fourth time she now came forth^ quite
alone, and thanked them, in a few cordial words,
for the rich encouragement which they had given
to her efforts. I had written a few lines in my
excitement on a piece of paper, and these^ amid
flowers and garlands, flew to her feet.
The curtain did not rise again ; hut still
again and again resounded her name ; people
could not weary of seeing her, could not weary
of paying her homage. Yet once more was she
obliged to come forth from the side of the curtain ;
pass along before the lamps, and send kisses and
thanks to the exultant crowd. Delight beamed
firom her eyes ; there was an indescribable joy in
her whole look ; it was certainly the happiest
moment of her life. And was it not also the
happiest of mine? I shared in her delight as
well as in the acclamation of the others ; my
eye, my whole soul imbibed her sweet image ;
I saw only, thought only, Annunciata.
The crowd left the theatre; I was carried
away with the stream which bore onward to
the corner where the carriage of the singer
stood ; I was pushed to the wall, for all wished
yet once more to see her. All took off their
hats and shouted her name. I spoke her name
also, but my heart swelled strangely the while.
Bernardo had pressed forward to the carriage.
210 THE tMPROVISATORE,
and opened the door for her. [ aw that in a
moment the horses ^ould be tskea out, and that
the enthusiastic young men woald theiOKlTes
draw bei- home. She epoke, and besought of
them, with a trembling voice, not to do 80;
but only her name Jn the most exultant sbont
Bounded thi'ough the street;, Bernardo moanted
ou the step, as the carriage was set in motion,
in order to compose her, and I seised hold A
the pole, and felt myself as happy as the rest.
The whole thing was too soon over, like a
beautiful dream.
It was a happiness to me now to stand beside
Hernnnin: he had wctiiallv lalketl willi her
THE IMPROVISATORE. 211
Cyprus wine, and then vanished. I have her
again ; abe is here, and like a glorious phoenix
ascended from her nest, that hateful Ghetto !"
' It is impossible, Bernardo,'* I replied ;
" she has also awoke remembrances in me,
which make it impossible that she can be a
Jewess ; most assuredly is she one of the only
blessed church. Had you observed her as
dosely as I have done, you would have seen
that hers is not a Jewish form ; that those fea-
tures bear not the Cain's mark of that unhappy,
despised nation. Her speech itself, her accent,
come not from Jewish lips. O Bernardo, I
feel so happy, so inspired by the world of me-
lody which she has infused into my soul ! But
what did she say ? You have actually talked
with her, stood close by her carriage ; was
she right happy, as happy as she has made
usaU?"
" You are regularly inspired, Antonio ! " in-
terrupted he ; '*now melts the ice of the Je-
suit school ! What did she talk about ? Yes,
site was frighted, and yet she was proud that
you wild cubs drew her through the streets.
She held her veil tight over her face, and
pressed herself into the comer of the carriage ;
I composed her, and said every thing that my
heart could have said to the Queen of Beauty
212 TBB IUPROTI9ATOSB.
and Innocence ; bat she woald not even take
mj hand wfaeo I would hare helped her oat !**
"But how could you he bo hold! she did
not know you. I should never hare Tentored
on such audaci^."
" Yes, you know nothing of the worid
nothing of women. She has olnerved me, ud
that always is something."
I now read him my impromptu to her; he
thought it was dirine, and declared that it
must be printed in the IHario di Soma. We
drank together her health. Every one in the
cofTue-house talked of her ; every one, like us.
THE IMPROVISATORE. 213
terpiece. She certainly took it up, I thought,
and now she sits half undressed upon the soft
silken sofa, supports her cheek upon her beau-
tiful arm, and reads that Tvhich I breathed
upon paper :
My soul went vrith thee, trembling and unshriven,
On that proud track where only Dante stays ;
In music, through the depths and up to heaven,
Thy song has led me and thy seraph-gaze !
What Dante*s power from stony words hath wrung,
Deep in my soul hast thou in music sung !
I knew no spiritual world more rich and
beautiful than that in Dante's poem, but this
now, it seemed to me, revealed itself in a higher
vitality, and with much greater clearness than
before. Her melting song, her look, the pain
and the despair which she had represented,
had most completely been given in the spirit
of Dante. She must think my poem beautiful f
I imagined her thoughts, her desire to know
the author, and I almost fancy that, before I
went to sleep, I was, with all my imaginings
about her, still most occupied with myself and
my own little insignificant poem.
CHAPTER XI.
BERNARDO AS DEUS EX HACBIITA LA PBUOVA
d'iTK opera 3EB1A UY FISaT IKPBOTI8A-
TION THE LAST DAYS OF THE CABNITAL.
Tne next forenoon I srw nothing of Ber-
THE IMPROVISATORE. 215
with shells, Pulchinellos and magicians danced
around. I had quite forgotten that it was car-
nival time, and that it even now was the hour
when the sports began for to-day.
The whole gaudy crowd, the noise and the
screams, made an unpleasant impression upon
me. Carriages drove past ; almost all the
drivers were dressed as ladies, but it looked
to me horrible; those black whiskers under
womens' caps; the vigorous movements, all
were painted to me in frightful colours, nay,
were detestable, as it seemed to me. I did not
feel myself, like as yesterday, given up to
mirth. I was about to depart, and now, for
the last time, cast a glance at the house in
which Annunciata lived, when Bernardo rushed
from the door towards me, and, laughing, ex-
claimed,
'* Come along, man, and don't stand staring
there! I will introduce you to Annunciata;
she expects you already. Look you, is not this
a piece of friendship in me ? "
** She ! " I stammered, the blood seeming to
boil in my ears, '' she ! don't make any sport
of me ! Where will you take me V*
" To her, of whom you have sung," he re-
plied ^^ to her, about whom you and I and
216 THE IMPR0TI8AT0RB.
every body are raving to the divine Annun-
ciata ! "
And, so saying, he drew me into the door
with him.
" But explain to me how you got here your-
self how you can introduce me here."
" Presently, presently, you shall know alt
that," replied he ; " now call up a cheerful
face."
" But my dress," I stammered, and tried
hastily to arrange it.
" Oh, you are handsome, my friend ! per-
fectly charming! See now, then, we are at
the door."
THE IMPR0VI8AT0RE. 217
first glance^ that she was a Jewess. I thought
upon Bernard's assertion that Annuneiata and
the beauty of Ghetto were the same person ;
but this was impossible, said I again in my
hearty when I looked at Annuneiata. A gen-
tleman also whom I did not know was in the
room; he rose, and she rose also, and came
towards me, half smiling, as Bernardo led me
in, and said, jestingly,
" My gracious signora, I have here the
honour to present the poet, my friend, the
excellent Abbe Antonio, a favourite of the
Borghese family."
'* Signora will forgive," said she ; " but it is
in truth no fault of mine that my acquaintance
is thrust upon you, however desirable yours
may be to me ! You have honoured me with a
poem," she continued, and crimsoned; '^your
friend mentioned you as the author, begged to
introduce you to me, when suddenly he saw
you in the street, and said, ' Now you shall see
him instantly,' and was gone before I could
reply or prevent that is his way; but you
know your friend better than I do."
Bernardo knew how to make a joke of it,
and I stammered out a few words about my
good fortune, my joy at being introduced to
her.
VOL. I. h
218 THE IHPR0VI8AT0RE.
My cliecks glowed ; ebe extended her hands
to me, and in iny rapture I pressed them to my
lips. She introduced the etraoger gentleman
to uic ; it was the chapet-master, or company's
leader of the band. The old lady, whom she
called her foster-mother, looked gravely, almost
sternly at Bernardo and me, but I soon for-
got that in Anouaciata's friendship and gay
humour.
The chapet-master expressed himself as
obliged by my poem, and, offering me his
hand, invited me to write opera-text for bim,
and to begin at once.
1 to liini." inlen-iiiileil :
THE IMPROVISATORE. 219
here he will have fifes and drums, and you
must dance after them. The prima donna
says that she will not sing unless you bring in
an aria for a brilliant exit. She understands
the furiose maestoso, and whether it succeed or
not the author must answer for. The prima tenor
makes the same demands. You roust fly from
the prima to the tertia donna, to the bass and
tenor^ must bow, flatter, endure all that our hu-
mours can inflict; and that is not a little."
The chapel-master wished to interrupt her ;
but Annunciata noticed it not, and con-
tinued :
" Then comes the director, weighing, mea-
suring, throwing away ; and you must be his
most humble servant, even in folly and
stupidity. The mechanist .assures you that
the strength of the theatre will not bear this
arrangement, this decoration ; that they can-
not have it new painted : thus you must alter
this and that in the piece, which is called, in
theatrical language, ' to mend. ' The thea-
trical painter does not permit that this sea-
piece should be brought out in his new
decoration : this, like the rest, must also be
mended. Then the signora cannot make a
roulade on the syllable with which one of the
yerses ends : she will have one that ends with
'220 THE IMPROVISATORS.
an a, let it come from where it ma;. Yon
must mend joiirself, and mend your text ; and if
so be that tlie whole, like a new creation, comes
on the stage, joa may bare tlie pleasnre of
having it hisGed, and the composer exclaim,
" Ah, it is that miserable text which has
ruined the whole! The piaions of my melody
could not sustain the coIosbus : it mast fitll !"
^leri'ily came up the soand of music to as
from below. The csntival maskers came bnu-
ing over the square, and through the streets.
A loud acclamation mingled itself vith the
clapping of hands, and called us all to the
'vjtkIow. To bg HOW ?
THE IMPROYISATORE. 221
danced around him, and he nodded graciously
on all sides ; then they harnessed themselves
to his carfiage, to drag him through the
streets. At that moment, his eye fell on
Annunciata ; he recognised her, nodded fami-
liarly to her, and said, as he was drawn along,
" Yesterday, thee : to-day, me ! Pure Roman
hlood before the chariot ! "
I saw Annunciata become crimson and
step back ; but in a moment, recovering her-
self, she bent forward over the balcony, and
said to him aloud, ^' Enjoy thy good fortune!
Thoa art unworthy of it, like me ! "
They had seen her, heard her words, and
her reply. A " vivat ! " resounded through
the air, and bouquets of flowers flew up around
her. One of them struck her shoulder, and^
flew into my bosom. I pressed it close : it
was to me a treasure which I would not have
lost.
Bernardo was indignant at what he called
the pulchinellos' audacity, and wished to go
down immediately, and chastise the fellows ;
bat the chapel-master, as well as the rest,
prevented him, and treated the whole as a
jest.
The servant announced the first tenor-singer :
he brought with him an abbe and a foreign
2"22 THE IMPROVISATORE.
artist, who desired to be iotrodaced to Annan-
Gtala. The next moment came fresh visitors,
foreign artists, who introduced ftemselves,
and brought her their homage. We were
altogether a large party. They spoke of the
niei'ry Festino the last evening, at the Theatre
Argentina; of the various artist masks that
represented the celebrated statues Apollo Musa-
getes, the Gladiators, and the Discus-throwers.
The only one who took no part in the conver-
sation was the old lady whom I took for a
Jewess: she sat silent, busied over her stock-
ing, and nodded very slightly when Annun-
ciata several times during the conversation
THE IMPROVISATORE. 223
evening to appear in La Pruova d'un Opera
Seria. With a friendly nod of the head, she
vanished into a side-room.
'* How happy you have made me, Ber-
nardo!'* I exclaimed aloud to him, when we
were scarcely out of the house-door. " How
lovely she is, lovely as in song and acting!
But how, in^all the world, did you get admitted
to her? how so suddenly make her acquain-
tance ? I cannot understand it : it all seems
to me a dream, even that I myself have been
near to her ! "
" How did I get admitted ? " replied he ;
" Oh, quite simply ! I considered it my duty as
one of the young nobility of Rome, and as one
of his holiness's guard of honour, and as an
admirer of all beauty, to go and pay my
respects. Love did not require one-half of
these reasons. It was thus that I introduced
myself; and that I could introduce myself
equally well as those whom you yourself saw
arrive without announcer or keeper needs
no doubt whatever. When I am in love, I
am always interesting ; and thus you can very
well see that I should be vei7 amusing. We
all had become^ after the first half hour, so
well acquainted with each other, that I could
very well bring you in, as soon as I saw you."
2'24 THE INPBOrtSATOBB.
"You love her?" I inquired, "loTe her,
right honestly ? "
" Yei, more than ever ! " exeluraed be ; *
" and what I told ;ou, of her being the ^rl
who gave me wine at the old Jew's, I faave
now no doubt about. She reco^ised me,
when t stepped before her, I saw that
plainly ; even the old Jew mother, who did
not say a word, hut only sat and beat time
with her head, and lost her knitting-needle,
is to mc a Solomon's seal to the tmtb of
my conjecture. Yet Aauunciata is Hot a
Jewess, It was her dark hair ^her dark eyes
-lln' cirtumslanccs and the place where 1 .
THE IMPROVISATORS. 225
as id well known, the fruit of the most wanton,
fantastical humour, scarcely any connecting
thread goes through the whole. Poet and
composer have had no other intention than to
excite laughter, and to give the singers oppor-
tunity of shining. There is here a passionate,
whimsical prima donna, and a composer who
plays in the same spirit together with caprice ^
on caprice of the other theatrical people, that
strange race, which must be managed in their
own way, probably as poison, which can both
kill and cure. The poor poet skips about
among them, like a lightly esteemed victim.
Shouts and garlands of flowers greeted
Annunciata. The humour, the liveliness
which she shewed, was called the highest art
I called it nature. It was exactly thus that she
had been at home ; and now, when she sung,
it was as if a thousand silver bells were ring-
ing the changes of a delicious harmony, which
infused that gladness into every heart which
beamed from her eyes.
The duet between her and il camposUore
delta musica, in which they change parts, she
singing that of the man, and he that of the
lady, was a triumph to them both as per-
formers ; but in particular was every one cap-
tivated by her transitions from the deepest
l2
226 THE IMPROVtSATORB.
counter-tenor to tbe highest suprana. In her
liglit, graceful dancing she resembled Terpsi-
chore upon the Etruscan vase ; every motion
might have been a study for a painter or a
sculptor. The ^rbole graceful animatioD
seemed to me a developement of her own indi-
viduality, with which I had to-day become ac-
|uaiiited. The personation of Dido was to me
artistic study : her " prima donna " this even-
ing was a realisation of the most complete
actuality.
Without having particular relation to the
piece, there are great bravura-arias introduced
into it from other operas. By the archness
THE IMPROVISATORE. 227
tivated to my very soul, and felt myself half
faint with exultation.
Annunciata was a wild, wilful child, but
most loveable in her wilfulness. Her song
burst forth like the wild dithyrambics of the
bacchantes; even in gaiety I could not follow
her : her wilfulness was spiritual, beautiful, and
great, and, as I looked at her, I could not but
think on Guido Reni's glorious ceiling-painting
of Aurora, where the Hours dance before the
chariot of the Sun. One of these has a won-
derful resemblance to the portrait of Beatrice
Cinci, but as one must see in the gayest time
of her life. This expression I found again in
Annunciata. Had I been a sculptor, I should
have designed her in marble, and the world
would have called the statue InnocentJoy.
Higher and yet higher, in wild dissonances,
stormed the orchestra} the composer and
prima donna accompanied them. " Glorious!"
they now exclaimed, " the overture is at an
end ; let the curtain rise ! " And so it falls, and
the farce was ended ; but, as on the preceding
night, Annunciata must again come forth, and
garlands, and flowers, and poems, with flutter-
ing ribands, flew towards her.
Several young men of my age, some of whom
I knew, had arranged that night to give her a
228 THE IVraOTISATOBI.
serenade ; I wbb to be one of theHK It WM U
age since I had sung.
An lionr after the play, when she had Hmred
St home, our little band adranced to the Piam
Colonna. The musicians were stationed nnder
the balcony, where we still saw light behind the
lonv curtains. My whole sodI was in agitation.
I thought only on her. My Bong mingled itself
fearlessly with the others ; I sang also a bdIo-
arie. I felt all that which I breathed forth.
Erery thing in the world passed away from
me. My voice bad a power, a softness which
I had never imagined before. My companlotM
could not restrun a fiint bravo, bnt yet snffi-
^She was in raptures with the delicious tenor
Toice which she had lieard in the serenade. I
crimsoned deeply. One of the persons present
suggested that I might be the singer; on which
she drew me to the piano, and desired that I
would sing a duet with her. I stood there like
one about to be condemned, and assured them
ibat it was impossible to me. They besought
me, and Bernardo scolded because I thus de-
prived them of the pleasure of hearing the
signora. She took me by the hand, and I was
a captive bird ; it mattered but little that I
fluttered my wings, I must sing. The duet
was one with which I was acquainted. Annun-
ciata struck up and raised her voice. With a
tremulous tone I began my adagio. Her eye
rested upon me as if she would say, ** Courage !
courage! follow me into my world of melody!'*
and I thought and dreamed only on this and
Annnnciata. My fear vanished, and I boldly
ended the song. A storm of applause saluted
us both, and even the old silent woman nodded
to me kindly.
* My good fellow,'* whispered Bernardo to
me, ** you have amazed me !" and then he told
tbem all that I possessed yet another gift equally
glorious I was an Improvisatore also, and that
I must delight them by giving them a proof of
'230 THB lUPROTISATOBB.
!t. My whole soul wag in excitement. Flat-
tered on account of my aing^a^, aod tolerably
secure of my own power, there needed only
that Autiunciata should express the wish for
me, for the fii-sttime, asayouth, to have bold-
ness eiiougli to improvise.
I seized her guitar; she gave me the word
" Immortality." I rapidly thought over the
rich subject, struck a few chords, and then
began my poem ae it was bora in my soul. My
genius led me over the sulphur-blue Mediter^
raneatt to the wildly fertile valtej^ of Greece.
Athens lay in ruins; the wild fig-tree grew
above the broken capitals, and the spirit heaved
THE IMPROYISATORE. 231
of Athens, beautifully exalted to divinity,
which the white marble preserves for future
generations. " Immortality," sang my genius,
" is beauty, but not earthly power and strength,"
and wafting itself across the sea to Italy, to the
city of the world, it gazed silently from the
remains of the Capitol over ancient Rome.
The Tiber whirled along its yellow waters, and
where Hora tins . Codes once combated boats
now pass along, laden with wood and oil, for
Ostia. Where Curtius sprang from the forum
into the flaming gulf, the cattle now lie down
in the tall grass. Augustus and Titus ! proud
names, which now the ruined temple and arch
alone commemorate ! Rome's eagle, the mighty
bird of Jupiter, is dead in its nest. Rome,
where is thy immortality? There flashed the
eye of the eagle. Excommunication goes forth
over ascending Europe. The overturned throne
of Rome was the chair of St. Peter ; and kings
came as barefoot pilgrims to the holy city
Rome, mistress of the world ! But in the
flight of centuries was heard the toll of death
death to all that the hand can seize upon, that
the human eye can discern! But can the
sword of St. Peter really rust ? The eagle flies
forth from the east to the west. Can the power
of the Church decline? Can the impossible
232 THE IHPSOnSi.TOBB.
bnppen ? Rome still ataads prondly in her rams
with the gods of antiquity and her holy pic-
tures which rule the world by eternal art. To thy
mount, O Rome ! will the eons of Europe come
ae pilgrims for ever ; from the east and from
the west, from the cold north will they come
hither, and in iheir hearts acknowledge 7
"Rome, thy power is immortall"
The most vehement applause saluted me as
I concluded this stanza. Annunciata alone
moved not a hand, but, silent and beeutiftil u
an image of Venus, she looked into my eyef
with a confiding glance, the silent langni^eof a
full heart, and again words flowed from my lips
THB IMPROVISATORE. 233
grave of tbe Madonna ; all becomes flowers
and odour; the dead ascend from it more
beautiful, and his mighty song intones for her
Immortality!'"
My eye rested on Annunciata ; my thoughts
had found words; I bowed low, and all sur-
rounded me with thanks and flattering: words.
* You have given me the sincerest pleasure,"
said Annunciata^ and looked confldingly into
my eyes. I ventured to kiss her hand.
My poetic power had excited in her a higher
mterest for me. She discovered already that
which I myself perceived only afterwards, that
my love for her had misled me in placing her
art, and she who exercised it, within the range
of immortality, which it could never reach.
Dramatic art is like a rainbow, a heavenly
splendour, a bridge between heaven and earth ;
it is admired, and then vanishes with all its
colours.
I visited her daily. The few carnival-days
were over, flown like a dream ; but I enjoyed
them thoroughly, for with Annunciata I drank
in large draughts of life-enjoyment, such as I
never had known before.
" You are really beginning to be a man!
said Bernardo, " a man like the rest of us, and
yet you have only sipped of the cup. I dare
234 THE IMPB0TI8AT0BB.
swenr now that yon never gave a ^I a kiia
never rested your head on bar shoulder! Sup-
pose now that Annunciata loved youl"
" What are you thinking of?" I replied, half
angry ; and the blood burned in my cheeks,"
" Annunciata, that glorious woman that stands
so high above ine !"
" Yes, my frieud, high or low, she ia a
woman, and you are a poet, of whose mutual
relationship no one can form a judgment. If
tlie joet have the first place in a heart, he is
possessed also of the key which can lock the
beloved in."
' It is ajiiiinuion lor liei- wliicli fill, iiiv soul ;
THE IMPROVISATORE. 235
should not cast those significant fiery glances at
her. I counsel you thus for her sake. What do
you think others must think of it? But, in the
meantime, she goes away the day after to-mor-
Tow, and who knows whether she may come
back again after Easter, as she has promised.'*
For five long weeks Annunciata was about
to leave us. She was engaged for the theatre
at Florence^ and the journey was fixed for the
first day in Lent.
** Then she will have a new troop of adorers !"
said Bernardo. *' The old ones will be soon
forgotten ; yes, even your beautiful improvi-
sation^ for the sake of which she casts such
loving looks at you, that one is regularly
shocked. But he is a fool who thinks only
of one woman ! They are all ours ! the field
is full of flowers ; one can gather every where."
In the evening we were together at the
theatre; it was the last time of Annunciata's
appearance before her journey. We saw her
again as Dido, and in acting and singing she
^tood as high as at the first time ; higher she
could not be, it was the perfection of art.
She was again to me the pure ideal which I
liad that evening conceived. The gay humour,
the playful petulance, which she had shewn
in the farcical opera, and even in life, seemed
236 THE 1MPB6TISAT0RB.
to me a gaudy world-dress which she pat on ;
it became her very well ; but in Dido she
exhibited her whole soul, her peculiar and
spiritual identity. Rapture and applause sa-
luted her; greater it could hardljhave been
when the enthusiastic Roman people greeted
Ceesar and Titus.
With the honest thanks of an agitated heart
she spoke her farewell to as all, and promised
Boon to return. *' Bravo ! " resounded from
the overflowing house. Ag^in and again they
demanded to see her; and, in triumph, as at
the first time, they drew her carriage throu^
the streets; I was among the first of them!
THE IMPROVIS'ATORE. 237
tinctly saw the whole ; the wooded Appennines
scattered over with villas; the Piazza del gran
Daca, and all the old magificeDt palaces.
** I shall see again the glorious gallery,"
said she, '* where ray love for sculpture was
first excited, and where I perceived first the
greatness of the human soul, which was ahle,
like a Prometheus, to breathe life into the
dead! Would that I at this moment could
lead you into one of the rooms, the least of
them all, but to me the dearest, the ve^
remembrance of which makes me happy. In
that little octagon room hang only select
masterpieces; but all fade before one living
marble figure, the Medicean Venus! Never
did I see such a living expression in stone.
The marble eye, otherwise without the power
of sight, lives here! The artist has so formed
it, '* that by the help of light it seems to see,
to look into our very souls ; it is the goddess
lierself, born of the ocean-foam, that stands
l)efore us. Upon the wall behind the statue
hsng two magnificent pictures of Venus, by
Titian ; they are, in life and colouring, the god-
dess of beauty, but only earthly beauty rich,
luxurious beauty ; the marble goddess is hea-
venly! Raphael's Fornarina, and the super-
human Madonnas, excite my mind and my
238 THE IMPR0V18ATOBE.
heart; but I always turn back again to the
Venus ; it stands before me, not like ao image,
but full of light and life, looking into my soul
with her marble eyes! t know no statae,
no group, which speaks to me thus ; no, not
even the Laocoon, although the marble weaa
to sigh with pain. Tbe Apollo of the Vatican,
ivhich you certainly know, alone seems to me
a worthy companion piece. The power and
intellectual greatness which the sculptor has
^iven to the poet-god is exhibited with more
feminine nobility in the goddess of beauty,''
" I know the glorious statue in plaster of
Paris," replied I ; " i bavu seen good (
THE IMPROVISATORE. 239
the girondola/' replied she. " IiiUhe mean-
time think kindly on me as I, in the gal-
lery at Florence, will often remember you,
and wish that yoa were there ; and looking at
that treasure! ^That is always the way with me
whenever I see any thing beautiful I long for
my friends^ and wish that they were with me
to participate in my pleasure. That is my
kind of home-sickness."
She extended to me her hand, which I kissed,
and ventured to say, half in jest, *' Will you
convey my kiss to the Medicean Venus?"
"Then it does not belong to me?" said
Amiunciata. " Well, I will honestly take
care of it;" and with this she nodded to me most
kindly, and thanked me for the happy hours
^hich I had caused her with my singing and
ttiy improvisation.
"We shall see one another again," said
^he; and, like a dreamer, I left the room.
Outside the door I met the old lady, wlio
^^loted me more kindly than common; and
*^^ my excited state of mind I kissed her hand,
^fce slapped me gently on the shoulder, and
*- leard her say, *' He is a good creature ! " I
"^"^ now in the street, happy in the friendship
^^Annunciata, and enraptured with her mind
^id her beauty.
240 THE IMPBOVISATORE.
I felt lyyself in the right humour to enjoy
this last (lay of the carnival. I could not iiii&
glue to myself that Annuuciata was about to
leave Rome, our leave-taking had seemed so
easy ; I could not but think that our meetiug
again must be on the morrow. All unmasked
as I was, I took the liveliest part in the combat
of comfits. Eveiy chair through the whole
Imgth of the streets was occupied ; every bal-
cony and window was full of people ; carriages
drove up and down, and the gay throng of
liuiimn beings, like a billowy stream, moved
among tliem. In order to breathe a. little
more freely, I was obliged to spring boldly
THE IMPROVISATORE. 241
nor backward from the spot : the foam of the
Jiorses behind me flew about my ears. In
this press I sprang up behind one of the car-
riages, in which sat two masks, who were, as
it seemed, a fat old gentleman in dressing-
gown and night-cap, and a pretty flower-girl.
She had instantly seen that it was not out of
lawlessness, but rather from fear, and there-
fore she patted me with her hand, and offered
me two comfits for refreshment. The old gen-
tleman, on the contrary, threw a whole basket-
ful into my face, and, as the space behind me
was now somewhat more free, the flower-
girl did the same; so that I, not having any
weapons of the same kind, quite powdered
over from top to toe, was compelled to make
a hasty retreat. Two harlequins brushed me
merrily with their maces ; but when the car-
jiage again, in its turn, passed me, the same
tempest began auew. 1 therefore determined
to defend myself, in return, with comfits ; but
the cannon was fired, the carriages were forced
into the narrow side-streets, to give place to
the horse-racing, and my two masks disap-
peared from my sight.
They seemed to know me. Who could
they be? I had not seen Bernardo in the
Corso through the whole day. A thought
VOL. I. M
242 THi: 1MPROVI6AT0KE.
occiit'ied to me that tLe old gentleman in the
lrL-ssing-^owii and night-cap might be be,
anil the pretty shepherdess his so-called " tame
bird." \'ery gladly would I have aeen her
face. 1 lind taken mj place on a chair close
to tlie corner, the cannon-shot was soon heard,
and liic horses rushed through the Coreo up
tuwiirds the Venetian Square. The human
ina^s immediately filled the street ^ain hehind
theni, and I was just about to dismount, when
a tearful CTy resounded " Cavallo /"
One of the horses, the first which reached
the t;oal, had not been secured, and had now.
THE IMPROYISATORE. 243
sparks which flew from his hoofs, and at once,
as if struck with a shot, drop dead to the
earth. Anxiously inquired every one from his
ndghboiur whether some misfortune had not
happened. But the Madonna had held a pro-
tecting hand over her people; nohody was
hurt, and the danger so happily past made
the public mind still gayer, and much wilder
than ever.
A s^n was made, which announced that all
order in driving was now at an end, and the
glorious moccoloy the splendid finale of the
carnival, had begun. The carriages now drove
one amongst another ; the confusion and the
tumult became still greater ; the darkness in-
creased every minute, and every one lighted
his little candle, some whole bundles of them.
In every window lights were placed ; houses
and carriages, in the quiet, glorious evening,
looked as if scattered over with these glim-
mering stars. Paper-lanterns, and pyramids
of light, swung upon tall poles across the
street. Every one was endeavouring to pro-
tect his own light, and to extinguish his neigh-
bour's ; whilst the cry, " Sia ammazato chi non
porta maccolor* sounded forth with increasing
wildness.
In vain I tried to defend mine ; it was blown
iiionieiit. I tliri3 it awav, aud
lipcllcil every body to tlo the same. The
is by the sides of the houses stuck their
t behind them through the cellar windows,
Jul cried out to me, laughing, " Si-nza inoc-
Pli/o." They fancied tlieir own lights safe, but
children from within climbed up to the
litidows, and blew them out. Little paper
lalloons aud lighted lamps came waving dowB
iom tlio upper windows, wlicre people sat with
liundrcds of little burning lights, whicli they
held oil long canes over the street, crying all
the time, " Let every one perish who does
not carry a taper!" whilst fresh figures, in
the meantime, clambered up the sponts with
their pocket-handkerchiefs fastened on long
sticks, with which to put out every light, hold-
ing up theirs aloft tlie while, and exclaiming,
" .Senza moccalo .'" A stranger who has nerer
it can form no idea of the deafening noise,
i_the throng. The air is thick
"human beings
THE IMPROVISATORE. 245
bouquet of burning tapers aloft on a cane four
or five ells long. She laughed aloud for joy
that nobody could reach it with their hand-
kerchiefs, and the man in the dressing-gown
overwhelmed every body with comfits who
ventured to approach them. I would not
allow myself to be terrified; in a moment I
had mounted on the back of the carriage, and
seized hold of the cane, although I heard a
beseeching " No," and her companion assailed
me with gypsum bullets, and that not spa-
ringly. I seized fast hold of the cane in order
to extinguish the lights; the ca,;ne broke in
my hand, and the brilliant bouquet fell to the
earth amid the shouting of the people.
"Fie, Antonio!" cried the flower-girl. It
pierced me through bone and marrow ; for it
was Annunciata's voice. She threw all her
comfits at my face, and the basket into the bar-
gain. In my astonishment I leaped down, and
the carriage rolled on. I saw, however, a nose-
gay of flowers thrown to me as a token of
reconciliation. I caught at it in the air, and
would have followed them, but it was impos-
sible to slip out; for the carriages were all
entangled, and there was the utmost confusion,
although some turned to one side and some to
the other. At length I escaped into a side-
2^6 THE 1UPB0VI9AT0HE.
street; but when I was able to breathe more
freely I perceived a lieavy weight at ray heart.
" Witli whom was Annimciata driviog?"
That she wished to eojoy this, the last day of
the carnival, seemed to me very natur^ ; bat
the gtiitleinan in the dressiiig-gown ? Ah, ye,
my first conjecture was certainly correct; it
must be Bernardo ! I determined to convince
myself of it. 1 ran in haste through the cron-
etreets, and came to the Piazza Colonna, where
Annuuciata lived, and posted myself by the
door to await her arrival. Before long the
carriage drove up, and, as if I had been the
THE IMPROVISATORE. 247
and shouted aloud the wild cry, " Perish every
one who carries not a taper!" and ail the while
had not one myself. I thought in the mean-
time only on her and the good old woman, who
had donned the dressing-gown and night-cap
in order to enjoy the carnival fun, for which
die did not seem created. And how beautiful
and natural it was of Annunciata, that she had
not gone driving about with strangers, and had
not given a seat in her carriage to Bernardo,
nor even to the chapel-master! That I, the
moment I recognised her, had become jealous of
the night-cap, was a something which I would
not acknowledge. Happy and merry as I was,
I resolved to spend in pleasure the few hours
which yet remained before the carnival had
passed like a dream.
I went into the Festino. The whole theatre
was decorated with garlands of lamps and lights
all the boxes were filled with masks, and
strangers without masks. From the pit a high
broad step led to the stage, covering in the nar-
row orchestra, and was decorated with drapery
and garlands for a ball-room. Two orchestras
played alternately. A crowd of quaqueri and
vetturini masks danced a merry ring-dance
around the Bacchus and Ariadne. They drew
me into their circle ; and, in the gladness of my
248 THE IMPBOVISATOBE.
heart, I inude my first d&ncing-esgay, and found
it so delightful that it did not remain the last.
No ! for as, somewhat late at night, I hastened
home, I danced ahout yet once more with the
merry masks, and cried with them, " The hap-
piest night after the most beautiful carnival!"
My sleep was only short. I thought in the
lovely morning-hour on Annunciata, who now,
perhaps, at this moment left Rome thought
upon the merry carnival-days, which seemed
to have created a new life for me, and which
now, with all their exultation and tumult,
vtiuished for ever. I had no rest I must
THE IMPR0VI8AT0RE.
249
around the many boxes that were put behind.
From one of the side -streets came another
similarly laden coach. All went hence. They
went to Naples or Horence. Rome would be
as if dead for five long weeks, from Ash- Wed-
nesday till Easter.
112
CHAPTER XII.
X.ENT ALLEGRI E UISERERE IN THE SIXTINE
CHAPEL VISIT TO BEHKARDO ASNCNCIATA.
Still and tleatliHke slid on tlie weary day.
Ill thought I recalled and revived the Bpectacle
THE IMPROVISATORE. 251
also who had introduced me to her. I had
Bssured him that it was admiration, and nothing
more, which I felt for her him, my only friend
him, whom I had so often assured of my
heart's fidelity towards him. I was false and
mijust. There burned in my heart the fire of
remorse, but still my thoughts could not tear
themselves from Annunciata. Every recollec-
tion of her, of my most happy hours spent with
her, sunk me into the deepest melancholy.
Thus contemplate we the smiling image, beau-
tifnl as life, of the beloved dead ; and the more
lifelike, the more kindly it smiles, the stronger
18 the melancholy which seizes us. The great
struggle of life, of which I had so often been
told at school, and which I had fancied was
nothing more than the difficulties of a task, or
the ill-humour or unreasonableness of a teacher,
I now, for the fii'st time, began to feel. If I
were to overcome this passion which had awoke
within me, would not my former peace cer-
tainly return? To what, also, could this love
tend ? Annunciata stood high in her art ; yet
the world would condemn me if I forsook my
calling to follow her. The Madonna, too, would
be angry ; for I had been born and brought up
as her servant. Bernardo would never forgive
jne ; and I did not know, either, whether An-
S52 THE IMPB0VI6AT0RB.
nimciata loved me. That was at the bottom
the bitterest thought to me. In vain I cast
myself, in the clinrch, before the image of the
Madonna , in vain I besought her to strengthen
my soul in my great struggle, for even here vaj
sin \ras increased the Madoona was to me tike
Annuuciata. It seemed to me that the couq-
tenance of every beautiful woman wore that
intellectual expression which existed in that
of Annuuciata. No; I will rend these feelings
out of my soul ! I wilt never agun see her !
I now fully comprehended what I never
could understand before why people felt im-
THE IMPROVISATORE. 253
Lent were here to be obtained. Every even-
ing they lighted the gay-coloured paper-
lamps under the green boughs. How had I,
as a child, delighted myself with these things!
how happy had I been in the splendid booth
of the bacon -dealer, which in Lent glittered
like a world of fancy! The pretty angels of
butter danced in a temple, of which sausages,
wreathed with silver, formed the pillars, and a
Parmesan cheese the cupola! My first poem,
to be sure, had been about all this magni-
ficence ; and the bacon-dealer s lady had called
it a Divina Cammedia dl Dante! Then I had
iieard not Annunciata, but neither did I
Sinow any singer. Would that I could forget
-Annunciata !
I went with the procession to the seven holy
^^hurches of Rome, mingled my song with those
^Df the pilgrims, and my emotions were deep and
sincere. But one day Bernardo whispered into
iiy ear, with demon-like mirth ; " The merry
lawyer on the Corso the bold improvisatore,
irith penitence in his eyes, and ashes on his
cheeks ! Ay, how well you can do it all ! how
you understand every part ! I cannot imitate
you here, Antonio ! " There was a jeer, and
yet, at the same time, an apparent truth in his
words, which wounded me deeply.
lat
port*
del
an"-
o'-^^i:^'
:o^'
io'
most
lftSO"
*==V
^vics.
to'
W
I.
THE IMPROYISATORE. 255
boys of ten years old. They all wore the most
expensive nniforms, of the most showy and
ill-matched colours. As for example, one
wore a light blue coat, embroidered with
sOyer, gold upon the slippers, and a sort of
turban with feathers and pearls. But this
was not anything new at the festivals in Rome*
where a uniform obtained for its wearer a
better seat. The people who were near smiled
it it, but it did not occupy me long.
The old cardinals entered in their magnificent
iolet-coloured velvet cloaks, with their white
cnnine capes ; and seated themselves side by
We, in a great half-circle, within the barrier,
whilst the priests who had carried their trains
^ted themselves at their feet. By the little side-
"^r of the altar the holy father now entered in
^'^ purple mantle and silver tiara. He ascended
'^^ throne. Bishops swung the vessels of incense
X^nd him, whilst young priests, in scarlet
^^^tments, knelt, with lighted torches in their
^^ds, before him and the high altar.
Ihe reading of the lessons began.* But it
'* Before the coiiinicnccment of the Miserere, fifteen
^^g lessons are read ; and, at the close of each one, a
^Klrt in the grand candelabra is extinguished, there
"^^ a light for every lesson. Author's Note.
26G THE IMPROVISATORE.
was impossible to keep the eyes fixed on tlie
lifeless letters of tlie Missal they raised them-
selves, with tbe thoughts, to the vast universe
which Michael Angelo has breathed forth in
colours upon tbe ceiling and the walls. I con-
templated his mighty sybils and wondrously
glorious prophets, every one of them a subject
for a painting. My eyes drank in the m^ni-
ficcut processions, tbe beautiful groups of
angels ; they were not to me painted pictares,
all stood living before me. The rich Uree of
knowledge, from which Eve gave tbe fruit to
Adaui ; tbe Almighty God, who flouted over
THE IMPROVISATORE. 257
feefoi-e the power of Michael Angelo. Every
propbet is a Moses like that which he formed
in xnarble. What giant forms are those
whicli seize upon our eye and our thoughts as
we enter ! But, when intoxicated with this
Tiew, let us turn our eyes to the back-ground
of the chapel, whose whole wall is a high altar
of art and thought. The great chaotic pic-
tare, from the floor to the roof, shews itself
there like a jewel, of which all the rest is only
tlie setting. We see there the Last Judg-
ment.
Christ stands in judgment upon the clouds,
wad the apostles and his mother stretch forth
their hands beseechingly for the poor human
^e. The dead raise the grave-stones under
^tich they have lain ; blessed spirits float up-
^^ds, adoring to God, whilst the abyss seizes
*^ victims. Here one of the ascending spirits
^^ks to save his condemned brother, whom
^he abyss already embraces in its snaky folds,
^he children of despair strike their clenched
"*ts upon their brows, and sink into the
"^Ptb! In bold foreshortening, float and
^ttible whole legions between heaven and
^'Ih. The sympathy of the angels ; the ex-
P'^ion of lovers who meet ; the child that, at
^"6 soand of the trumpet, clings to the mo-
258 TBB lUPBOVISATOBB.
titer's breast, is oo nstanl and beautiful, that
on believes one's self to be one amongf tboK
vho are waiting for jadgment. Michad An-
gelo has expressed in colonrs what Dantt
saw and has song to the generations of tbe
eartb.
The descending sun, at that moment, tltnw
his last beams in throngh the uppermost wis*
dow. Christ, and the blessed around Ua,
vere strot^ly lighted np ; whilst the lower
part, where tbe dead arose, and the demoni
thrnst their boat, laden with damned froM
shore, were almost in darkness.
THE IMPROVISATORE. 259
Aot from a human breast : it was not a man's
J^ot a woman's : it belonged to the world of
spirits : it was like the weeping of angels dis-
solved in melodv.
Id this world of harmony my soul imbibed
*t.xength and the fulness of life. I felt myself
joyful and strong, as I had not been for a long
tine. Annunciata, Bernardo, all my love,
passed before my thought. I loved, in this
nioment, as blessed spirits may love. The peace
^vv-liich I had sought in prayer, but had not
&Hittd, flowed now, with these tones, into my
lieart.
When the Miserere was ended, and the peo-
ple all had gone away, I was sitting with
^rnardo in his room. I offered him my hand
* sincerity, spoke all that my excited soul
Stated. My lips became eloquent. AUegri's
Miserere, our friendship, all the adventures of
^y singular life, furnished material. I told
*^ haw morally strong the music had made
^. how heavy my heart had been previously
7*^y sufferings, anxiety, and melancholy, dur-
^ the whole of Lent ; yet, without confessing
1^^ great a share he and Aununciata had had
^ the whole : this was the only little fold of
^y heart which I did not unveil to him. He
^^hed at me, and said, that I was a poor
-'CO THE lUPROVISATORE.
sort of a man; that the sbepherd-Iife, with
Doiiieiiica and the Signora, all that woman's
education, and, last of all, the Jesnit school,
hm\ quite been the ruin of me ; that my hot
Italian blood had been thinned with goat's
milk ; tliat my Trappist-hermit life had made
inp sick ; that it was necessary for nie to have
a little tame bird, which would sing me oat of
my dream-world; that I ought to he a man.
like other folks, and then I should find myself
sound both body and soul.
" We are very different, Bernardo," said -I;
nil yet my heart is wonderfully attached to
THE IMPROVISATORE. 26' 1
if they met, be extiDguished. Love is desire,
and desire dies when gratified."
** But if, now, your wife were beautiful and
discreet as "
*'As Annunciata," said he, seeing that I
hesitated for the name which I wanted. " Yes,
Antonio, I would look at the beautiful rose as
long as it were fresh ; and wlien the leaves
withered and the fragrance was lost, God
Imows what I then should have a fancy for.
At this moment, however, I have a very curious
one, and I have felt something like it before.
I have a wish to see how red your blood is,
Antonio! But I am a reasonable man you
are my friend, my honest friend ; we will not
fight, even if we cross each other in the same
love-adventure ! " And with this he laughed
loud, pressed me violently to his breast, and
8aid, half-jestingly, " I will make over to you
my tame bird ; it begins to be sensitive, and
will certainly please you ! Go with me this
evening; confidential friends need not hide
any thing from one another ; we will have a
merry evening ! On Sunday the holy father
will give us all his blessing!"
" I shall not go with you," I replied.
"You are a coward, Antonio!" said he;
''do not let the goat*s milk entirely subject
1G2 THE IMPROVISATOHE,
your blood ! Your eye om burn like mine ; i *
CRD truly bum ; 1 hKve seen it! Your sufleC^
iugs, your anxiety, yntir penitencn in Leni '
yes, slall [ ojienly lell you the reuon of thora *
I know it very well, Autonio ; yon caonot biH^*
it from mc ! Now, tbcn. clup Bestity to you^^
bcHrt only you Iivt! not the couni^ yoo ^^
a coward, or "
" ^'our conremtion, Benirdo,*' replied l^r:^
"oifeiids me!"
" But you must endure it. thougb," he stt-^
Bwered. At these words tlic blood taottotoC--'
into my cheeks, wliibt niy eyes filled with '
tears.
" Can you thus s]ort wilb my devotion for"^
you?" 1 cried. " Do you fancy tliai I bsTe^^
come between you and Annuuciata ; taiicy duC^
sbe has regarded me with more kindne&s ihui^^
yourself?"
" Ob, no !" interrupted be ; " you know vw^^'
well llmt I baTO nut sueb a virid fancy, fia^
THE IMPROVISATORE. 263
This probably was the sting in our conversa-
^on the part which went to my heart, and,
^ to say, went into the blood: I. felt myself
bounded, and yet in his hand-pressure^ at part-
^^9 there was a something cordial.
The next day, which was Green-Thursday,
^Ued me to the church of St. Peter's, into
'^hose magnificent vestibule, the greatness of
^uich has indeed led some strangers to imagine
**^t it was the whole church, as great a throng
^^ found as was seen in the streets and across
**^ bridge of St. Angelo. It was as if the
^hole of Rome flocked here to wonder, evea
^ ixiuch as strangers did, at the greatness of
^"^e church, which seemed more and more to
^tend itself to the throng.
Singing resounded above us; two great
^oirs, in different parts of the nave of the
^Wrch, replied to each other. The throng
^wded to witness the feet-washing, which had
J'^ begun.* From the barrier behind which
^^ stranger ladies were seated, one of them
'^^ded kindly to me. It was Annunciata.
^e was come was here in the church; my
* On Green- Thursday the Pope washes the feet of
^^^irteen priests, old and young ; they kiss his hand, and
fe gives to them a bouquet of blue gillyflowers.
Axthor's Nate.
-'ni IHE IMPROVISATOHE,
heart beat violently. I stood so near to her
that I could hid her welcome 1
She had Birived the day before, bat still too
late to hear Allan's Miserere; yet she had
been present at the Are Muia in the ehoich
of St. Peter's.
" The extraordinary gloom," said she, *' made
all more imposing than now by day-light ! Not ^
a light burned, excepting the lamps at St, Pe-
ter's tomh ; these formed a wreath of light, and .
yet not strong enough to illamine the nearest .^^^
]iillar. AH marched aronnd in silence ; I, too, ^ ^
sank down, feeling right Tiridly bow very nmrfu-y.-
can he comprised in nothing : what force ther^kr-:^
lies in a religious silence !"
Her old friend, whom I now first disooTeredC si
and who wore a long veil, nodded kindly. Tk^cf b
soleum ceremony was in the meantime i
eluded, and they looked in vain for thar s(
vant, wlio should have attended them to tl
carnage. A crowd of young men had beeon
THE IMPBOVISATORE. 265
&]ong with the crowd, I felt her arm withia
xiiine ; it went like fire through my blood.
I found the carriage. When they were seated,
-Annunciata asked me to dine with them that
ilay, '^ Only to eat a meagre dinner/' said she,
** such as we may enjoy in Lent."
I was happy ! The old lady, who did not
liear well, understood, however, by the ezpres
%ion of Annunciata's face, that it was an invita-
tion^ but imagined ihat it was to take a seat
^ith them in the carriage. She, therefore, in a
^moment put aside all the shawls and cloaks
^^rhich lay on the seat opposite, and extended
ao me her hand, saying, '' Yes, be so good, Mr.
^bbe ! there is room enough ! "
That was not Annunciata's meaning : I saw
m slight crimson pass over her cheek ; but I
9at directly opposite to her, and the carriage
Tolled away.
A delicious little dinner awaited us. Annun-
oata spoke of her residence in Florence, and of
the festival of to-day ; inquired from me about
Lent in Rome, and how I had passed the time ;
a question which I could not answer quite can*
didly.
''You will certainly see the christening of
the Jews on Easter-day?" asked I, casting, at
VOL. I. N
, a ^kiict! at the old woman,
Wl liml quite fui^otten.
r (lid not hear it !" rejilied ATinunciala,
ifslie liail, you need not have minded, I
KQ to such places as eihe can accompany
r licr It would not be becomiug to
resent at the festival in the baptismal
(l-1 ol'CouBtantiue.* Neither is it very in-
fcting to me ; for it so rarely happens tliat
I from conviction that either Jews or Turks
eive baptism. 1 remember, in my cbild-
\i'l, what an unpleasant impression this whole
lade upon me. I saw a little Jew-boy,
) seemed to be seven years old ; he came
Inlt with the dirtiest shoes and stockings, witK
lin, uncombed Itair ; und, in the most painful
t with this, in n magnificent white silk
Rress, which the church had given him. The
parents, filthy as the boy, followed him; they
tad sold his soul for a happiness which the'
oiow themselves!"
THE IMPROVISATORE. 267
'* Yes !" returned she, crimsoning, " but yet,
for all that, I am not a Roman.''
"The first time Isawyou,and heardyou sing,"
said I, " it seemed to me that I had known
you before. I do not even know but I fancy
so still ! If we believed in the transmigration
of souls, I could &ncy that we both had been
birds, had hopped upon the same twigs, and had
known one another for a very long time. Is
there any kind of recollection in your soul?
nothing which says to you that we have seen
each other before ? "
*' Nothing at all!" replied Annunciata, and
looked me steadfastly in the face.
** As you have just told me that you were a
child in Rome, and consequently not, as I
thought, had passed all your young years in
Spain, a remembrance awoke in my soul, the
same which I felt the first time that you stood
before me as Dido. Have you never, as a
cliild, at Christmas, made a speech before the
little Jesus, in the church Ara Cceli, like other
children?"
'* That I have !" ei^claimed she, " and you,
Antonio, were the little boy who drew all
attention!"
** But was supplanted by you!" returned I.
** It was you, Antonio !" exclaimed she aloud.
268 THE IHPROVtSATORB.
seizing both my bands, aud looking into my
face witli an indescribably gentie expression.
The old lady drew her chair nearer to us, and
looked gravely at us. Annnnciata tben related
the whole to her, and she smiled at our recog-
nition-scene.
" How my mother and every body talked
about you," said I ; "of your delicate, almost
spirit-like form, and your sweet voice ! yes, I
was Jealous of you, my vanity could not endure
to be cast so wholly in the shade by any one.
How strangely patlis in life cross one another!"
"I remember you very well!" said she;
THE IMPROVISATORE. 269
" YesV* I replied, somewhat confused, '* he
fancied also that he knew you, that he had
seen you, I should say ; seen you, and con-
nected in such a way, as did not agree with
my conjecture. Your dark hair, your glance,
yes, you will not be angry with me, he
immediately changed his opinion ; he fancied
at the first moment that you were " I
hesitated, ^* that you were not of the Catholic
church, and thus that I could not have heard
you preach in Ara Cceli."
'^ That I was, perhaps, of the same faith as
my friend here?" said Annunciata, indicating
the old lady. I nodded involuntarily, but
seized her hand at the same time, and asked,
" Are you angry with me ?"
'^ Because your friend took me for a Jewish
maiden?" asked she, smiling; ''you are a
strange creature ! *'
I felt that our connexion in childhood had
made us more familiar; every care was for-
gotten by me, and also every resolution never
to see, never to love her. My soul burned
only for her.
The galleries were closed these two days
before Easter ; Annunciata said how charming
it must be, if, at this time, and quite at one's
ease, one could wander through them ; but
1;70 THE IHPItOVlSATORE.
lliiit ivas hardly jwssible. The wisb from her
lip^ \\a^ a command ; I knew tlie custodian
and tlie door-keejwr, all the dependants who
BOW were returned to the Palazzo Borgbete,
Afliere was one of the most interesting^ col-
lections in Rome, through wliich I, as a child,
Itad ;one n-ith FrancescD, and made acquaint-
ance with everj- little Love in Francesco
Alhaui's Four Seasons.
I entreated that I migltt take her and the
old liidy there the following day ; sLe consented,
and I was infinitely happy.
In my solitude at home I again tlionght on
THE IMPROVISATORE. 271
e person, his free and bold manner. Now,
^^ -H^d been his intention to deter me from agrain
^^^^tiing her. But a good angel had willed it
^^*^erwise! her gentleness, her eyes, all had
^*cl me that she loved me, that she had a kind-
^e8s for me, nay. more than a kindness, for
^*^o must have felt that I loved her!
In my joy I pressed hot kisses upon my
I^^llcw, but with this feeling of the happiness
^^ love a bitterness arose in my heart towards
^^mardo. I grew angry with myself for not
"'^^ving had more character, more warmth,
^^ore gall; now a hundred excellent answers
^curred to me, which I might have given
^0[i when he treated me the last time like a
"^y; every little affront which he had given
^o^ stood livingly before me. For the first
^^^e I felt the blood regularly boil in my veins ;
'^ot anger and the purest and best emotions,
Singled with a hateful bitterness, deprived me
^"^ sleep. It was not until towards morning
^^'it I slumbered a little, and then awoke
*^**onger and lighter of heart.
I announced to the custodian that I was
*tHiit to bring a foreign lady to see the gallery,
^^d then went to Annunciata. We drove all
^^Te to the Palazzo Borghese.
CHAPTER XIH.
THB PICTVBB OALLBBT A HOSB FEBCIBS '
EXPLANATIOK. EASTBR. THB TTJBMIKO
POINT OP HY BISTORT.
It was to me quite a peculiar feeling to con-
duct Annunciata to where I had played as a
boy nliere the signora had shewn to me tlie^
THE IMPROVISATORE. 273
** It is painted with soul and flame!" ex-
^^*iaed she. *' I admire the pencil of this
^^^ist, as regards colouring and expression;
*^^^t the subjects which he has chosen do not
I*^^ise me. I require, even in pictures, a kind
^^^ fitness, a noble purity in the selection of the
^^tjject; therefore Correggio's Danae pleases
^^^ less than it might do; beautiful is she,
^^v-ine is the little angel with the bright wings,
^liich sits upon the couch, and helps her to
Collect together the gold, but the subject is to
^ ignoble, it wounds, so to say, my heart's
feeling of beauty. For this reason is Raphael
^ great in my judgment ; in every thing that
I have seen of his, he is the apostle of inno-
^Jice, and he, therefore, alone has been able
^^ give us the Madonna ! "
'* But beauty, as a work of art," interrupted
^ *'can, however, make us overlook the want
^f nobility in subject."
*' Never!" replied Annunciata ; "art in every
^^e of its branches is high and holy ; and purity
*^ spirit is more attractive than purity of form ;
^^d therefore the ndhe representations of the
^^onna by the olden masters excite us so
^^Ply although, with their rough forms, they
^^n seem more like Chinese pictures, where
^^ is so stiff and hard. The spirit must be
n2
,,V.O"""''"-
ottiev'' ,i,ii SIM*"*' rr
THE IMPROVISATORE. 275
Seasons. I told her what an impression the
little Loves had made upon me as a child,
when I had lived and played about in this
gallery.
" You enjoyed happy life-points in your child-
hood ! " said she, repressing a sigh, which per-
haps had reference to her own.
" You, doubtless, no less so," replied I ; " you
stood, the first time I saw you, like a happy,
admired child, and, when we met the second
time, you captivated the whole of Rome, and
seemed happy. Were you so really at heart?"
I had bowed myself half down to her. She
looked directly into my face with an expression
of singular melancholy, and said, ''The admired,
happy child was fatherless and motherless a
homeless bird upon the leafless twig ; it might
have perished of hunger, but the despised Jew
gave it shelter and food till it could flutter forth
over the wild, restless sea?"
She ceased and then, shaking her head,
added, " But these are not adventures which
could interest a stranger; and I cannot tell
how I have been induced to gossip about it."
She would have moved on, but I seized her
hand, whilst I inquired, '' Am I, then, such a
stranger to you?"
She gazed for a moment before her in silence,
276
TBE IMPROVISATORS.
and said, with a. pensive smile, " Yes, I, too,
have also had beautiful moments in life. And,"
added she, with her accustomed gaietj, " I will
only think on these ! Oar meeting as children
your strange dreaming about that which is
past, infected me also, and made the heart turn
to its own pictures, instead of the works of art
which surround us here!"
When we left the gallery and had returned to
herhotel,wcfound that Bernardo had been there
to pay his respects to lier. They told him that
she and the old lady had drirea out, and that I
had accompanied tbem. His displeasure at the
THB IMPROVISATORE. 277
found her in her chamber, studying a new piece.
I entertained myself for a long time with the old
lady, who was more deaf than I had imagined,
and who seemed right thankful that I would
talk with her. It had occurred to me that she
had seemed kindly disposed to me since my first
improvisation ; and from that I had imagined
that she had heard it.
'^ And so I have done," she assured me ;
** from the expression of your countenance,
and from some few words which reached me I
understood the whole. And it was beautiful ! It
is in this way that I understand all Annunciata's
recitative, and tliat alone by the expression;
my eye has become acuter as my ear has be-
come duller."
She questioned me about Bernardo, who had
called yesterday when we were out, and lamented
that he was not with us. She expressed an
extraordinary good-will towards him, and great
interest. '^ Yes," said she, as I assented to it,
'* he has a noble character! I know one trait
of him. May the God of the Jew and the
Christian defend him for it ! "
By degrees she became more eloquent. Her
affection for Annunciata was touching and
strong. Thus much became clear to me out of
the many broken and half-darkly expressed
278 THE IlfPItOVISATORB.
communications wliich sbe mule. AnnnnnaU
v-as born in Spain, of Spanish parents. In her
cnrly childhood she came to Rome ; and when
she became there suddenly fatherless and mo-
therless, the old Hanoch, who, in his youth,
had been in her native land, and had known
her parents, was the only one who befriended
her. Afterwards, whilst yet a child, she was
sent back to her native country, to a lady who
cultivated her voice and her dramatic talent.
A men of great influence had Ulen in lov
with the beautiful girl ; but her coldnesa to-
wards hitu had awoke in him bitterness, and a
Cft
THE IMPROVISATORS. 279
'Wng^ indeed, but the praises of his boldness
*^cl cf his noble conduct. Shortly after this
^^y heard that her persecutor was dead. She
fl^w forth, therefore, inspired by her sacred art,
**^1 enraptured the people by it and her beauty*
* fae old lady accompanied her to Naples, saw
^^ gather her first laurels, and had not yet
'^ft her.
Yes," continued the eloquent old lady,
^he is also an angel of God ! Pious is she in
^^^ faith, as a woman ought to be ; and under-
^^^Hding has she as much as one could wish for
^^e l)8t heart."
I left the house just as the joy-firing com-
*^^Xiced. In all the streets, in the squares,
^^Ud balconies and windows, people stood with
^l^^ll cannons and pistols, which was a sign
Lent was now at an end. The dark cur-
s with which, for five long weeks, the pic-
is in churches and chapels had been covered,
*^*1 off at the same moment. All was Easter
SJ^finess. The time of sorrow was over ; to-
^^^irrow was Easter, the day of joy, and of two-
*^l^joy for me; for I was invited to accompany
A-^^uunciata to the church festival and the illu-
^''^^i^iation of the dome.
Ihe bells of Easter rang the cardinals rolled
*^^oad in their gay carriages, loaded with ser-
280 Tl[i: IMPIiOVlSATORE.
vants behind tie equipages of rich foreigners
the crowd of foot-pasEengers, filled the whole
narrow streets. From the CaUe of St. Angelo
waved the great flag on which were the papal
arnis and the Madonna's holy image. In the
H]u!Lre of St. Peter's there was masic, and Tonnd
about garlands of roses, and woodcuts, repre-
senting the Pope distributiDg hb blesung, were
to he purcliased. The fountains threw up thdr
gigantic coluuins of water, and all around by
the colonnades -were laget and benches, which
alreadv, like the square itself, were almost
filled.'
Anon, and almost as great a throng proceeded
from the church, where processions and sing-
ing, exhihilion-s of holy relics, fri^tuents of food.
naik, kc, had refreshed man; a pious mind.
The immense stjuare seemed a sea of baman
being? ; head moved itself to head ; the line of
carriages drew itself closer together; peasants
j lip (lie (ledestak of the saints.
niouicut lived
THE IMPROVISATORS. 281
loo^ Staves; priests preceded him swinging the
^^ssels of incense, and cardinals followed after,
^^^ging hymns.
As soon as the procession had issued from
, portal, all the choirs of music received him
^Hh triumph. They bore him up the lofty
^^^ps to the gallery, upon whose balcony he
^on shewed himself, surrounded by cardinals.
^^ery one dropped on their knees long lines
^^ soldiers the aged person like the child
^e Protestant stranger alone stood erect, and
^oald not bow himself for the blessing of an
^Id man. Annunciata half kneeled in the car-
^ge, and looked up to the holy father with
^^nl-full eyes. A deep silence reigned around^
^^d the blessing, like invisible tongues of fire,
as wafted over the heads of us all.
Next fluttered down from the Papal balcony
"^0 different papers ; the one containing a for-
iveness of all sins, the other a curse against
^11 the enemies of the church. And the people
Struck about them to obtain even the smallest
^crap of them.
Again rang the bells of all the churches;
nusic mingled itself in the jubilant sound. I
^as as happy as Annunciata. At the moment
when our carriage was set in motion, Bernardo
282 THB IHPROTIBATOBE.
rode close up to ns. He wlated both tbe ladiei,
but a|iearel not to see me.
" How pale he was!" said AoDunciatat " U
he ill?"
" I fancy not," I replied; but I knew
Ter}" well what had chased the blood from hit
cheeks.
This matured my detennination. I felt how
deeply 1 loved Annnnciatm ; that I could gire
up every thing for her if ahe yielded me her
love. I resolved to follow her. I doubted not
of my dramatic talent; and my aioging I
knew the effect which my singing had pro
TH IBIPROVISATORE. 183
^c vulture of Prometheus, rent my heart with
1^ sharp beak ; yet, nevertheless, I dreamed of
^^^^uipanyiiig her for ever, and of winning at
"^f side honour and joy. As singer, as impro-
^tore, I should now begin the drama of my
life.
After the Ave Maria I went with Annunciata
^^ the old lady in their carriage to see the
Rumination of the Dome. The whole of the
church of St. Peter's, with its lofty cupola, the
^o lesser ones by its side, and the whole
%ade, were adorned with transparencies and
P^per lanterns; these were so placed in the
^chitecture that the whole immense building
^^Ood with a fiery outline amid the blue air.
**^ throng in the neighbourhood of the church
^^^med greater than in the forenoon ; we could
^^^^rcely move at a foot's pace. We first saw
^om the bridge of St. Angelo the whole illu-
'^^nated giant structure, which was reflected in
^^^ yellow Tiber, where boat-loads of rejoicing
I^^ople were charmed with the whole picture.
When we reached the square of St. Peter's,
^We all was music, the ringing of bells and
^^'oicing, the signal was just given for the
^^Qging of the illumination. Many hundreds
^fmen were dispersed over the roof and dome
284 THE IHPROTIBATOBB.
of the church where, at one and the at
moment, they shoved forwards great iron p
with burning pitchgaHands ; it was as if ei
lantern burst forth into flame ; the w1
structure became a blazing temple of C
which shone over Rome, like the star over
cradle in Betlilehem.* The triumph of
people increased every moment, and Ant
ciata was overcome by the view of the who!
" Yet it is horrible!" she exclaimed. " C
think of the unhappy man who mnst fastei
and kindle the topmost light on the cross u
the great cupola. The very thought makes
THE IMPROVISATORS. 285
cc
But it is done for the glorifying of God,"
' i^eplied ; * and how often do we not risk it
for TOuch less ? "
The carriages rushed past us ; most of them
^^ove to Monte Pincio, in order to see from
^^^t distance the illuminated church, and the
^liole city which swam in its glory.
** Yet it is/' said I, "a beautiful idea, that
^ the light over the city beams from the
^hiUrch. Perhaps Correggio drew from this
^e idea for his immortal night."
* Pardon me," she said; ** do you not re-
''^einber that the picture was completed before
Ae church? Certainly he derived the idea
from his own heart; and it seems to me also
^^ more beautiful. But we must see the
^ht)le show from a more distant point. Shall
'^^ drive up to Monte Maria, where the throng
^* ^ot so great, or to Monte Pincio? We are
^^o^e by the gate."
AVe rolled along behind the colonnade, and
^^Te soon in the open country. The carriage
*^w up at the little inn on the hill. The
^^^)ola looked glorious from this point; it
^^^med as if built of burning suns. The fa9ade,
^^ is true, was not to be seen, but this only
'^^ded to the eflTect ; the splendour which dif-
^^8ed itself through the illumined air caused it
286 TBB IHPEOVISATOSB.
to appear as if tbe cupola, burniDg with atai
:w&m in a sea of light. Tbe music and t
ringing of bells reached us, but alt around
reigned a twofold night, and the stare etc
only like white points high in the bine air, m
they bad dimned their shine above the spleni
Easter fire of Rome.
I dismounted from tbe carriage, and vi
into the little inn to fetch them some refre
ment. As I was returning through the nan-
passage where the lamp burned before the imi
of tbe Virgin, Bernardo stood before me, p
as when, in the Jesuit school, he receired i
THE IMPROVISATORE. 287
Xje offered me a pistol. ^'Comey fight with
, or I shall become your murderer!" and, so
^ying, he drew me forth with him. I took
"^^e pistol which he had offered to defend my-
^^ffipom him.
** She loves you/* whispered he ; " and, in
your vanity, you will parade it before all the
Roman people, before me, whom you have
deceived with false, hypocritical speeches, al
^oagh I never gave you cause to do so."
*' You are ill, Bernardo,'* I exclaimed ; '^yoa
^J^ mid ; do not come too near me."
He threw himself upon me. I thrust him
l^cusk. At that moment I heard a report; mj
'^^nd trembled ; all was in smoke around me^
^t a strangely deep sigh, a shriek it could not
^ called, reached my ear, my heart! Mj
Piitol had gone off; Bernardo lay before me in
^s blood.
I stood there like a sleep-walker, and held
^ pistol grasped in my hand. It was not till
^ perceived the voices of the people of the house
^^Qnd me, and heard Annunciata exclaim,
^esQs Maria!" and saw her and the old lady
^^&re me, that I was conscious of the whole
^^^fcrtune.
*' Bernardo ! " I cried in despair, and would
THE IHPB0VI8AT0HB.
}iave flung myself on his body ; bnt Aannnda ' ,
lay on her knees bende him, eudearooring
stanch the hlood.
I can see even now her pale counteunc^^
and the stead&st look which she riTeted upt^^
me. I was as if rooted to the spot where
stood.
"Save yourself 1 save yourself!" cried tl**
old lady, taking hold of me by the arm.
"I am ianocent!" I ezclainied, overcome
by anguish, " Jeeus Maria! I am innocent!
He would baye killed me; he gaTe me the
pistol, which went off by accident!" aod thit
which I perhaps otherwise should not have
dared to say aloud I revealed in my despair,
THE IMPROVISATORB.
289
She bowed her head down to the dead ; I
*^^^ird her weeping, and saw her press her lips
^^ ^Jemardo's brow.
** The gens cTarmes /" cri|d^6ome one just
^y xne. " Fly, fly!" and, V if by invisible
^^ds, I was torn out of the house.
VOL. !
CHAPTER XIV.
THE PEASAJfXa OP ROCCA DEI. PAPA. TH^*
robbers' cave. THE PARCiG OP MT UFB.
" She loves Bernardo I" rung in my heart : it
was the arrow of death which poisoned my
whole blood, which drove me onward,
THE IMPROVISATOBE. 291
9 which could have conreyed me OTr.
^i^ unexpected impediment was as the stab
^ knife, which, for a moment, eat in sunder
^^ ^wonn that gnawed at my heart; but it
^^^dily grew together again, and I fdt that
^y "Hifhole misfortune was twofold.
^^ ot many paces firom me I [perceived the
^^^^s of a tomb, larger in circumference, but
^^T^e desdate, than that in which I had lived
^ 9i child with the old Domenica. Three
^^^s were tied to one of the overturned
^^^eks of stone, and were jfeeding from the
^^^^luUes of hay which were festened to their
^cks.
A wide opening led, by a few deep steps, into
the vault of the tomb, within which a fire was
laming. Two strong-built peasants, wrapped in
tkeir sheep*ekin cloaks, with the wool outwards,
and in lai^ boots and pointed hats, in which
.was fastened a picture of the Virgin, stretched
themselves before the fire, and smoked with
their short pipes. A shorter figure, wrapped
in a large grey doak, and with a broad,
slouching hat, leaned against the wall, while
he drank fi^m a flask of wine to a farewell
and a happy meeting. Scarcely had I con-
templated the whole group^ before I was myself '
discovered. They snatched up their weapons
292 THS IHPROVISATORB.
which la^ beside tliem, aa if they Kp'
a surpme, and stepped hastily towar
" What do you seek for here ?" th
"A boat to take me across the
replied.
" Yon may look for that a long ti
returned. " Here is neither bridge
unless folks bring them with them."
" Bat," began one of them, wbil
veyed iae from top to toe, " you a
long way out of the highroad, signo
is not safe out o' nights. Cwsar's '
2 long roots, although the I
, till he b
THE 1MPR0VI8AT0RE. 293
him his few scudi us he would not so
Ly manage. Do you see?" said the fellow
^^^ ^3Qe ; " give us your money to keep, and so it
^'^^^l be quite safe."
* * All that I have you can take/' replied I,
.ry of life, and obtuse from suffering;
'wt no great sum will you get."
t was evident to me in what company I now
nd myself. I quickly felt in my pocket, in
Ich I knew there to be two scudi ; but, to
astonishment, found there a purse. I drew
^^ ^^rth : it was of woman's work ; I had seen
"^^ V^efore, in the hands of the old lady at An-
^vixjciata's: she must have thrust it into my
If^^^^iet, at the last moment, that I might have
P^re money for my unhappy flight. They
^^ etched all three at the full purse ; and I shook
V^^ its contents upon the flat stone before the
Cc
Crold and silver !" cried they, as they saw
^ \rhite louis-d'or shining among the pias-
.^^* " It would have been a sin if the beau-
^l souls had fallen into robbers' hands."
"Kill me now," said I, "if such be your
^^^tion; so there may be an end of my
sTings."
^o
Madonna mia!" exclaimed the first, " what
you take us for? We are honest peasants
294 THE IMPROVISATORB.
from Rocca del Papa. We kill no Cfamtiaa
brother. Drink a glass of wine with us, aod
tell us what compels yoa to this joutTtey. "
"That remains my secret," sakl I, and
ea2;erly took the wine which they offered to
me ; for my lips burned for a refreshing
draught.
Tiiey whirred to each other; and then
the man in the broad hat rose up, nodded.
iamiliarly to the others, looked jestingly into
my face, and said, " Yoa'll pass a cold night
after the warm, merry evening!" He wBned less
^irightly : that came from so much wood among
As hills!"
I turned myself from him, and, as if half to
^teoie himself, he added, '^ The girl was a Pro-
totant) a daughter of Satan ! "
In the evening Fulvia returned, and gave me
a letter which she commanded me not to read
** The mountains have their white caps on ;
it is time to fly away. Eat and drink, we have
a long journey before us, and there grow no
eakes upon the naked rocky path."
The young robber placed food on the table
in haste, of which I partook, and then Fulvia
threw a cloak over her shoulders, and hurried
me along through dark, excavated passages.
** In the letter lie thy wings," said she, ** not
a soldier on the barrier shall ruffle a feather of
thine^ my young eagle ! The wishing-rod also
312 THE IMFBOT18AT0BE.
lies be!de it, which will afford thee gold
silver till thou haet fetched up thy own
sures."
She DOW divided, with her naked, thin
the thick ivy, which hung like a curtain b
the entrance to the cavern : it waa dark i
without, and a thick mist enwrapt the n
tains. I held fast hy her dress, and sea
could keep up with her quick steps sloii:
untrodden path in the dark : like a spin
went forward; bashes and hedges wen
behind us on either hand.
Our march had continued for some
TH IMPROYISATORE. 31
wann^d^ Further back was an opening in the
^^^S which led to a smaller hut, which was
attached to the greater, just as one sees a small
omoix grow to the mother-bulb; within this
'^y ^ woman sleeping, with several children.
An ass poked forth his head from above them
^"d looked on us. An old man, almost naked,
^th a ragged pair of drawers on made of
S^t-skin, came towards us ; he kissed Fulvia's
nands, and, without a word being exchanged,
"^^ threw his woollen skin over his naked shoul-
"61^, drew forth the ass, and made a sign for
^e to mount.
** The horse of fortune will gallop better
^^n the ass of the Campagna,'* said Fulvia.
The peasant led the ass and me out of the
*|^t^. My heart was deeply moved with gra-
^'^Ude to the singular old woman, and I bent
"^M^n to kiss her hand; but she shook her
^^d, and then, stroking the hair back from my
*^**head, I felt her cold kiss, saw her once
^Ore motioning with her hand, and the twigs
*^d hedges hid us from each other. The
f^^aant struck the ass, and then ran on beside
^^ up the path : I spoke to him; he uttered
low sound, and gave me, by a sign, to under-
^^nd that he was dumb. My curiosity to read
^e letter which Fulvia had given me let me
VOL. I, T
i
314
TBS IMPROTI8ATOKB.
have no rest ; I therefore drew it oot
opened it. It consisted of various papers,
the darkness forbade me to read a single woi
howevtT much I strained my eyes.
When ihe day dawned, we were apoD H
ridges of the mountains, where alone was to
seen nukoci granite, with a few creeping plai
and tite grey-green fragrant artemisia. "U
heavens were quite clear, scattered over \^
shining stars ; a sea-like clond world lay be7
us, it wus the Marshes which stretched th^J
selves out from the mountains of AlbsO
Vt-lfitri and Terracina, hounded
nean Sea. The loW
TIIK IMPROVISATOKE. 315
ouian police, and signed by the Neapolitan
mbassador an order on the house of Fal-
^sonet, in Naples, for five hundred scudi, and a
^mall note containing the words, '^ Bernardo's
life is out of danger ; but do not return to Rome
^r some months."
Fulvia said justly that here were my wings
mnd wishing-rod. I was free, a sigh of grati-
tude arose from my heart.
We soon reached a more trodden path, where
some shepherds were sitting at their breakfasts.
My guide stopped here ; they seemed to know
him, and he made them understand, by signs
with his fingers, that they should invite us to
partake of their meal, which consisted of bread
and buffalo-cheese, to which they drank asses'
Qiilk. I enjoyed some mouthfuls, and felt
iUyself strengthened thereby.
My guide now shewed me a path, and the
others explained to me that it led down the
fountains along the Marshes to Terracina,
^hich I could reach before evening. I must
^f^ntinually keep this path to the left of the
^^ountains, which would, in a few hours, bring*
^^e to a canal, which went from the mountains
^^ the great highroad, the boundary trees of
^^hich I should see as soon as the mist cleared
^way. By following the canal, I should come
316 THK IHPROTIBATOBB-
oiit upon the highroad, just beside a rained
convent, where now stood an inn, called torre
di tre ponti.
Gladly would I have bestowed upon my
guide n little gift ; but I had nothing. It then
occurred to me that I still had, however, the
two scudi, which were in my pocket when I
left Rome ; I had only given up the purse with
the money which I had received as needful in
my flight. Two scudi were thus, for the moment,
all my ready money; the one I would give to
my guide, the other I must keep for my own
t I reached Naples, where I could only
THE IMPROVISATORE
OR,
LIFE IN ITALY.
VOL. n.
THE
IMPR0YI8AT0RB :
OR,
LIFE IN ITALY
FROM THE DANISH
OF
HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.
TRANSLATED BY
MARY HO WITT.
IN TWO VOLUMEti.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
RICHARD BEIfTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1845.
TBB
IMPROVISATORE.
CHAPTER I.
THE PONTINE MAR8HBS TERRACINA AN OLD
ACQUAINTANCE FRA DIAVOLO's NATIVE CITY
THE ORANGE-GARDEN AT MOLO DI GAETA
THE NEAPOLITAN SIGNORA NAPLES.
Many people imagine that the Pontine
Marshes are only a dreary extent of stagnant,
slimy water, a melancholy road to travel over :
on the contrary, the marshes have more re-
semblance to the rich plains of Lombardy ; yes,
they are like them, rich to abundance ; grass
and herbage grow here with a succulence and
a luxuriance which the north of Italy cannot
exhibit.
VOL. II. B
.^-,^
ccft"-
hai^^i*:^
, , aS '"",,1, *e "T. caf '"e"
\)TftO'
,cW
o!*"
gun.
**
Vwel
mai
taiw-
''*l''^**i
* , iiiw' , v.\i*.*";,v, (too
!\'Ca
lotlS
taiO
tlc
:a-ift='.
5tS
vo*s-
, *e
a ?'
,.,( le"' "j
W" . VslaOT'
rlrce^ ^loug'
lonwfl;
sea
Ijttt
THE IMPROVISATORE.
^^^tejj. y^2LS (lashed around to a great height ;
. *^^^x* "bold attitudes, their unconstrained leap-
"^S ^LTid gambolling, might have been a study
^^ ^u animal-painter. To the left I saw a
^^^ monstrous column of smoke, which as-
^^ded from the great fire which the shepherds
^^^ kindled to purify the air around their huts.
^^^t a peasant, whose pale, yellow, sickly ex-
^^or contradicted the vigorous fertility which
^^ marshes presented. Like a dead man
^"i8en from the grave, he rode upon his black
*^oi-8e, and held a sort of lance in his hand
^^th which he drove together the buffidoes
^ich went into the swampy mire, where some
^* them lay themselves down, and stretched
^^th only their dark ugly heads with their
^^lioious eyes.
*lie solitary post-houses, of three or four
^^es high, which were erected close by the
^^^*side, shewed also, at the first glance, the
Prisonous effluvia which steamed up from the
^'^shes. The lime-washed walls were entirely
-P^^^red with an unctuous, grey-green mould.
^^) dings, like human beings, bore here the
^^p of corruption which shewed itself in
^Hge contrast with the rich luxuriance around,
^^l^ the fresh verdure, and the warm sunshine.
^y sickly soul presented to me here in nature
4 THE IHPROVISATOEB.
:in image of the false happiness of life
people almost always see the world tl
the spectacles of feeling, and it appean
or rose-coloured according to the hue
glass through which they look.
About an hour hefore the Ave Maria
the marshes behind me ; the mountains
their yellow masses of rock, approached
and nearer, and close before me stood
cina in the fertile, Hesperian landscape,
lofty palm-trees, with their fruit, grew i
from the road. The vast orchards,
1 JIE IMI'IloVIS VT.iRE.
pictiare, and, quietly dreaming, I entered Terra-
^^^ci . Before me lay the sea, which I now be-
helcl for the first time the wonderfully beau-
^Jful Mediterranean. It was heaven itself in
^'^^ purest ultra-marine, which, like an im-
''^^^^se plain, was spread out before me. Far
^*^t ^t sea I saw islands, like floating clouds of
tao most beautiful lilac colour, and perceived
^ ^^\avius where the dark column of smoke be-
^^^^^^^ blue in the far horizon. The surface of
J^^ sea seemed perfectly still, yet the lofly
***ows, as blue and clear as the ether itself,
^^^Ice against the shore on which I stood, and
^^^:aded like thunder among the mountains.
^Vly eye was riveted like my foot ; my whole
^^1 breathed rapture. It seemed as if that
, *^ich was physical within me, heart and
*^Cid, became spirit, and Infused itself into it
*^^t; it might float forth between these two,
^^ infinite sea and the heaven above it. Tears
^^amed down my cheeks, and I was com-
*^^*Xed to weep like a child.
^ ^ot far from the place where I stood was a
^**Se white building, against the foundations
^hich the waves broke. Its lowest story,
*^ich lay to the street, consisted of an open
^l^nnade, within which stood the carriages of
'"^vellers. It was the hotel ofTerracina, the
6 THE 1MPB0V18AT0R&.
larn^e^t and tlie liaudsoniest upon tlie wlio*
way between Rome and Naples. ^
The cracking of whips re-echoed fi'om tl^^^ ^
wall of rocks; a carriage with four hors^^^ ^
rolled up to tlie hotel. Armed serrstits "^^^^^
OH the seat at the back of the carriage ; a pal&^J^^l
thill geiitiemaii, wrapped in a large bri^t:^^^^_^
coloured (Ircssin^-gown, stretched himself with ^"^"^
in it. The postilion dismounted and crackec^ ^
iiis long whip several times, whilst fresh hones ^^^
were put to. The stranger wished to proceed -^^^
but as he dcsii-ed to have an escort over tha
i where Fra Diavolo and Ceaari bac
^ Naples to ascend Vesuvius, and then by the
team-vessel to Marseilles, to gain a knowledge
so of the south of France, which he hoped to
o in a still shorter time. At length eight well-
^rined horsemen arrived, the postilion cracked
is whip, and the carriage and the out-riders
ranished through the gate between the tall yel-
ow rocks.
*^ With all his escort and all his weapons,
e is, however, not so safe as my strangers,'^
a little, square-built fellow, who played
^^nth his whip. ^'The English must be very
fond of travelling ; they always go at a gallop ;
tiiey are queer birds SwiUa Philomena di
Jfapoli!"
'Have you many travellers in your car-
riage?" inquired I.
** A heart in every corner," replied he ;
'^ you see, that makes a good four : but in the
cabriolet there is only one. If the Signore
wishes to see Naples, that he can the day after
to-morrow, while the sun still shines on Sant
Elmo."
We soon agreed, and I was thus relieved
from the embarrassment in which my entire
want of money had placed me.^
* When people travel with vetturiniy they pay nothing
' You will perhaps wish to have earnes "
money, sigiiore?" asked the vetturino, an
\in\\ out a five-paolo piece between his finger^*'^
" Reserve the place for me, with board, ani^
a good bed," replied I. *' Do we set off in ih^ -*
iiioniiiig?"
" Ye^, if it please Saint Antonio and my.
horses," said he, *' we shall set off at thre^^
o'clock. We shall have twice to go to th(^
Pass-Bureau, and three times to be written ii*^
tlie papers ; to-morrow is our hardest day."
Witli these words he lifted his cap, and, nod'
ilinff, left me.
They shewed me to a chamber wliich lookettf
out 10 the sea, where the fresh wind blew, anttf
the billows heaved themselves, presenting a*-
]icture very dissimilar to the Campa^a, aniV
yet its vast extent led my thoughts to myhom?
there, and the old Domenica. It troubled me
now that I had not visited her more indns-
tiiouslv ; she loved me with her entire heart.
THE IMPROVISATORE.
^ ^^ion for me, but it was of a peculiar kind.
^^cfits bound us together, and where these
-^^*d not be mutual, there must always remain^
*^en giver and receiver, a gulf, which years
^ days indeed might cover with the climbing-
**^*nts of devotion, but never could fill up. I
J- ^''ght upon Bernardo and Annunciata; my
^ tasted salt drops which came from my
t^^^ 5 or, perhaps, from the sea below me, for
^ billows actually dashed high upon the
'^^^xt morning, before day, I rolled with the
. ^*^iiio and his strangers away from Terra-
, ^* We drew up at the frontiers just at
jj^^. 4^11 dismounted from the carriage,
, ^^^ our passports were inspected. I now for
. ^ first time saw my companions properly.
, ^^^Oug these was a man of about thirty, rather
^^d, and with blue eyes, who excited my
^ ^^^tion ; I must have seen him before, but
,^^ ^re I could not remember, the few words
f ^^Kth I heard him speak betrayed hini to be a
^^5gner.
^^e were detained a very long time by the
r ^s^ports, because most of them were in foreign
^guages, which the soldiers did not under-
/^"^d. In the meantime the stranger, of whom
^*ve spoken, took out a book of blank paper,
B 2
1.1 THE l!PR0V1^.^101!!:.
a:\d slvctched the place where we stood; t^^*
twi) liigli towers by the gate, through wliic::^
tiie roiid passed, tlie picturesque caves just b ^ _
and, in the background, the little town upc:=
the luoiiiitaiii.
I stepped nearer to him, and be turned ic^^
attt'ntioii to the beautiful grouping of the goa.^*
wiiich stood in the lai^est cave. At the saic=
moment they .sprang out ; a great bundle
faggots, which had lain in one of the less^^
openings of the cave, and which served as doC^
to the descent, was witlidi-awu, and the goa '
skipped out two and two, like the anima -^
which went out of Noah's ark. A very litt^K
peasant lad brought up the rear; his littV-
pcintu-d hat, round which a piece of twine w--
tied, tlie torn stockings, and sandals, to wfaicl'
the short, brown cloak, which he had thrown
around him, gave him a picturesque appear-
ance. The goats tripped up above the care
among the low bushes, whilst the boy, seating
THE IMPROYISATORE. 11
thoiaght I, anxiously, and the blood mounted to
^^y cheeks. The stranger scolded because of
^tk^ ignorance of the soldiers who could not
'^^d 3 and we followed the vetturino up into one
^* ^be towers, where we found five or six men
^^^stretched over the table, on which our
P^^sports lay spread out.
* * Who is called Frederick ? " inquired one of
^^ -most important-looking of the men at the
* * That is I," replied the stranger, " my name
^^^ederick, in Italian Federigo."
Thus, then, Federigo the Sixth."
Ob, no! that is my king's name which
^^"^ds at the top of my passport."
* * Indeed ! " said the man, and slowly read
-^ ^^^^d, " * Frederic Six, par la grace de Diea
^. ^^i de Danemarc, des Vandales, des Gothes,
^^ ^**' But what is that?" exclaimed the man ;
you a Vandal ? they are actually a bar-
ms people?"
Yes," replied the stranger, laughing ; " I
a barbarian who am come to Italy to be
.^^^^ised. My name stands below, it is Frede-
like my king's, Frederick, or Federigo."
Is he an Englishman?" asked one of the
liters.
^Oh, no!" replied another^ '^ thou con**
12 THE IMPSOVISATORE.
roundest all nations together ; thoa cantt nmt ^^
read tliat he is oot of the ntntb; he n
Russian."
Federigo DenniBrk the mme truck in^^^^=
soul like a flasli of lightning. It WMi indeeJ^^^^
the friend of my childhood; toj mothaf^K
lodger, him with whom I hid been into Ihv -*
catacombs, who had given me hie 1
silver watch, and drawn lordy {netaree fir n
The passport was correct, and the bsrr
soldier found it doubly bo, when a paolo
put into his liand that he might not any ^
detain us.
As soon as we were oat again I made n
known to him; it was tetnally he whom
supposed our Danish Federigo, who had Ht ^ ^
with my mother. He exprencd the UIUM
lively joy at again meeting with me, Called ^^
still his little Antonio. There were a thonaanv
THE IMPROVISATORE. 13
^*^itliout touching upon my late adventures,
^nded by shortly saying, " I now go (to
Na^ples."
He remembered very well the promise which
^^ had made, the last time we saw each other
^^ the Campagna, to take me with him for one
"^y to Rome ; but shortly after that he received
^ *^tter from his native country, which obliged
^inx to take the long journey home, so that he
^^tilci not see me again. His love for Italy,
"^'^ever, in his native land, became only
^^**oiiger every year, and at length drove him
inef^ again.
* * And now, for the first time, I enjoy every
^"^^g properly," said he; "drink in great
^^vights of the pure air, and visit again every
^l^^t. where I was before. Here my heart's
*^^^Xrland beckons me ; here is colourhig ; here
*^ ^rm. Italy is a cornucopia of blessing!*'
inie and the way flew on so rapidly in
^rigo's society, that I marked not our long
'^ntion in the Pass-Bureau at Fondi. He
^Hew perfectly how to seize upon the poetically
^^Utifiil in every thing ; he became doubly
^^* and interesting to me, and was the best
^6^1 of consolation for my afflicted heart.
^ Xhere lies my dirty Itri!" exclaimed he,
^ pointed to the city before us. " You
14 THE IHPR0VI6AT0BE.
would liarclly credit it, Antonio, but in *"
north, where all the streets are eo cleaD, and ^
regular, and so precise, I hare longed foV
dirtj' Italian town, wliere there is somethi**^
characteristic, something just for a paint-^^"*'
These narrow, dirty streets, these grey, gric^**?
stone lialconies, full of stockings and skir''^*
windows without regularity, one up, one doi^" *^'
some great, some small, here steps four or & '^'^
ells wide leading up to a door, where tt**
mother sits with her hand spindle : and th^*"*
a lemon-tree, with great yellow fruit, haDgiV^
over tlie wall.
X Joe-i jnakt' a tiicturc ! But 1
THE IMPROVISATORE.
15
18 there a swarm of dirty children and
md all reached out their hands to beg;
m laughed^ and the children screamed
e faces at us. One did not dare to
head out of the carriage, lest it should
hed between it and the projecting
rom which the stone balconies in some
ing out so far above us that it seemed
drove through an archway. I saw
i)ls on either hand, for the smoke
way through the open doors up the
Us.
a glorious city ! " said Federigo, and
lis hands.
:bber city it is," said the vetturinoj
\ had passed through it; the police
d one half of the people to flit to quite
ity behind the mountains, and brought
inhabitants, but that helped nothing.
to weed that is 'planted here. But
r folks must live."
rhole neighbourhood here, upon the
;hroad between Rome and Naples,
3 robbery. There are places of deep
lent on every hand, in the thick olive-
1 the mountain-caves, in the walls of
3ps, and many other ruins.
go directed my attention to an isolated
16 THE IMPROVISATOttE.
colosiil wall ovei^rown with honeysuckle **
climbing plants. It was Cicero's grave ! it v*'**
here that the d^ger of the assassin struck tb*
fugitive, here the Ups of eloquence became di**"
" The vettnrino will drive us to Cicero'fl vil*-*
in Mola(liGaeta,"said Federigo, "itisthel*^'
hott'l, and has a prospect which rivals thaft ^
Naples."
The foiin of the hills was most beautiful, t*^**
vegetation most luxuriant ; presently we rol)^^
along an alley of tall laurels, and saw befo'^
lis the hotel which Federigo had mentione*^'
The liea'l-waiter stood ready with his napki*^'
'{ III: iMrH(.)Vi^AiUv'i:.
^^F^l^orted lier pretty cheek upon her round
^^tle hand, and began to study the list of
-^t^bles. ** JBrodettOy cipollette^ faciolL You
'^tiow that I cannot bear soup, else I should
^^- a figure like Castello dell' Ovo. A little
^^^iynelle doratey and some fennel, is enough
^** me; we must really dine again in Santa
'^B^tlia. Ah, now I breathe more freely," con-
^'^vied she, untying the strings of her cap,
^ow I feel my Neapolitan air blowing
^^tc Napoli!'^ exclaimed she, hastily opening
^**^ door of the balcony, which looked on the
^^, and spreading out her arms, she drank in
S^^at draughts of the fresh air.
** Can we already see Naples ?" inquired I.
' Not yet," replied Federigo ; " but Hes-
I^ria, Armida's enchanted garden."
We went out into the balcony, which was
Wit of stone, and looked out over the garden.
What magnificence! richer than fancy can
create to itself! Below us was a wood of
iemon and orange-trees which were overladen
with fruit ; the branches bent themselves down
to the ground with their golden load ; cypresses
gigantically tall as the poplars of the North of
Italy, formed the boundary of the garden;
ihey seemed doubly dark against the clear,
heaven-blue sea which stretched itself behind
18 THE IMPROVISATORS. I
them, and dashed its waves above the remw'**
of the batbs and temples of antiquity, outi*
the low wall of the garden. Ships andbot*
with great white sails, floated into the peaceful
liarbour, around which Gaeta,* with its loPJ'
buildings, stretches itself, A little mounts
elevates itself above the city, and this *
crowned with a ruin.
My eye was dazzled with the great beu*f
of the scene.
*' Do yoti see Vesuvius I How it smokes-
said Federigo, and pointed to the left, wbef^
the rocky coast elevated itself, like light doaa^'
' -
:0\ A ;)-!.. ]')
before me in the distant North. In my re-
membrance blew this air which I now inspire
vith every breath I draw. I thought of thy
olive-groves when I saw our willows; I dreamed
of the abundance of the oranges when I saw
"^^ golden apples in the peasants* gardens
o^ide the fragrant clover-field ; but the green
''^ters of the Baltic never become blue like
^^ beautiful Mediterranean; the heavens of
"* North never become so high, so rich in
**^*our, as the warm, glorious south. Its glad-
ness was inspiration^ its speech became poetry.
** What longings I had in my home?" said
^l '' they are happier who have never seea
*^^itidise, than they, who having seen it, are
"rtven forth, never to return. My home is
^*^tifal ; Denmark is a flowery garden, which
^^^ measure itself with any thing on the other
^^ the Alps ; it has beech-woods and the sea.
^t what is earthly beauty compared with hea-
-^ly ? Italy is the land of imagination and
j^Hu ty ; doubly happy are they who salute it
^'^ the second time ! "
A^d he kissed, as I had done, the golden
. ^'^^iges ; tears ran down his cheeks, and throw-
^ himself on my neck, his lips burned on
. ^ forehead. With this my heart opened
^If to him entirely ; he was not indeed a
20 THE IMPROVISATOBB.
Stranger to me, lie was the friend of my chi'*'
liood. I related to him my life's last great
adventure, and felt my heart lighter by the
communication, by speaking Annanciata^
name aloud ; by telling of my suffering an"
my misfortune, and Federigo lietened to m*
w itii tlie sympathy of an honest friend. I t(i*
htm of my tiiglit, of my adventure' in the rob-
bers' cave; of Fulvta, and what I knew o*
Bernardo's recovery. He offered rae his liiaJ-
with the truest friendliness, and looked, will*-
his light blue eyes, sympathisingly into m^
soul.
nil: IMI'l^O'' I-A vr^UE. -J
private affair. You have aflected me deeply.
^oii shall have no cause to repent that I have
lecoine privy to it ; my tongue is as dumb as
the dead."
Somewhat embarrassed I bowed before the
strange Signora, who had thus become ac-
iuiuiited with my heart's history. At length
F^erigo sought to console me by saying that
nobody knew to what it might lead.
** I am/' said he, "a real Turk in my reli-
*^ce on fate; besides, after all, there are no
state secrets in the whole of it ; every heart
''^^f in its archives, such painful memoirs.
'^erhaps it was her own youth's history which
*^^ heard in yours ; I can believe it, for people
J^^^e seldom tears for other's troubles, except-
'^S when they resemble their own. We are
^ Egotists, even in our greatest sufferings and
'^^^ieties."
We were soon again in the carriage, rolling
^ our way. The whole country round us
^^5 of a luxuriant character ; the broad-leaved
^Oe grew close by the road to the height of
^ ^an, and was used as a fence. The large
^^ping-willow seemed to kiss, with its de-
pending, ever-moving branches, its own shadow
^pon the ground.
Towards sunset we crossed the river Garig-
22 TQS IMPROVTSATOBE.
liano, where formerly stood the old Minton; I
it was the yellow Liris, which I saw overgrown '
with leeda, as when Marius concealed hinad'
liere Iroin the cruel Sylla. But we were J*
a long way from Santa Agatha.
The darkness descended, and the Sijpiof^
l)ecaiiie extremely uneasy on account of roWei^*
and looked out continually to see that nobod^F
cut away the luggage from hehind the carriagf ^
In vain the vetturino cracked his whip, an^^
repealed his maledetlo, for the dark night ad"^
vanced faster than he did. At length we mW^
li;hts before us. We were at Santa Agatha.
sured her that I had the greatest confidence in
her womanly spirit.
** Yet you know nothing of me," said she,
'' but you may do ; probably my husband can
^ useful to you in the great foreign city. You
^^^i^ visit me and him. You, perhaps, have no
^^uaifitance ; and a young man can so easily
^*ke an error in his choice."
I thanked her heartily for her sympathy. It
*^^ted me. One, however, meets with good
P^ple every where.
** Kaples is a dangerous city ! " said she ; but
^erigo entered, and interrupted us.
w'e were soon again seated in the carriage.
^^ glass-windows were put down ; we became
^ lietter acquainted as we approached our
^^mon goal Naples. Federigo was enrap-
^^ with the picturesque groups which we
5^^t. Women, with red cloaks turned over their
^Hds, rode past on asses, a young child at the
^fijast, or sleeping with an elder one in the
^^ket at their feet. A whole family rode upon
^^Q horse ; the wife behind the husband, and
^^ted her arm or her bead against his shoulder,
r^4 seemed to sleep ; the man had before him
^*^ little boy, who sat and played with the
^Hip. It was such a group as Pignelli has
21
THE IKPB0V18AT0RE.
given iti his beautiful scenes out of the life '
tlic people.
Tlic air was grey, it rained a little; weCOuW
licit lier sec Vesuvius nor Capri. The corn Bto
jiiicy uiid green Iq the field under the tall fro*^^*
trees and poplars, round which the vines e***
wreallicd themselves.
" Do you see," sud the Signora, " our C*t^
))ugiia is a table well spread with bread, iru ^^ '
Kiid wine ; and you will soon see our gay ci '
and our swelling sea!"
Towards evening we approached it. Tt^^^^
spk-iidid Toledo street lay before us; it w^^^
THE IMPROVISATORE. 25
sat ill the little carriage^ i*&gg6d lads stood
stood behind it, and beneath, in the shaking
net, lay quite snugly a half-naked lazzarone.
One single horse drew the whole crowd, and
yet it went at a gallop. There was a fire kin-
dled before a corner-house, before which lay
two half-naked fellows, clad only in drawers,
9ind with the vest fastened with one single but-
ton, who played at cards. Hand-organs and
bardygurdies were playing, to which women
^ere singing ; all were screaming, all running
one among another soldiers, Greeks, Turks,
English. I felt myself transported into quite
another world ; a more southern life than that
^hich I had known breathed around me. The
Signora clapped her hands at the sight of her
merry Naples. " Rome," she said, '* i^as a
grave beside her laughing city."
We turned into the Largo del Castello, one
of the largest squares in Naples, which leads
down to the sea, and the same noise and the
same crowd met us here. Around us we saw
illuminated theatres, on the outside of which
were bright pictures, which represented the
principal scenes of the pieces which were being
performed within. Aloft, on a scafibld, stormed
a Bajazzo family. The wife cried out to the
spectators; the husband blew the trumpet, and
VOL. II. c
2fi THE IHPBOVIBATORE.
till, yoiiiij^est soil beat them both with a gr&s^sa.t
ri(ling-ivhij), whilst a little horse stood upon m~ "ts
iiiikl-legs in the back-Bcene, and read out of l "'
ojteii book. A man stood, and fooght and Ba^=a^
;ii the iiiiilst of a crowd of sailors, who sat i*
a corper ; he was an improvisatore. An old ii^I'
low read aloud, out of a hook, Orlando Furio^t*:^^
as I w.is tuld ; his audience were applaud! ji ^^
him just as we passed by.
" Monte Vesuvio!" cried the Signora; and-^^
now saw, at the end of the street, where tli^^
light-house stood, Vesuviofl, lifting itself higfe
in tlic air, and the fire-red lava, like a streain
xire of the Redeemer. The monk cast flam-
r glances at the wooden theatre of the puppets,
c::h drew the attention of the people awaj
his speech.
Is this Lent?" I heard him say. " Is this
time consecrated to Heaven? the time in
^^^sh we should, humbled in the flesh, wander
^ ^Ku;kcloth and in ashes ? Carnival-time is it ?
"^^^**^ival always, night and day, year out and
^^ in, till you post down into the depths of
"^ll ! There you can twirl, there yoo can grin,
dance, and keep festino in the eternal pool
tonnentofhell!"
llis voice raised itself more and more ; the
^^ft Neapolitan dialect rung in my ear like
^^^ying verse, and the words melted melodi-
^^y one into another. But all the more his
^oice ascended, ascended also that of Punchi-
liello, and he leaped all the more comically,
and was all the more applauded by the people;
then the monk, in a holy rage, snatched the
cross from the hand of the man who bore it,
rushed forward with it, and, exhibiting the cru-
cified, exclaimed, ** See, here is the true Punchi-
nello ! Him shall you see, him shall you hear !
For that you shall have eyes and ears! Kyrie,
eleison !" and, impressed by the holy sign, the
^hole crowd dropped upon their kneeS; and
28 THE IMPROTISATORE.
exclaimed with one voice, " Kyrie, elei
Even the puppet-plajer let fall his ^anchi
1 stood beside our carriage, vonderfully i
by the scene.
Federigo hastened to obtain a carrii
take the Signora to her home. She ezt
her band to him, with her thanks ; then, 1
ing her arm around raj neck, I felt a
kiss upon my lips, and heard her say, *
come to Naples!" And, from the cs
which conveyed her sway, she waved
with her hand, and we ascended to the
ber in the hotel which the waiter assigned
pa:^
CHAPTER IL
AND CONSOLATION N EARER ACQUAIN-
fCE WITH THE 8IQN0RA THE LETTER
'^AVE I MISUNDERSTOOD HER?
"^^^TER Federigo was in bed, I continued
, ^^g in the open balcony, which looked into
street, with Vesuvius before me. The ex*
^^x*dinary world, in which I seemed to be as
^ dream, forbade me to sleep. By d^rees
^ '^^came more and more quiet in the street
^Ow^ me : the lights were extinguished : it
^^ already past midnight. My eye rested
^Pon the mountain, where the pillar of fire
^ised itself up from the crater, towards the
Wood-red, broad mass of cloud, which, united
to this, seemed like a mighty pine-tree of fire
and flame : the lava streams were the roots,
with which it embraced the mountain.
My soul was deeply impressed by this great
30 'iHE 1MPH0VI8ATORR.
spcctiicio llic voice of God, which spok, ^^
from tht; volcano, as froin tlie still silent nigh^^t-^
Leaven. It kjis one of those moments whic ^
occurs now and then, when, so to say, the soi ^:
stands face to face with its God. I compr^^^^**
hcudcd something of His omnipotence, wisdoa; ^^'
and goodness comprehended something ^^^^ot
Him, whose servants are the lightning and tl~^ ^^
whirlwind ; yet, without whose permission, n ^"^^
even a sparrow falls to the earth. My own li ^^*
stood clearly hefore me : I saw in the whole *
wonderfiil guiding and directing ; every mL- -*^^^'
IbrtHue even, and every sorrow, had hrougt^^*
ige for the better. The nnhapp,;^y
^v the runaway horses ^
jEemed "
'I
Thus I reviewed iii thought scene after scene
f my life, and found the highest wisdom and
ooduess in the chain of events; nor was it
Xjntil I came to that last link, that all seemed
"^o fall asunder. My acquaintance with An-
^lunciata was like a spring day, which in a
^noment had expanded every flower-bud in my
90ul. With her I could have become every
^ing : her love would have perfected the hap-
3iness of my life. Bernardo's sentiment to-
-wards her was not pure like mine : even had
lie suffered for a moment by losing her, his pain
would have been short : he would soon hare
learned to console himself; but that Annun-
data loved him annihilated all my life's hap-
piness. Here I comprehended not the wisdom
of the Almighty, and felt nothing but pain,
because of all my vanished dreams. At that
moment a cithern sounded under the balcony ;
and I saw a man, vrith a cloak thrown over
his shoulders, who touched the strings from
which trembled notes of love. Shortly after-
wards, the door of the opposite house opened
quite softly, and the man vanished behind it
a happy lover, who went to kisses and em-
braces.
I looked up to the star-bright air ^to the
brilliant dark blue sea which gleamed redly
THE IMPROVl&ATORE.
wall the reflected light of the lava and t**^
eruption.
"Glorious nature!" burst forth from *!
lieart, " Thou art my migtresB ! Thou da^J*"
ect nie to ihy heart openeat to me thy heav^**'
and thy breath kisses me on my lips a.z^
iirow ! Thee will I sing, thy beauty, thy ho?^
greatness! 1 will repeat before the people tb^^
deep melodies which thou siBgest in my soul
Let my heart bleed ; the butterfly which strng-^
gles upon the needle becomes most beautifiil:
the stream which, hurled aa a irater&ll from
the rock, scatters itself in foam, is more glori-
T^.i: f Mi'KovT-Aiorn:. ]')
^ Jetenninecl, therefore, that same night to
'^iteto them.
^Vith filial confidence, I related to them
vei*y thing which had occurred, every single
*^^umstance my love for Annunciata^ and
^^ consolation which alone I found in nature
in art; and concluded with an urgent
'er for an answer, as favourable as their
could give me ; nor before I obtained
^^^ would I take one step, or come forward in
^^tklic. Longer than a month they must not
^^ me languish.
^ly tears fell upon the letter as I wrote it ;
7^^ I felt relieved by it ; and when I had ended
^ I quickly slept more soundly and calmly
^*^^n I had done for a long time.
The following day, Federigo and I arranged
^^r affairs. He removed into a new lodging,
IQ one of the side-streets. I remained at the
Casa Tedesca, where I could see Vesuvius and
the sea, two world's wonders which were new
to me. I industriously visited the Museo
JBourbotiicOj the theatres, and the promenades ;
and during three days' residence in the foreign
city, had made myself very well acquainted
with it.
An invitation for Federigo and me came
from Professor Maretti, and his wife Santa.
c2
.34 THE IMPR0TI6AT0RB.
At the first moment, I beliered this to be *
mistake, as I knew neither the one nor tl
otlier, anil yet tlie iuTitation seenied to ht^
particular reference to me : I iras to brin^
Feilerigo ivith me. On inquiry, ]
Maretti was a verj- learned man, an uitiqna
rian ; and that Signora Santa had lately re-
turned home from a visit in Rome. I aa^ *
Federigo had made her acquaintance on th- *^
journey. Tlius then she was the NeapolitK* -^'^
!?ignora.
In the coure of the evening, Federigo am^**
I went. We found a numerouB companjru* *
well-iiglilod saloon, the itolished marble floo '
/ )
"We talk, we dance, we have a little singing,
^aid she, " and so the time flies on."
She pointed out seats to us. A young lady
"Was seated at the piano, and sung : it was pre-
c^isely the very same aria which Annunciata
Siad sung in Dido ; but it sounded with quite
another expression, and seized upon the soul
"^ith a much less powerful effect. Yet I was
compelled, with the rest, to applaud the singer ;
mjkd now she struck a few accords, and played
m lively dance : two or three gentlemen took
iheir ladies, and floated over the polished,
smooth floor. I withdrew myself into a win-
dow : a little half-famished-looking man, with
ever-moving, glassy eyes, bowed himself deeply
before me. I had remarked him, like a little
kobold, incessantly popping in and out of the
door. In order to get up a conversation, I be-
gan to speak of the eruption of Vesuvius, and
how beautiful the lava-stream was.
That is nothing, my friend," replied he,
nothing to the great revolution of 96, which
Pliny describes : then the ashes flew as far as
Constantinople. We have also, in my time,
gone with umbrellas in Naples, because of the
ashes ; but between Naples and Constantinople
there is a difference. The classical time ex-
celled us in every thing a time in which
36 TBK IMPROVISATORS.
we should have prayed, " Serus in oirf#**
! ?j)oke of the theatre of San Carlo ; .1
the man went back to the car of Thespis, .ii
gave me a treatise on the tragic and cooiie
Muses. I dropped a woi^ about the mustering
of the royal troops; and he immediately we*t
into the ancient mode of warfare, and cotrm.-
niandiii; of the whole phalanx. The onlj
question which he himself asked me wa?, wb^^
ther I studied the history of art, and g^*
myself up to antiquities. I said that tlv *
whole M'oi'ld's life, every thing lay neartoiv.^
I iVll cnll.'d I
i fii: nipuovis AToin:
fc w
But if I/' said she, " the lady of the house,
'^ere to ask you to dance with me, you would
ot refuse." "
** Yes, indeed ; for I should dance so badly
^hat we should both of us fall on the smooth
floor,"
** A beautiful idea!*' exclaimed she, and
^tipped across to Federigo, and soon were they
two floating through the room.
** A lively woman ! " said the husband, and
*^Ued, " and handsome, verv handsome, Signor
** Very handsome,** replied I politely, and
/^^Ti we were, Heaven knows how, deep in the
^^'Uscaa Vases. He offered himself as my
S'^ifle in the Museo Bourbonico, and explahied
/^ *^e what great masters they had been who
^^ painted these brittle treasures, in which
J^^^V line contributed to the beautv of the
S^res in expression of attitude, and who were
^iged to paint them whilst the clay was warm,
^ot being possible to rub any thing out,
tlst, on the contrary, every line which had
^^ been made must remain there.'*
**Are you yet deep in history?" inquired
^^ta, who again came up to us ; *' the conse-
^^^nce then follows!" exclaimed she, laugh-
^^%, and drew me away from the pedant, whilst
38 THE tUPBOTISATOnS.
ilet mV 1
she whispered, half aloud, " Do not 1
linsband ainioy you ! You intiat be gaj, n
take part in the gaivly ! I will seat joa htn
jou shall relate to me what you liave s
beard, and enjoyed."
1 then told her how mudi Xaple* ple
me ; told her of that which bad gireu memos -^*^
delight i of a little trip 1 Iwd t)ii afterDOOi^'^
made through the grotto of I'osilippo, besidu*-""^
which 1 had discovered, in a thick Tine-grore^^"*-
the ruins of a liltlo ehurdi, which bad btr ^^
converted into a family dwelling, whiUt ih-^t^^*
friendly children, and the handsome woniar -^"^
who had served me witli wiuo, had gri^tl .^'j'
contributed to make it all only tbv more i
ni antic.
" Then you bare been making ncquain?
ances?" said she. luughiug, and lifting I
forefinger; "nay, there is no need for you H
be confused about it : at your ogK the heU
does not amuae itAlf with, jl I^ent BWinon " '
g'uide for me in the Museum, And so he was ;
stud Santa, whom I often visited, became to
xxie more and more attractive. The attentions
iDvhich she shewed to me flattered me, and her
sympathy opened my heart and my lips. I
knew but very little of the worlds was in many
'fellings a complete child, and grasped, therefore,
t:lie first hand which extended itself kindly to-
me, and, in return for a hand-pressure,
ire my whole confidence.
One day, Signora Santa touched upon the
s^ost important moment of my life, my separa-
^^on from Annunciata, and I found consolation
^uid relief in speaking freely of it to the sympa-
"^liising lady. That she could see many faults
^n Bernardo, after I had given a description of
\nm^ was a sort of consolation to me ; but that
she could also find failings in Annunciata E
^ioiild not pardon.
'* She is too small for the stage," said she,
*^ altogether too slenderly made ; that certainly
yoo will concede to me ? Some substance there
most be as long as we belong to this world. I
know, to be sure, right well, that here, in Na-
ples, all the young men were captivated by her
beaaty. It was the voice, the incomparably
fine voice, which transported them into the
10 THE tMFROVISATORB.
K) Jri[-world, where Iier fine form hsd its abode
II' I were a man, I should never fall in br^
villi 'iicli a being: I should actually fear h? "^
falling to pieces at my first embrace."
:~he made me smile, and that, perhaps
tliuuglit f, was Iier iatentioD. To Asnni^
clata's talent, mind, and pure heart, she dii^
the fullfiit justice.
Duiin; tlie last evening, inspired by tb^
lauty ul' ilie surrounding country and myov
excited state of feeling, I bad written
M:ort |)oems: " Tasso in Captivity," "T
I)''^''i^'in; Monk," and some other little tyrit
perfecll'
THE IMPROVISATORS. 41
irriment how much nobler and pui*er ;
Q, as no Annunciata lived for roe, I was
[ and devoted to Santa.
ve you lately/' she asked me one day,
the handsome woman, near Posilippo,
romantic house which is half a church ? "
ly once since," I replied.
3 was very friendly?" inquired Santa,
lildren were gone out as guides, and the
1 was on the lake ? Take care of your-
gnore : on that side of Naples lies the
forld!''
lestly assured her that nothing but the
ic scenery drew me towards the grotto
lippo.
ar friend,'* said she, confidentially, ^' I
he thing better ! Your heart was full of
' the first strong love to her, whom I
t call unworthy, but who, however, did
; openly towards you ! Do not say one
uie against this: she occupied your
ind you have torn yourself from this
-have given her up, as you yourself have
1 me, and therefore there is a vacancy in
ml which craves to be filled. Formerly
ed alone in your books and your dreams ;
ger has drawn you down into the world
an life ; you are become flesh aud blood.
42 TU tHPROVISATOBB.
like tiic rest of us, aiid these assert their i^hL
And why should they not? I never judge
young man with severity; and besides tbu
tliey can act as they will!"
1 objected to this last assertion, but u "
the desolation which remained in my soul aft^
the loss of Anuunciata, she was right iiitktl
but what could supply the place of that lo*
image '.
"You are not like other people!" w*''
tinued she; "you are a poetical being; **
do you see, even the ideal Anuunciata reqnii^''
eonicthiug more of a realist ; for that
THE IMPROVISATORE. 43
iBSSor Maretti; they danced well, talked
[lently in company, received glances of
ir from tUe ladies, and were esteemed by
nen. I had known them but for a short
, and yet they confided to me already
' hearts' afiairs, which I shrunk from
^, even with Bernardo, and which only my
uned affection for him made me tolerate ia
! Yes, they were all different from mc.
Santa actually right ? should I be only a
ical being in this world? That Annun-
. really loved Bernardo was a sufficient
f thereof ; my spiritual /was perhaps dear
ir, but I myself could not win her.
bad now been a month in Naples, and yet
beard nothing either of her or of Bernardo,
lat time the post brought me a letter ; I
d it with a throbbing heart, looked at the
and the direction to divine of its contents,
fogpaised the Borghese arms and the old
sUenza's hand-writing. I hardly dared to
it.
Eternal mother of God !" I prayed, " be
ions to me! Thy will directs all things
be best!"
opened the letter and read :
Signore, Whilst I believed that you were
44 THE IMPROVIEATORE.
avuiiiii^ yourself of tlie opportunity which I
atr'cuiJed lo yoii, of learning something, mJo'
becoming a useful member of society, all i*
soing on quite otherwise; quite differently M
my intentions regarding you. As the innocenl
ccca^ioii of your mother's death, have I doM
I'lis for you. We are quits,
" Make yourrf*iu( as iniprovisatore, as poft
when and how you will, bat gire me this one
liroof of your so- oiuch-talked-of gmlitods.
never to connect my name, my solicitude fif
you. with your public life. The rtry gtt^
tcrviee which you might have rendered mehj
lelhing. vou vrould not render: ih'
THE IMPROVISATORE. 45
thou ill, Antonio?" asked be, pres3-
and ; " one must not thus wall oneself
th one's grief. Who knows whether
aldst have been happy with Annun-
rhat which is best for us always hap-
at I have found more than once, al-
ot in the most agreeable way.
at a word I handed to him the letter,
e read; in the meantime my tears
free course, but I was ashamed to let
me weeping, and turned away from
he pressed me in his arms and said,
freely ; weep all thy grief out, and
a wilt be better."
I was somewhat calmer, be inquired
whether I had taken any resolve. A
then passed through my soul ; I would
J the Madonna to me, to whose service
dicated as a child ; in her had I found
:or, and my future belonged to her,
is best," said I, " that I become a
for that my fate has prepared me;
nothing more for me in this world. I
des that only a poetical being, not a
.e the rest of you ! Yes, in the bosom
mrch is a home and peace for me ! "
reasonable, however, Antonio!" said
3 to me. " Let Excellenza, let the world
4C THE IMPSOTIBATOKE.
^ee tliat there is power in tliee, let the adrene
circumstances of life elevate and not depiw
tliee. I think and lio[e, however, that tkoi
wilt only be a monk for this evening; to-
luoiTOw, when the sun shines warmly into thy
heart, tliou wilt not be one. Thou art roJlj
an iniprovisatore, a poet, and hast soul md
knowledge. Everj- thing will be glorious, ei-
celleiit. To-nioiTOw we will take a cabrirfet,
and drive to Herculaneuni and Pompeii, ui
will ascend Vesuvius. We have not btai
there ; thou must be amused and Wrngbt
again into humour, and when all the dwk
THE IMPROVI8ATORE. 47
in gay clothes, hoarse with shouting ;
little boy, with a care-depressed conn^
, and in a white dress, stood and played
le yiolin, whilst two little sisters twirled
n a lively dance. The whole thing
d to me very tragical.
) nnhappy beings!" thought I, ** un-
as theirs, lies also my fate." I linked
closely in Federigo's, and could not
the sigh which ascended from my
w be calm and rational," whispered
o. ** First of all, we will take a little
I let the wind blow on thy red eyes,
in we will visit Signora Maretti; she
ler laugh thee quite gay again, or else
ith thee, till thou art tired; she can
better than t can."
for some time we wandered up and
le great street, and then went to the
F Maretti.
length you are come one evening out
nnmon course/' exclaimed Santa kindly
itered.
nore Antonio is in his elegiac mood ; it
removed by mirth, and to whom could
him better than to you ? To-morrow
I to Herculaneum and Pompeii, ascend
48
IMPROVISATORE.
Vi
Miviiis;
fwe
could only be blessed with an
in
jition,"
' Carpe
dUm
" broke forth from Maretii-
' I slioultl delight to make the journey wiib
yoii; but not to ascend Vesuvius, only lo s
huw it goes with the excavations in Ponipen.
1 have just received from there some little sis-''
oi'iianicuts of various colours; these I lis''
iinaiiged according to tlieir shades, and hi'*
"iihin an opusculuui on them. You must
these treasures," said he, turning to Federigo,
and give me a hint with regard to colonr.
" And you," continued he, clapping me on'''*
shall begin to be merry, a"*
THE IMPROVISATORE. 49
humour. Look at me ; you say nothing com-
plimentary; you see nothing, say nothing
about my new dress. See how becoming it is ;
a poet must have an eye for every thing. I
am slender as a pine ; regularly thin ? Is it
not so?"
" That one sees immediately," was my
reply.
** Flatterer !" interrupted she, " am I not as
usual? My dress hangs quite loosely upon
me ! Now what is there to blush about? You
are, however, a man! We must have you
more in women's society, and thus educate you
a little; that we can do excellently. Now sit
down, my husband and Federigo are up to the
ears in their blessed antiquity ; let us live for
the present; one has much more enjoyment
in that ! You shall taste our excellent Faler-
nian wine, and that directly ; you can drink
of it again with the other two."
I refused, and attempted to begin an ordi-
nary conversation on the events of the day ;
but I found, onl}' too plainly, how abstracted
I was.
" I am only a burden to you," said I, rising,
and about to take my hat. ^' Pardon me,
Signora ; I am not well, and that it is which
makes me unsociable."
TOL. II. D
50 THE IMPR0VI9AT0RE.
" You will not leaye me?" said she, drat."^*-
ing me back to my chair, and looking 8]fm^-
thiiiingly and anxiously into my face. *' WXsat
has happened?" Have confidence in xxk-
I mean it so honestly and so kindly towa.^~^
you! Do not let my petulance wound yc^n-
It is only my nature. Tell me what has ha-.^
|ioned; have you had letters? Is Bemau3*
deadf"
" No, God be praised," retamed I; " it "
another thing, quite another." ,
1 wished not to have spoken of Excellenn -"^
letter; yet, in my distress, I disclosed cver^
Till: ;^i:']:vA loi: c. LI
Uoor opened, and Federigo and Maretti en-
tered.
*^ Your friend is ill/' said she, in her usual
tone ; '' he has almost terrified me. Pale and
red in one moment ; I thought he would have
Eunted in my arms, but now he is better;
18 it not so, Antonio?"
And then, as if nothing had happened, as if
nothing had been said, she jested about me. I
felt my own heart beat, and a feeling of shame
and indignation arose in my soul; I turned
from her, the beautiful daughter of sin.
^* QwB Ht hiems VeluB, quad ctBhtm, Vala
Salemi ! *' said Maretti. ^^ How is it with heart
and head, Signor ? What has he now done, the
ferus CupidOf who always sharpens the Moody
arrow on the glowing whetstone?"
The Falemian wine sparkled in the glass*
Santa clinked her glass against mine, and said,
with ma extraordinary expression, '* To better
times!"
" To better times!" repeated Federigo; " one
most never despair."
Maretti touched his glass to mine also, and
nodded, ''To better times!"
Santa laughed aloud, and stroked my cheek*
CHAPTER in.
RAMBLE TIlItOl'GH HERCULANBUH AND POHf ^
THE ETEMNG ON VESUVIUS,
The next morning Federigo fetched me. Mi
n^uiioliiL'tl us. ['resh morning breezes bit'
1 ill: :^TIIn^ i-A': ' -in:. ')]
^^io
^*^'o I was aware of it, and drew up before a
^^ ill Recina. Under the street here, under
^Hole city, lies Herculaneum buried. Lava
^^^hes covered the whole city in a few hours;
I^le forgot its existence, and the city of Re-
^ X'ose above it.
P ^^ entered the nearest house, in the garden
^ *iich was a large open well, through which
I^^ral staircase descended.
^ See you, gentlemen," said Maretti ; ** it
il^ ^^^ ^^^^^^^^^ ^'^^^ ^^^^ *'^^ Prince of
^^uf had this well dug. As soon as they
descended a few feet, tliey found statues ;
jV^^ so the excavation was forbidden (mirabile
^^u!) For thirty years not a hand moved itself
^^^re Charles of Spain came here, ordered the
^\l to be dug deeper, and they stood upon a
^^*eat stone staircase, such as we now see here!"
The daylight descended here but to a short
distance ; and these were the seats of the great
^eatre of Herculaneum. Our guides kindled
a light for each of us to carry, and we de-
scended to the depth of the well, and now stood
upon the seats on which the spectators, seven-
teen hundred years before, had sat; like a
giant body, had laughed, been affected by, and
had applauded, the scenes of life which had been
represented !
54 THE IHPROTI3ATOBB.
A littlo lovrdoor, dose by, led u into a targe,
spacious passage. We descended to the orches-
tra ; s&vF there the different apartments for the
different musicians, the dressing-nxxn, and the
scenes theniselTea. The greatness of the whole
deeply impressed me. It could be lighted for as
only piecemeal, yet it seemed to me mach larger
than the theatre of San Carlo. Silent, dark,
and desolate, lay all aronnd us, and a world
rioted above us. As we imagine that a Tanished
race may, as spirits, enter into our scene of life
and action, seemed I now to hare stepped out
of our E^e, and to be wandering, like a ghost,
in the far-off' antiquity. I literally longed for
daylight, and we soon breathed again the warm
THE IMPROVISATOBE.
5&
re:t:i
n
^gardens grew verdantly, and the church
^alf buried in this land of death.
X myself saw this destruction ! " said Ma-
"I was a child, in the age between fac-
^nd puer, as one may say. Never shall I
t that day ! The black dross over which
e now rolling was a glowing river of fire;
how it rolled down from the mountain
ds Torre del Greco. My father (beati
martui) has even plucked ripe grapes for
"where now lies the black, stone-hairdened
. The lights burned blue within the church,
the outer walls were red from the strong
of fire. The vineyards were buried, but
church stood like a floating ark upon thig
ing sea of fire ! "
X^dke vine-branches laden with heavy bunches
^^Ung from tree to tree, and looking like one
^^gle garland, thus united themselves city to
^^ty around the bay of Naples.* The whole
"Way, with the exception of the already-men-
tioned desolate extent^ appears a Toledo street.
The light cabriolets full of people, riders on
horseback and on asses, passed one another;
* Where Tone del Greco ends begins immediately
Tofie del Annunciata. Author's Note,
a caiiivaiis of tnivellers, ladies and gciit^ "^
men, contribute; ti) tlio lite of the picture.
I had always iiiiii!^iiied Pompeii, like II e^^
culuneiiiii, bclinv the eartli, but it is not bo.
looks down fVim the inounlain over the t
ards to thu blue .ATeditcrraneao. Weascende*
\er\ step, and stood now before an opem'a^^^Sfc
made in a wall of dark-grey ashes, to whict^"^ jo
rim hedges and cotton-plants attempted tg;^^^-A
give a friendly appearance. Soldiers on gusn^^^'^.-o-
presented thenisolveB, and we entered the
urb of Pompeii.
" You have read the tetters of Tacitus?" eaid
iMarelti. " You have read those of the younger
Pliny ; now you shall have such commentaries
on his work as no other author has."
The long street in which we stood is called
the Tomb l^treet. Here are monuments on mo-
numents. Before two of these one finda round,
'H;w(lfOJ!ie seat^, with Ijeiiut'iful omatuente.
^former times, the sons and
^tliem selves, on
^^y seemed to stare upon us. On every hand
er^ traces of the earthquake which, earlier
^^^ tlie great destruction, had shaken the city.
^tiy houses plainly shewed that they were in
^ ITtgress of building exactly when the fire
^ ^slies buried them for centuries; unfinished
-^^^Vle cornices lay on the ground, and near to
, ^^^^ the models, in terra cotta, from which
^y were being worked.
^^^e had now reached the walls of the city ;
^^ "^liese, flights of broad steps led us to an am-
*^^)eatre. Before us stretched out a long,
H ^^^""ow street, paved, as in Naples, with lava-
^l"^'^, the remains of a much earlier eruption
^^ that which, seventeen hundred years be-
,^^^^'^ had devastated Herculaneum and Pom-
^^ * Deep tracks of wheels are visible in the
^J^^e; and upon the houses one still reads
r^^ names of the inhabitants, hewn in whilst
^^y yet lived there. Before a few of the houses
*^^re yet hung out signs, one of which an-
^^Unced that here, in this house, mosaic-work
^^as done.
All the apartments were small ; the light was
Emitted through the roof, or by an opening
^bove the door, a square portico inclosed the
tK)urt, which was usually only large enough for
a single little flower-bed or basin, in which the
d2
58 lEIK IKPBOVISATOBI.
fnunlaitis ))l.iyed ; for the rest, the courts 8i.zi.l
floors were ornamented with beaatiM mosaics.
in which artistical forme, circles, and qaadrant^ J
cut througli eatli other. The walls were brig^htZf
painted with ileep red, hlue, and white colour"*' 1
with feiualo dancers, genii, and light floatlc*^
figures around upon a glowing gronnd. A- *:
was indchicrihably graceful in colouring ^
drawing, and as fresh as if they had beif ^
painted oiilj' jesterday, Federigo and Maret^^*
were in deep conversatioD on the wonderli^^^_
composition of colours which resist time ^^^^
nioiily ivell, 'Tes, before I was aware w*^^0-i
' Ik
"* A J ' m: .. . '
*'Sallust!'' shouted Maretti, and lifted hia
laat, ^^ corpus sine animo! The soul is hence,
but we salute reverentially the inanimate
fcody/'
A large picture of Diana and Actaeon occu-
2ied the opposite wall. The workmen ex-
^slaimed aloud and joyfully, and brought forth
"te the light a magnificent marble table, white
is the stone of Carrara, supported by two
glorious sphinxes; but that which deeply
effected me, was the yellow bones which I
aw, and, in the ashes, the impression of a
female breast of infinite beauty.
We went across the Forum to the temple of
Jupiter. The sun shone upon the white marble
3illars ; beyond lay the smokiug Vesuvius ;
3)itch-black clouds whirled out from the crater,
nd white as snow hung the white steam over
the stream of lava, which had formed to itself a
path down the side of the mountain.
We saw the theatre, and seated ourselves
upon the step-formed benches. The stage,
with its pillars, its walled background, with
doors for exit, all stood as if people had played
there yesterday ; but no tone more will sound
from the orchestra, no Roscius speak to the
exulting crowd. All was dead around us ; the
great stage of Nature alone breathed of life*
GO THE IMPROVISATORE.
Tiie succulent green vineyards, the popalotu
I'liad wliich hd down to Salerno, and in the
Laik^rouiid the dark blue mountain, with its
sliarji outline in the wann ethereal colouring
was a ^reat theatre, upon which Pompeii itself
stood like a tragic chorus, which Bang of the
])ovver of the angel of death. I saw him, even
himself, "hose wingsare coal-black ashe, and
overfloH-ing lava which he spreads over cities
and villages.
Wq were not to ascend Vesuvius till evening,
when the glowing lava and moonlight would
)iave great effect. We tookasgesfrom Recina,
THE IMPR0VI8AT0RE. 61
-At length we came to a plain, covered with
^be iron black lava, where was neither road
^or track. Our asses carefully assayed their
footing before they advanced a step, and thus
^ only very slowly ascended the higher part of
the mountain, which, like a promontory, raised
Itself out of this dead, petrified sea. We ap-
P'^oached the dwelling of the hermit through a
'^^rrow excavated road, where only reedIike
^^etation was found. ^ A troop of soldiers sat
"^re around a blazing fire, and drank from
^^eir bottles lacrymcB Christi. They serve
^^ 2in escort for strangers against the robbers
^* the mountains. Here the torches were
"Shted, and the winds seized upon their flames
*^ if they would extinguish them, and rend
*^ay every spark. By this wavering, unsteady
^ht, we rode onward in the dark evening
'^gthe narrow, rocky path, over loose pieces
lava, and close beside the deep abyss. At
^*^gth, like a mountain, reared itself before us
til ' '
^^ coal-black peak of ashes : this we had to
^^^nd ; our asses could no longer be service-
^*^ to us; we left them, therefore, behind us
^th the lads who had driven them.
The gaidc went first with the torches, we
^^hers followed after, but in a zig-zag direction,
"^^au8e we went through the soft ashes, in
C2 THE lUPROVlSATOBE.
which we sank at every 9tep up to the knee;
nor could we keep a regular line behbd one
another, because there lay great loose stones
and blocks of lava in the ashes, which roDed^
down when we trod upon them ; at every otlitf"
step \re slid one backwards, every momenta
fell into the black ashes; it was as ifwetu^
leaden weights fastened to our feet.
" Courage !" cried the guide before us, "**
shall quickly be at the summit !" But the point
of the mountain seemed for ever to be at ihe
same height above us. Expectation and dcure
gave wings to my feet ; an hour elapsed before
THE IMPROVISATORE* 63
It not fkll. The same moment resounded
explosion which a hundred cannon could
fiiintly imitate. The smoke divided itself,
a column of fire, certainly a mile high,
id into the blue air ; glowing stones, like
i-rubies, were cast upwards in the white
I saw them like rockets falling above us,
ihej fell in a right line into the crater, or
rolled down the mound of ashes.
Eternal God !" stammered my heart, and I
Jy ventured to breathe.
Vesuvius is in a Sunday humour !" said the
e, and beckoned us onwards. I had
pned that our journey was at an end, but
j;aide pointed forward over the plain, where
whole horizon was a brilliant fire, and
re gigantic figures moved themselves like
k shades upon the strong fire-ground,
le were travellers who stood between us
the down-streaming lava. We had gone
d the mountain in order to avoid this, and
ascended it from the opposite, the eastern
In its present restless state we could not
oach the crater itself, but could only stand
16 the lava-streams, like fountains of water,
ed out of the sides of the mountain. We
^ore leA the crater on our left, advanced
the mountain plain, and climbed over
(i4 THE IMFROVISATORB.
llie great blocks of lava, for here was neither
road nor path. 'I'lie pale moonlight, an) tbe
rf'i gjure of the torches upon this uneven groundi
caiHc! every shadow, and every cleft, to Beeo
like a gulf, whilst we could see only the deep
Jarkress.
.Again the loud thunder resounded belov lu.
all bpcame night, and a new eruption gUi
btfwe lis.
Uniy slowly, and feeling hefore us withoM
hands at every step, crept we onwards towwh
our goal, and quickly we perceived that evert
tliiiij: which we touched was warm. BetweW
THE IMPBOVISATORE. 65
r head, upon the crust of lava; it glowed
'ougb the soles of our shoes; and around us,
many places, where the heat had caused
iat chinks, we could see the red fire below
; if the rind had broken, we should have
sn plunged into the sea of fire ! We assayed
ery footstep before we took it, and yet went
hastily in order to pass this space, for it
rned our feet, and produced the same effect
iron when it begins to cool and become
ick, which, when put in motion, instantly
uts again fiery sparks ; on the snow, the
t-prints were black, here red. Neither of
spoke a word; we had not imagined this
irney to have been so fearful.
An Englishman turned back to us with his
tide ; he came up to me upon the very crust
the lava where we were surrounded by the
ry red rents.
** Are there any English among you ? " he
quired.
" Italian only, and a Dane," I replied.
" The devil ! " That was all that was said.
We had now arrived at the great blocks on
hich many strangers were standing. I also
Counted one, and before me, down the moun-
^in-side, glided slowly the fresh toiTent of
^^a; it was like a redly glowing fiery slime.
THE IMPROVISATORB.
as of melted metal streaming from a fnniace
and which spread it out belovr us far and vide,
to :i vast extent. No language, no picton,
can represent Uiis in its greatness and its itu-
ful effect. The very air appeared like fire and
brimstone ; a t)iick steam floated upwards orer
the lava stream, red with the strongly refiected
light ; but all around was night. It tbo&dmd
below in the mountain, and above us ascendtd
the pillar of fire, with its glowing stars. Hent
before had I felt ntyself so near to God. Hil
omnipotence and greatness filled my soul. H
was as if the fire around me burned oat en?
i-akriess within nie ; 1 felt strength wd
THK IMPROVISATORE. 67
few paces from the place when, with a loud
ise it sank down through the broken crust,
id a cloud of sparks whirled aloft in the air ;
It I did not tremble ; I felt that my God was
iar to me: it was one of those moments in
fe in which the soul is conscious of the bliss
r its immortality, in which there is neither
iir nor pain, for it knows itself and its God.
All around us sparks were cast upwards from
imU craters, and new eruptions followed every
ibiite from the large one ; they rushed into
ke air like a flock of birds which flew all at
Qee out of a wood. Federigo was as much
Mflported as I was, and our descent from the
oouitain in the loose ashes corresponded with
^ excited state of mind ; we flew ; it was a
i^Kng through the air: we slid, ran, sank.
Rte ashes lay as soft as new-fallen snow upon
^ mountains. We needed only ten minutes
1^ our descent, whereas we had required an
W in ascending. The wind had abated ; our
^itt were waiting for us below, and in the hut
'the hermit sat our learned man, who had
'^dined making the wearisome ascent with us.
I felt myself animated anew. I turned my
lance continually backwards ; the lava lay in
i^ distance hke colossal, falling stars ; the
^n shone like day. We travelled along the
C8 THE IMrROVISATOBB.
eii:G of the beautiful bay, and saw the refln-
tioii of tliG tnooD and the lave in two long
^trerclies of tight, the one red, the other blue,
trembling on the mirror of the waters. I fell*
^tivngtli in my soul, a clearness in my compre-
hension ; yes, if I may compare the small widi
tlie great, I was so far related to BoccaciSi
tliai the impression of a place, and its mo-
isientarj' inspiration, determined the wbofe
ojieration of the spirit. Villi's grave saw li
tears, the world his worth as a poet; the gretl*
itc^s and terror of the volcano had chased aw*!
depression atid doubt; therefore, thatvhiekl
?aw tliis day and this evening is so vividly im^
THE IMPROVISATORE. 61
upbraided myself for my severe judgment
on her ; I felt that the impure thought ex-
ed in myself; her compassion and sympathy,
lich she had evidently expressed so strongly,
bad mistaken for unworthy passion. I sought
w, therefore, by friendliness and jest, which
is quite accordant with my present state of
ibd, to make up for my strange behaviour
le day before. She seemed to understand me,
od I read in her glance a sister's heart-felt
fmpathy and love.
Signora Santa and her husband had never
fit heard me improvise; they urged me to do
( I sang of our ascent to Vesuvius, and ap-
ibose and admiration saluted me. That which
^Qunciata's silent glance had spoken was
OQred in eloquent language from Santa's lips,
ltd they became doubly beautiful from these
^ords : the eye burned with looks of gratitude
itomyvery soul.
CHAPTER IV.
THE IXPR0VI6AT0RE. 71
much. Praise and encouragement are
;t school for a noble soul ; where, on the
7, severity and unjust blame either ren^
imidy or else awaken defiance and scorn,
earned this by my own experience,
etti shewed me much attention, and went
iiis way to serve me, and introduced me
ons who could be useful to me in the
hich I had chosen for myself. Santa
initely mild and afiectionate towards me;
; it seemed to me that a something within
r repelled me from her. I always went
ederigo, or when I knew that they had
ly with them; I feared lest the late
hould be renewed. Yet my eye dwelt
er when she was not aware of it ; and I
jot help thinking her beautiful. It hap-
irith me, as it so often happens in the
people are jested with ; they are told
ey love somebody that they have never
t about, nor have paid much attention
it then comes the desire to see what
nay be in this person, and why they
be fixed upon for our choice. One be-
ith curiosity, which becomes interest;
I has had examples of interest in a person
ng love. With me, however, it only
fiuther than to attention a sort of
f'2 THE IHPSOVISATORE.
outward regard which I bad never known Ik-
tbrL', but just sufficient to excite a bettii^ of
the heart an anxiety which made nie baibM.
niul kept me at a distance from her.
I iiad now heen two months in Naples; os
the next Sunday I was to make my debut a
the great theatre of San Carlo. The operaof
tliG Barber of Seville was given that sigbl;
nnd, aller this, I was to improvise on gtrcn
subjects. 1 called myself Cenci; 1 had not
the boldness to have my fVimily name placed on
the bill.
An extraordinary longing for the decia
THE IMPROVISATORE. 73
forth the zig-zag pale-blue lightning. Santa
was unwell, like the rest. '* It is fever," she
said, and her eye burned. She looked pale,
and expressed herself very much troubled about
it; because she must, and would, be in San
Carlo on the evening of my debut.
** Yes," said she, " that I shall, even though
I have a fever three times as severe the day
after. I shall not remain away. One must
venture one's life for one's friends, even if they
know nothing about it ! "
I passed my time now on the promenades,
in the coffee-houses, and the various theatres.
Again, my excited state of mind drove me to
the churches, to the foot of the Madonna; there
I confessed every sinful thought, and prayed
for courage, and for strength to follow the pow-
erful impulses of my soul. ''Bella ragazza!*'
whispered the tempter in my ear, and my
cheeks burned as I tore myself away. My spi-
rit and my blood strove for the mastery ; I felt,
as it were, a period of transition in my indivi-
dual I. The next Sunday evening I regarded
as the culmination-point.
" We must just for once go to the great gam-
bling-house," Federigo had said many a time.
** A poet must know every thing!"
We had not been there ; and I felt a kind oc
VOL. II. E
7A THE IMPHOVIflATOHB.
bashfalness in going. Bernardo tudnotnid
of mo, without 9ome d^ree of justice, tlwt nj
briiiriiig up with the good Domenica, and in
tile Jesuits' school, had infused a little ffi*
milk in my blood cowardice, ae he had also
offensively called it.
I needed more decision ; I must live morein
the world if I meant to describe it! TheK
thoughts passed impreasively throagh mymiad)
as, somewhat late in the evening, Iventtotbe
most celebrated gaming-bonse in Naples.
" I will go up there, just because I feel 6c
want of conrage to do so!" said I within my-
THE IMPROVISATOBE. 75
no one took the least notice of me. The com-
pany sat around the great gaming-table, with
pies of colonati and louis-d'or lying before
them.
A lady advanced in years, who certainly had
once been handsome, sat with painted cheeks,
and richly apparelled, grasping the cards in her
bands, whilst she fixed a &lcon glance upon
the piles of gold. Several young and very lovely
^rls stood in very confidential conversation
with some gentlemen all of them the beau-
tiful daughters of sin. Even the old lady with
the falcon eye had once won hearts, as she
could now win with their colour.
In one of the smallest of the chambers, there
stood a red and green diced table* I saw that
they set one or more colcmati upon one of these
colours ; the balls were rolled, and, if they lay
upon the selected colour, the stake was won
doable. It went on like the beating of my
pulse; gold and silver played over the board.
I also took out my purse, tlirew a colonati
upon the table, which fell on the red colour.
The man who stood before it looked at me with
an inquiring glance, as to whether it should
remain lying there. I nodded involuntarily ;
the ball rolled, and my money was doubled. I
became quite embarrassed thereby ; it remained
76 THE IHPROV18ATOSE.
lyiiii; there, and the ball rolled agun aod agiio-
Fortune favoured my play ; my blood was pnt
into motioQ. It was only my Incky piece wbieli
1 ventured; presently there lay a heap of silver
before mc, and the louis-d'or shone beside it u
a balance. I swallowed a glass of wine, formj
month was parched. The great heap of siher
increased more and more, for I took none of it
away. The ball rolled again, and, with tlie
most cold-blooded mien, the banker swept the
vhole glittering heap to himself. My beaaliful
golden dream was at an end; but it also awoke
nie. I played no more ; I had only lost the
THE IMPROYISATORE. 77
company. Before the door, but with his back
towards me, stood a young man of fine figure ;
he steadied the queue on the ball, and made a
masterly stroke, for which he was applauded.
The lady even, who had attracted my attention,
nodded kindly, and seemed to say something
amusing. He turned himself round, and wafted
her a kiss with his hand, whilst she jestingly
struck him on the shoulder. My heart beat ;
it was actually Bernardo !
I had not courage to advance nearer, yet I
desired to have perfect knowledge. I stole
along the wall towards the open door of a large,
half-lighted saloon, where, unseen myself, I
could more narrowly observe him. A twilight
pervaded this apartment ; red and white glass
lamps cast a faint light; an artificial garden
adjoined it, adorned with bowers, which, how-
ever, were only formed with painted, leaden
foliage, surrounded by beautiful orange- trees ;
staffed parrots, with brilliant plumage, swung
among the branches, whilst a hand-organ
played, in low tones, soft, graceful melodies,
that went to the heart. A mild coolness was
drafted through the open door from the arcade.
Scarcely had I cast a hasty glance over the
vrhole, when Bernardo approached with light
footsteps \ I drew myself mechanically into an
78 THB IHPHOVI8ATOBB.
arbour ; lie saw nie standing there, sinilil tx*^
nodded lo me, and, hastening^ into the nead
arbour, thrctr biinself upon seat, and hocn-
nied an air half aloud. A thonmnd emotio'DS
agitated my breast : he here ? I bo near hhn ?
I felt a trembling in all m; limbs, and w8
obliged to seat myself. The firagrant flower**
the half-suppressed music, the twil^ht, even
the soft, elastic sola, all carried me into a r*
of dream-world, and only in such a one cosid
I expect to meet with Bernardo. Whilst l
thus ^at, the yonng lady whom I have already
niGutioned entered the room and approaclM^
tlu/iiihour where 1 was; seeing this, Bemardf*
i, reco^ising his voi
t burnei^
THE IMPROVISATORK. 79
j^ ^titures of yesterday had set my whole soul
jw Motion. Never had my heart prayed more
^Hrdly to the Madonna and the saints. I
^^^t to church, received the sacrament from
^^ priest; prayed that it might strengthen
^^d purify me, and felt its wonderful power !
^^De thought only seized disturbingly upon the
^^t which was so necessary for me, and this
^as, whether Annunciata were here whether
^Qemardo had followed her. Federigo brought
^e the certain intelligence that she was not
^ere ; he, on the contrary, as the list of arrivals
shewed, had been here four days. Santa, I
^new, was ill of fever ; but, notwithstanding,
^lie insisted on going to the theatre. The play-
liills were pasted up ; Federigo told histories,
^iid Vesuvius threw up fire and ashes more vio-
lently than usual ; all was in activity.
The opera had b^un when the carriage cop-
greyed me to the theatre. Had the Fates sat at
^ny side, and my life's thread been between the
shears, I believe I should have exclaimed, '^ Cut
atway!" My prayer and my thought were,
** God lets all things be for the best."
In the green-room I found a crowd of artists
of the stage, and some fine spirits, and even an
improvisatore, and a professor of the French
language, Santini, with whom Maretti had
80 THE IHPHOVISATORE.
made me acquainted. The conversation u
easy ; they jested and laughed ; the singen
in " The Barber" came and went as if it were
from a party ; the stage was their accustomed
home.
" We shall give yon a theme," said Santini;
" oil, a hard nut to crack; but it will sucewd.
1 remember how 1 trembled the first time that
1 made my appearance; but it sacceeded! I
hud my tricks little innocent artifices wbieli
reason permits; certain little stanzas about
love, and antiquity, the beauty of Italy, poetr;
and art, which one knows how to bring in, to
eay nothing of a few standing poems; that is a
THE IMPROVI8AT0RE. 81
faallding; a thick, warm air wafted towards
me. I felt a strong resolution within me which
Was amazing to myself; to be fiure, my soul
W9LB in a state of excitement, but it was, as
it ought to be, flexible and susceptible of every
thought. As the air is the clearest when in
vrinter severe cold penetrates it, thus felt I an
elasticity and clearness all at once. All my
spiritual abilities were awake, as in this case
they must and should be.
Any one could give me a subject on a slip
:f paper, upon which I was to improvise, a
^cretary of the police having in the first place
Examined that nothing contrary to the law was
luggested. From these subjects I could make
Xiy selection. In the first I read " il cavalier
lervente ; " but I had never rightly thought over
his kind of business. I knew, certainly, that
he cicisbeo, as they are also called, was the
anight of the present time, who, now that he
tan no longer enter the lists for his lady, is her
aithfiil attendant, who stands in the place of
ler husband. I recollected the well-known
sonnet, " Femina di costume^ di maniere,^**
This sonnet is in W. Mtiller's Rom, Romer, und
^merin. The cicisbeo was established in Genoa, among
lie merchants. Business took these men much from
lome, and, in order not to confine their wives to the
e2
92 THB mPftOVIBATOBB.
but at the laouicnt not a thoaglit would ITM
ill my mind to embelliBli this subject, [opened
with impatience the Bccond paper; in it w
MTitten " Capri ;" this, alec, Tras embtrrassiig
to me; I had never been upon the island,
liait only seen its beautiiiil oantain OHtliw
from Naples. What I did not know I coold
not sing; I preferred rather " II cavalier ser-
vente."
I opened the third paper, and here I read,
"The Catacomb* of Naples;" neither hid 1
heeii here ; but with the word cataooah *
Hies moment stood before me ; th ramUe
my childhood with Federigo, and our adTcn-
THE IMPROVISATORE. 83
of Rome. I seized for a second time the thread
of happiness, and repeated, stormj plaudits
saluted me; they streamed like champagne
through my blood.
They gave me now as a subject, '^ Fata
Morgana; " I had not seen this beautiful ethereal
i^pearance, peculiar to Sicily and Naples ; but
I knew very well the beauty fairy Phantasy,
which dwelt in those splendid castles ; I could
describe my own dream-world, in which floated,
also, her gardens and castles. In my heart, in-
deed, abode life's most beautiful ** Fata Mor-
gana."
I rapidly thought over my subject ; a little^
story fashioned itself therewith, and new ideas
presented themselves in my song. I began
with a little description of the ruined church
at Posilippo, without precisely mentioning its
name. This romantic house had captivated
me, and I gave a picture of the church, which
now had become the home of the fisherman ; a
little child lay asleep on his bed below the win-
dow on which the picture of Saint George was
painted on the glass. In the still moonlight
night a beautiful little girl came to him, she was
as lovely and as light as air, and had beautiful,
bright-coloured wings upon her shoulders. They
played together, and she led him out into the
84
THE IMPROTI8ATORE.
green vtne-grOTe, shewed him r thouBtind gbri*
ous things which he bad never seen before ; they
wentout into the mountains, which opened them-
selves into large, splendid churches, full of [bc-
tnres and altars ; they mailed upon the beaatifbl
blue ^ea over against the smoking Vesuvius, ind
the mountain appeared asif of glass; they saw
how the fires burned and raged within it ; thej
went below the earth and risited the old citieti
of wliich he had heard tell, and all the people
were living; be saw their wealth and pomp,
greater even than we have any conceptioa of
from their ruins. She loosened her wingii
lioiind tbem upon his shoulders, for she, with-
Tin: IMPH)\ IATOKE. ST)
troubled and full of longing. But he must
now help his father on the sea, learn to work
the oars, to pull the ropes, and steer the boat
in the storm ; but all the more he grew, all the
more turned his thoughts towards his beloved
playfellow, who never more visited him. Late
in the moonlight nights, when he lay upon the
quiet sea, he let the oars rest, and down in the
deep, clear water, he saw the sandy, seaweed-
strewn bottom of the ocean. Fancy then
looked upwards at him, with her dark, beauti-
fal eyes, and seemed to beckon and call him
downward to her.
One morning many fishermen stood together
on the shore. Floating in the ascending beams
of the sun, not far from Capri, lay a new,
wondrously beautiful island formed of rainbow
colours, with glittering towers, stars, and clear,
purple-tinted clouds. ^* Fata Morgana!'^ ex-
claimed they all, and triumphed joyiully in the
charming apparition; but the young fisher
knew it well : there had he played ; there had
he abode with his beautiful Fancy : a strange
melancholy and yearning seized upon his soul;
but, amid his tears, grew dim, and vanished the
whole well-known image.
In the clear moonlight evening again as-
t^S THE IHPBOVIBATOBB.
cciidcd, from the promontory on whicli the
fifhcriiian stood, castles and islands fo^ooed
ofbri^^titness and of air; they saw a boat with
the sjeed of an arrow dart towards the strai^j
floating Tand and vanbh; and suddenly u
estinguislied the whole creation of light, and,
iii:rtead, a cold-black cloud spread itself ovff
the sea, a water^spout advanced along the
peaceful surface, which now began to heave ib
dark green billows. When this had vanisbed,
tlie ocean was again calm ; the moon sboM
upun the azure waters, but they saw no bott;
tlic young fisher had vanished ranisfaed wilb
the beautiful Fata Morgana!
THE IMPROTISATORE. 87
coronatioo-feast, bat the angel of death came
and first placed upon his head the crown of
immortality.
My heart beat violently; I was engrossed,
was carried away by the flight of my thoughts.
Yet was one more poem given to me, it was
**The Death of Sappho." The pangs of jealousy
I had felt as I remembered Bernardo ; Annun-
ciata's kiss upon his brow burned into my soul.
Sappho*s beauty was that of Annunciata ; but
the sufferings of her love were my own. The
ocean waters closed over Sappho !
My poem had called forth tears ; the most ex-
traordinary applause resounded from all sides,
and after the curtain had fallen, I was twice
called for. A happiness, a nameless joy, filled
my soul, and yet seemed so to oppress my
heart till it was ready to break ; and when I
had left the stage amid the embraces and con-
gratulations of my friends and acquaintance I
burst into tears, into violent, convulsive sobs.
With Santini, Federigo, and some of the
singers, a very lively evening was spent ; they
drank to my well-being, and I was happy, but
my lips were sealed !
" He is a pearl !'* exclaimed Federigo in bis
gay delight, speaking of me ; " his only fault is,
that he is a Joseph the second, whom we Danes,
,5
[hi
.. ^.. m. avA\^4a
prayers and tlianks to the Mat
Christ, wlio had not forsaken
deeply and soundly asleep.
CHAPTER V.
A.3JTA THE ERUPTION OLD CONNEXIONS.
*HE next morning I stood before Federigo
lew-born man; I was able to express my
ght ; I could not do it the evening before,
i around me interested me more ; I felt my-
y as it were, ennobled ; I seemed to have
ome more mature through the dew of en-
ragement which had fallen upon my life's
t was necessary, also, that I should pay a
t to Santa ; she had probably heard me the
Ding before ; I longed also to hear her
le, of which I was sure.
4aretti received me with rapture, but Santa,
as told, had through the whole night, after
returned from the theatre, suffered severely
^ fever; at this moment she was asleep,
I sleep would be beneficial to her. I was
90 THE IMPROVISATORE.
iriadc to promise that I would call agm Jo tb
Gvciuii;. I dined with Fedcrigo and my oei^
friends; Iiealth after health was drunk: tb^
while lacrymr Christi alternated with th^
wine of Calabria. I would not drink vaf
more: my blood was in flame, champ^n^^
must cool it.
W'c separated gaily, and full of delight-
When we came out into the street, we fctmi
the atmosphere lighted up by Vesuvins, mJ
the mighty streams of lava. Several of tb^
party drove out to see the fearful, but glonooV'
spectacle. I went to Santa, for it was a VXi^
past tlie Ave Maria. I found that she *
\i[L \y.:';{ii\ \ i,.; k !) i
gJoriously! Fortunate man! you have cap-
tivated every one ! Oh, you know not what
anxiety I had about you : how my heart beat ;
*id vrhh what delight I again breathed when
you 80 fer exceeded my greatest expectation !"
I bowed, and inquired after her health.
She gave me her hand, and assured me that
he TTRs better, " Yes, much better," said she;
**^ added, "yon look like some one newly
^*^ited! You looked handsome, very hand*
f'^^e ! When you were carried away by your
^^luration, you looked quite ideal. It was
yon yourself that I saw in every poem, in the
*ittle boy with the painter, in the Catacombs,
Rethought ^you and Federigo !"
"It was so," said I, interrupting her; *' I
^ftve passed through all that I have sung.
" Yes," replied she, " you yourself have
iMsed through all the bliss of love, the pain
Of love may you be happy as you deserve !"
I told her what a change there seemed to be
in my whole being how entirely diflFerently
life seemed now to present itself to me ; and
she grasped my hand, and looked as if into
my soul, with her dark, expressive eyes. She
W88 lovely, more lovely than common : a fine
crimson glowed upon her cheeks : the dark,
glossy hair was put smoothly back from the
tlioujxlit of one single one
your lia])]Hness. You are
captivate with your spirit,
with " She panted ;
me towards her, continn
Beriously : we have, ind
rightly to talk together
when sorrow lay so heai
You seemed thea-^yes, n
to have niiBunderstood t
My heart had doae so ;
2 reproached myself for '
serving of your goodness,
a kiss upon her band, t
dark eyes with a purity
Her glance still burned a
almost penetratingly, u
stranger eeea us, he wou
shadow where there was oi
It was, my heart could a
THE IMPROVISATORE. 93
e violently: she loosened a scarf to
the more freely. '* You are deserving of
!" said she. "Soul and beauty are de-
ng of any woman's love !"
e laid her arm on my shoulder, and
id again into my face ; and then continued,
an indescribably eloquent smile, " And
I believe that you only dream in an ideal
1! You are possessed of delicacy and
sense ; and these always gain the victory,
efore, Antonio, are you dear to me ; there-
is your love my dream, my thought!" She
me towards her : her lips were like fire,
Sowed into my very soul !
emal Mother of God ! Thy holy image,
lat moment, fell down f]*om the wall
e it stood above my head. It was not a
accident ! No ! thou touchedst my brow :
didst seize me, as I was about to sink in
rhirlpool of passion !
Ho ! no ! " exclaimed I, starting up : my
1 was like seething lava.
Antonio ! " cried she, *' kill me ! kill me !
o not leave me.*' Her cheeks, her eyes,
Ianc, and expression was passion ; and yet
ras beautiful an image of beauty, painted
me. I felt a tremour in all my nerves ;
without replying, I left the apartment;
^4 THE IHPBOTIBATOSB.
end rushed down the stepe, as if a dtrk i^
had pursued me.
When I reached the street, all waned in
i\a.me, like my blood. The current of thcuf
wafted forward heat. Vesuvius stood in Not-
ing lire eruptions in rapid aaccession lit op
every tiling around. Air ! air ! demanded Df
heart. I hastened to the Molo, in the open
bay, and seated myself exactly where the
waves broke on the shore. The blood Beemed.
to force itself to my eyes : I cooled my brow
tvith the salt water ; tore open tny coat, that
every breath of air might cool me ; but sU
iviis flame the sea even shone like the fire of
THE IMPROVISATORE. 95
ind the name of Annunciata recalled con-
sciousness to my soul.
''The lava-stream runs three ells in a
nainute," said the fellow, who with his oar
l^eld the boat firm to the land : 'Mn half an
^onr we can be there."
''The sea will cool me/' thought I, and
^tng into the boat. The fellow stood from
'^ ; spread out his sail ; and now we flew,
^ if borne onward by the wind, across the
Wood-red, glowing water, A cool wind blew
^ my cheek, I breathed more freely, and felt
"^^f calmer and better, as we approached
^d on the opposite side of the bay.
** Never again will I see Santa," I firmly
*^^rmined in my heart. " I will fly the ser-
^t of beauty, wjiich shews to me the fruit of
^Owledge. Thousands would ridicule me for
'^^^ 80 ; but rather their laughter than the
'Renting cry of my own heart. Madonna,
^Oti didst permit thy holy imi^e to fall from
^ wall, that thereby I might be preserved
^tnl&lling !" Deeply did I feel her protect-
S grace.
A. wonderful joy now penetrated me: all
^t was noble and good sang hymns of victory
^ Uy heart : I was again the child of soul and
^^^ht. " Father, direct Thou every thing as
f)6 THE IHPBOVISATORE.
is 1)c.st for me ! " I ejaculated in prayer ; and,
full of the enjoyment of life, as if myhappi-
iK'SS was eBtablisbed for erer, I rambled
tliroiigli the streets of tbe little town to the
l,igl,road.
Mvery tiling was in motion ; carria^ ud
calriolot9 laden with people drove past me;
tljey Hliouted, huzzaed, and sang, and even
tljiiig around was lit up by the flame. Tbt
torrent of lava had approached a small rity
which lay upon tlie side of the mountain;
families fled therefrom. I saw women vith
litilc children at tbe breast, and with smill
]uii(lles under their arms, heard their It
f
THE IMPR0VI8AT0RB. 97
I
the brandy-sellers, people in carriages, and
people on horseback, all lighted up with the
red fire-lights, formed a picture of which, in
its completeness, no description can be given.
One might advance quite close to the lava
which had its determined course ; many peo-
ple stuck in their sticks, or else pieces of
money, which they took out again, attached
to a piece of lava.
Fearfully beautiful was it when a part of the
fiery mass, from its size, tore itself loose; it
was like the breakers of the sea : the descend-
ing piece lay like a beaming star outside the
stream. The air first of all cooled the project-
ing comers ; they became black, and the whole
piece appeared like dazzling gold, inclosed in a
coal-black net. There had been hung on one
of the vines an image of the Virgin, in the
hope that the fire would become suspended
before the holy form ; but it advanced onward
in the same uniform course. The heat singed
the leaves on the tall trees, which bowed down
their crown-like heads to the fiery mass as if
they would beseech for mercy. Full of expec-
tation, many a glance rested on the image of
the Virgin, but the tree bowed itself deeply
with her before the red fire-stream ; it was only
dbtant a few ells. At that moment I saw a
VOL. 11. F
9b thb iHPAOvisA-roax.
Capiicliin monk close beside me throw his
arms aloft and exclaim that the image ofthe
MaJonna caught fire, " Save her ! " cried be,
" so will she save you from the flames of the
fire!"
Ail trembled and drew back when, at that
niuiuent, a woman started forward, cried alond
tlic name of the Madonna, and hastened to-
wards the glowing death. Whilst this wis
doing, I saw a young officer on horseback,
with his drawn Eword drive her hack, altboagh
the tire stood like a wall of rock by his side.
" Mad woman !" exclaimed he, " Madoou
THB IMPR0VI8AT0RE. 99
voice exclaim ; I fancied that it was Bernardo ;
a hand pressed mine, it was Fabiani, the son-
in-law of Excellenza, the husband of Francesca,
who had known me as a child, and who now,
as I must imagine from the letter which I had
received, was angry with me like the others,
and, like them, had cast me off.
" Nay, that we should meet here !" said he.
** It will delight Francesca to see you ! But it
is not handsome of you that you have not been
to visit us. We have actually been eight days
at Castelamare ! "
*' I knew nothing of that," replied I, " be-
sides "
^* Yes, all at once you are become quite
another person ; have been in love, and,*'
added he, more gravely, ^' have also fought a
duely on which account you have regularly
eloped, which I cannot at all commend. Ex-
cellenza has just now announced it to us, and
we were astonished at it. He has, however,
written to you, has he not, and that truly not
in the mildest manner?"
My heart beat violently ; I felt myself thrown
back into the fetters which benefits had riveted
upon me, and expressed the distress which I
had experienced in being cast off by them all.
100 THE IHPBOTIBATOBB.
" Nay, nay, Antonio!" said Fabiani, "itis
nut so bad as tliat. Come with me to my car-
riage ! I'rancesca will be astonished to see you
tlii^ evening ; we shall soon be at Castelamare,
and we will find a place in the hotel for you.
You shall tell me what you have seen,
sin to despair. Excellenza i
know hini ; but all will t
" No, that it cannot
aloud, falling back again into my former euf'
fering.
" It shall and will !" said Fabiani, with de '
tenuinalion, and led me towards his carriage.
tee in tne notel for you.
. you have seen. It ii *
illenza is violent ; you 1
I be right again." I
lot be," replied 1, half '
THE IMPROYISATORE. 101
*' Yesterday evening," replied I.
** That was too daring," intermpted he ;
" and how did it go off?"
*' Gloriously ! most fortunately !" returned I,
joyfully. '* I received the greatest applause
was twice called for."
'Ms it possible? You have succeeded?"
There was a doubt, a surprise in these words
which wounded me deeply, but the obligations
of gratitude bound my lips, as well as my
thoughts.
I felt a sort of embarrassment in presenting
myself to Francesca ; I knew, indeed, how
grave and severe she could be. Fabiani con-
soled me, half jestingly, by saying that there
should be neither confession nor castigatory
sermon, although I had actually so well de-
served it.
We reached the hotel.
"Ah, Fabiani!" exclaimed a young, hand-
somely dressed and curled gentleman, who
sprang forward to meet us. " It is well you
are come, your Signora is quite impatient.
Ah!" said he, breaking off the moment be
saw me, " you are bringing the young impro-
visatore with you ! Cenci, is it not ?"
*' Cenci ?" repeated Fabiani, and looked at
me in amazement.
102
THE IMPROVIBATOBB.
" The name under which 1 appeared in pob-
iic," I replied.
" Indeed t" said he; "well, that was very
rational."
" He can singabout love, "said the stranger*
"you should have heard him in San Carlo last-
evening. That is a talent ! "
He offered me his hand obligingly, tnc*-
shewed his delight in making my agreeabl^^
acquaintance.
" i shall sup with you this evening," said h^^
to Fabiani, " and invite myself on account f^j
your excellent ginger, and you and your
\
THB IMPROYISATORB. 103
the honour of knowing; my name is Gtennaro,
officer in King Ferdinand's Guard;" and, added
he, laughing, '' of a good Neapolitan family !
Many people give it even number One. It may
be that this is right ; at least my aunts make very
much of that ! Inexpressibly delightful is it to
me to make the acquaintance of a young man
of your talent, your "
"Be quiet!" interrupted Fabiani, "he is
not accustomed to such speeches; now you
know one another. Francesca waits for us;
there will now be a reconciliation-scene between
her and your improvisatore : perhaps you will
here find occasion to make use of your elo-
quence."
I wished that Fabiani had not spoken in
this way ; but they two were friends^ and how
could Fabiani place himself in my painful
position? He led us in to Francesca; I invo-
luntarily held back a few steps.
" At length, my excellent Fabiani!" she
exclaimed.
' At length," repeated he, " and I bring two
guests with me."
** Antonio!" exclaimed she, and then again
her voice sank ; " Signore Antonio !*'
She fixed a severe, grave glance upon me
and Fabiani; I bowed, wished to kiss her
104 THE IMPBOVIBATORE.
I)anl, liiit she seemed not to oTuerre it
ofiiTtid ii lo Gennaro, and expressed the grta^
pleasure slio liad in seeing him to supper,
" TlII nie abont the eruption," said she **
her ]iusli;ind ; "has the lava-stream change**
ils (iircctLoii?"
Faliiiini told her about it, and ended by sa^^'
iri": iliiit iliLTc he hod met tvith me: that I n^^^
l)i- iritost, iind that now mercy must be shew "
hefin'c judgment.
" Ves," exclaimed Gennaro, " I cannot ^^t
alt ijiiiii^iuo how he can have sinned ; but eve^r^
thiii;^ must be forgiven to genius."
V best humour," sa ""
THE IMPROVISATOBB. lOSi
** He sarpassed my nay, everybody's highest
pectations/' replied he. '' It is not said to
itter him; and of what consequence, indeed,
ould my poor criticism be to him, bat that
2s indeed improvisation ! He was thoroughly
aster of his art^ and carried us all along with
im. There was feeling, there was fancy. He
xng about Tasso, about Sappho, about the '
'atacombs ; they were poems which were wor-
ly of being preserved ! "
" A beautiful talent ! *' said Francesca ; " one
tnnot sufficiently admire it. I wish I had
en there."
* But we have the man with us," said Gen-
t.TO, and pointed to me.
' Antonio !" exclaimed she, inquiringly; "has
improvised?"
^* Yes, like a master," replied Gennaro ;
lut you know him already, and must there-
e have heard him."
**Yes, very often," returned she, smiling;
'^e admired him always as a little boy."
*' I myself put the wreath on his head the
^^ time that I heard him," said Fabiani,
l^ewise in jest. " He sang about my lady-
^^e before we were married ; and, as a lover,
thus worshipped her in his song ! But now
^ sapper! Gennaro, you will conduct my
f2
106 TnK IMPROVIBATOBE,
Francesca; and, as we bave do more ladies, I
will take the iniprovisatorc. Signore Antooro!
I request yowr hand."
He then conducted me after the olhen into
the aiipper-room.
" But you have never told me about Cenci,
or whatever you c&ll the youu^ gentlfitDBii,
said Gennaro.
"We call him Antonio," replied FftbiBoi'
" we did not really at all know that it was he
who was to make bis debut ah iniproviaaloK-
You see this is exactly the reconoiliatior-Bccn*
of which I spoke. You must know that he"***
in a manner, a son of the hoase. Is it not M^ '
Antonio ? "
I bowed, with a ^mteful look, and ftbiw.-^,
continued, " He is an excellent person; thei^^^
is not a slain upon his characler; hut bewiL-^^
not leam any thing." j^
" But if he can now read every thing mud^* ,
better out of the great hook of Nature, wby^^
1
TAB IMPB0YI8AT0BE. 107
''That shews that he has feeling?" said
Gennaro. ''And was she handsome? What was
her name?"
" Annunciata/' said Fabiani ; *' of extraordi-
Qary talent, and a very distinguished woman."
" I myself have been in love with her," said
Grennaro. '' He has good taste. Here is to
Annunciata's health, Sir Improvisatore!"
He touched his glass against mine ; I could
Dot say a word : it tortured me that Fabiani
BO lightly could lay bare my wound before a
stranger ; but he indeed saw the whole thing
from quite a different side to what I did.
" Yes," continued Fabiani, " and he has also
fought a duel for her sake, wounded the ne-
phew of the senator in the side, who was his
rival, and so he has been obliged to fly. Heaven
Icnows how he has conveyed himself across the
frontiers; and, thereupon, he makes his ap-
pearance in San Carlo. It is, in fact, an act
of temerity which I had not expected from him."
" The senator's nephew?" repeated Gennaro^
" now that interests me. He is within these
few days come here, has entered into the royal
service. I have been with him this very after-
noon a handsome, interesting man. Ah, now
I comprehend it all ! Annunciata will soon be
here; the lover has flown hither before her.
1U8 TBB IHPROTIBATORB.
settles bimeelf down, and very soon we shall
read in the play-bilU that the singer makes
her appearance for the last, positively for the
last time."
" Do you fancy, then, that he will many
her?" inquired Francesca; "but that wovU)
however, be a scandal in his family."
" One ha instances of aacb things," lud I,
with a tremulous voice; "an instance of a no-
bleman, who considered himself ennobled and
happy by gaining the hand of a singer."
" Happy, perhaps,** intermpted she, "Ifflt
never ennobled."
THB IMPROVI8ATORE. 109
" Another time I will do every thing which
iron can desire from me," said I, '' but this
evening, it is impossible to me. 1 am not quite
veil. I sailed across the bay without my cloak ;
t was so warm by the lava-stream, and then I
Irove here in the cool evening."
Gennaro besought me most pressingly to im-
provise notwithstanding, but I could not in
this place, and upon this subject.
** He has already the artist's way with
him," said Fabiani ; ''he must be pressed.
Will you, or will you not, go with us to-mor-
row to Paestum? there you will find material
enough for your poetry. You should make
yourself a little scarce. There cannot be much
^hich binds you to Naples."
I bowed and felt myself in a difficulty, whilst
I did not see how I could refuse.
" Yes, he goes with us," exclaimed Gen-
naro ; '* and when he stands in the great tem-
ple, and the spirit comes over him, he will sing
like a Pindar!"
*' We set off to-morrow morning," continued
Fabiani ; " the whole tour will occupy four
days. On our return we will visit Amalfi and
Capri. You must go with us."
A no, might, perhaps, as the consequence
Mil shew, have changed my whole fate. These
1 10 THE IHPBOTHATOBS.
four days robbed me, dare I sky it, of six jein
of my youth. And man is a free a^nt! Yes,
we can freely seize upon the threada which lie
before us, but how they are firmly twisted
together, we do not see. I gave my thank^
and said yes ; and seized hold upon the threid
which drew the cnrlun of my future man
closely together.
" To-morrow we shall have more talk toge-
ther," said Francesca, when after supper we
separated, and she extended to me her hwJ
to kiss.
" This very evening I shall, however, wiile
THE IMPROVI9ATORB.
Ill
bomiDg picture of the Madonna, and then
on the last hours spent amid old connexions.
Yesterday a whole public, to whom I was a
stranger, had received me with acclamation;
I was admired and honoured. This very even-
ing, a woman, rich in beauty, had made me
conscious of her love for me ; and a few hours
afterwards I stood among acquaintance, friends,
whom I had to thank for every thing ; and as
Qothing before them but the poor child, whose
first duty was gratitude.
But Fabiani and Francesca had really met
me with affection; they had received me as
the prodigal son, had given me a place at their
table ; invited me to join them in a pleasure
tour on the morrow. Benefit was added to
benefit; I was dear to them. But the gift
^hich the rich present with a light hand lies
lieavily upon the heart of the poor !
CHAPTER Vr.
JODRKEY TO PJE9TCM THE ORHCIAS TEMPW"
THE BUND OIRL.
The beanty of Italy is not found is Af
CarnDB^nft. nor vet ia Biime. I knflir U JHdtT,
THE IMPROYISATORE. 113
ther, but one understands not the whole
ture put together piecemeal. Thus it is in
ure ; of the entire greatness there must be
^ays something wanting. One gives the
gle pieces, and thus lets the stranger put
m together himself; but if hundreds saw
i complete picture, each would represent it
'y differently. It is with nature, as with a
iGtiful face, no idea can be formed of it by
t mere details of it ; we must go to a well-
own object, and only when we can say, with
Lthematical precision, that this resembles
it, with the exception of this or that par-
ular, can we have, in any degree, a satis-
'tory idea.
If it were given to me to improvise on the
^aty of Hesperia, I would describe with
Btct truth the real scenes which my eye here
held; and thou who hast never. seen the
auty of South Italy, thy fancy might beautify
ery natural charm with which thou wast ac-
^inted, and it would not be rich enough.
^ ideal of nature exceeds that of man.
In the beautiful morning we set off from
^telamare. I see yet the smoking Vesu-
^^8, the lovely rocky valley, with the great
'Je-woods, where the juicy green branches
^^ from tree to tree; the white mountain-
114 THE 1MPB0V18ATORK.
castles perched on the green cliffs, or hiB-
boried in olive-woods. 1 see the old tetnjlil
of Vesta, with its marble pillars and its cupolt,
now the church of Smitn Maria Maggiore. A
piece of the wall was overthrown ; skulls tli
human booes closed tlie opening, bgt the
green vine-shoots grew -iIdly over tlieiu, ad
seemed as if, with tiieir fresh leaves, ib^
would conceal the power and terror ofdcatfu
1 see yet the wild oiitliae of the mouolaill,
the anliiary towers, where nets were spread flit
to catch the flocks of sea-birds. Deep blo
UB lay Salerno, with the dark-blue sea, mJ
THE IMPROYISATORE. 115
more in that than in any learned musty book
whatever."
" We may learn out of both," replied I,
** wine and bread must go together."
Francesca discovered that I spoke very ra-
tionally.
' In talking there is no coming short in
bim/' said Fabiani, '' but in deeds ! You
will have an opportunity of shewing us that,
Antonio, when you come to Rome."
To Rome! I go to Rome? This thought
bad never occurred to me. My lips were
silent; but my inmost heart said to me that
I could not would not again see Rome, again
enter into the old connexions.
Fabiani continued to talk, so did the others,
iod we arrived at Salerno. Our first visit was
to^the church.
** Here I can be cicerone," said Geunaro;
** this is the chapel of Gregory the Seventh,
the holy father who died in Salerno. His
marble statue stands before us upon the altar.
There lies Alexander the Great," continued he,
pointing to a huge sarcophagus.
" Alexander the Great?" repeated Fabiani
inquiringly.
. *' Yes, certainly; is it not so?" asked he
tnmk the attendant.
As Excellenza says/' replied be.
I 16 THE IMPnOVlSATORE.
" That is a mistak*-," remarked I, obsfrr-
ing llie Tuonumeat more neHrlv. " Aleiamlc
really cannot lie liunet] here, lliHt is afpiinit
bII history. See only, it i th trimpli8] pw
crseion of Alesandcr, which ia reprepentei! on
the sarcophagus, and thence is derived ^
As sioon &a we had entered tiito the ehui^
they shewed tis a similar surcophagn*, op""
which was delineated a liac-chunuliau trina^.
which had been brought bhher from the teO"
pie in Ptestum, and now had been coovfrtw
into the burial-place for a Salemisn prin*
nhnsP ninclorfi mspUo slatuA t]i iu afiife.
TH IMPROYISATORE. 117
'* What a beautiful play of colours !" said I,
d pointed to the sea, which, white as milk,
etched itself out from the broad lava-paved
eet to the rosy-hued, brilliant horizon whilst
e rocky coast was of a deep indigo blue;
ch a pomp of colouring I had never seen in
ine.
'*The clouds have already said, ' Felicissima
tte!*^* remarked Francesca, and pointed to
e mountain, where a cloud hung high above
e villas and the olive-woods, and yet far be-
w the old castle, which, with its two towers^
18 nearly perched on the top of the moun-
in.
*' There I should like to dwell and live ! '*
^claimed I, " high above the cloud, and look
U over the eternally changing sea.'*
*' There you could improvise!" said she,
niling; "but then nobody would hear you,
kd that would be a great misfortune, An-
nio!"
"Oh, yes!" replied I, likewise jestingly, ** if
mast be candid, entirely without applause,
like a tree without sunshine ! That, of a
-rtainty, gnawed into the flower of Tasso's
e, in his captivity, as much as did the un-
^ppiness of his love ! "
''Dear friend!" interrupted she, somewhat
118 TUB IMPROV
gravely, " I am now speaking of you, tnd not
of Tasao! what have we to do with him is
this question?"
" Only aa an example," replied I ; "Tssw
was a poet, and "
" You believe it to be so," interrupted fi
hastily ; "but, for Heaven's sake, dear Anlonio.
do not ever mentioa an immurtal nauu; ip cou-
junction with your own t Do not fanoy ihatyw
are a poet, an improvisatore, because you lu
an easily excited temperament of mind,&Ddlh
art of catching up ideas! Thouaands can it
this as well as you I Do not go and mlit
THE IMPROVISATORE. 119
of itself! People must labour! Your
is a charming company talent ; you may
many of your friends by it, but it is not
nough for the public."
it," I ventured to suggest, " Gennaro,
d not know .me, was yet enchanted with
t appearance in public."
nnaro!" repeated she, "yes, with all
}em for him, I set no value at all upofi
gment of art! And the great public?
the capital, artists very soon hear quite
ent opinion ! It was very well that you
ot hissed ; that would really have dis-
me. Now it will all blow quietly over,
ry soon will be entirely forgotten both
I your improvisation ! Then you assumed
sd name also ! In about three days we
e again in Naples, and the day after-
we return to Rome. Regard it all as a
as it really has been, and shew us, by
y and stability, that you are awake
Do not say a word, now I intend
by you; I am the only one who tells
I truth!"
^ve her hand for me to kiss.
next morning we set off in the early,
wn, in order that we might reach Pses-
Oranjre-yardeiis, woo(
lay on either hand. Wt
SeJa, in whose clear watt
ing-wUlowB and laurel he
inclosed a fertile com-.
cacruses grew wildly by
thing was luxuriant and a
saw before us the anciei
thousand years' old, bull
beautiful style ; this, a m
three wretched dwelling
reeds, were now all that
nownedcity. We saw doi
and the multitude and a
roeee bad once given its
At that time a crimson g
fields, now they were blue
the distant mountains ; fra
the great plain, springing
thorns. A wilderness of fer
TfiB IBfPROVIdATORB. 121
landscape ; its abundance and Inxnriance ; its
Grecian temples and its poverty. A whole
crowd of beggars stood around us, who resem-
bled the natives of the South Sea Islands.
Men clad in long sheep-skins, with the wool
outside, with naked, dark brown limbs, and
the long black hair hanging loosely around the
brown yellow countenance ; girls of the most
beautiful forms, only half clad, with the short
skirt hanging in tatters to the knee ; a sort of
doak, of ugly brown stuff, thrown loosely
around the bare shoulders, and the long black
hair bound together in a knot, and with eyei
that flashed fire.
Otie young girl there was, scarcely more
than eleven years old, lovely as the Goddess
of Beauty, and yet resembling neither Annun
ciata nor Santa. I could think of nothing else
bat the Medicean Venus, as Annunciata had
described it,, as I looked at her. 1 could not
feve^ but admire, and bow before the form of
beauty.
She stood at a little distance from the other
beggars ; a brown square piece of cloth hung
loosely over one shoulder, the other breast and
arm were, like her feet, uncovered. That she
thought of ornament, and had the taste for it^
was proved by the smoothly bound-up hair, in
VOL. II. a
countenance. Her eyes
she sought for sometliinj
Gennaro perceived ht
she spoke not a word,
patted her under the chir
too handsome for the real
biani and Franceses were
a fine crimaoD difi'use i
brown skin, and, raising
she was blind.
Gladly would I, too, b
bat I ventured not to do
were gone to the little h
whole troop of bej^ars, I ;
roond and pressed a scud
the feeling she seemed to
cheeks burned, she bent fl
lips of health and beaut;
the touch seemed to go t
tore myself away and folio
THE IMPROYI8ATORE. 123
which compelled us to go outside, and behind
the tally shadowy weeping willow our breakfast
was prepared, whilst we went to the temple.
We had to pass through a complete wilderness.
Fabiani and Gennaro took hold of each other's
hands, to make a sort of seat for Francesca, and
thus carried her.
"A fearful pleasure-excursion!" cried she,
laughing.
"O Excellenza!" said one of our guides,
*' it is now magnificent : three years ago there
was no getting through here for thorns, and in
my childhood sand and earth lay right up to
the pillars."
The rest affirmed to the truth of his remark,
and we went forward, followed by the whole
troop of beggars, who silently observed us ; the
moroent our eye met that of one of the beggars,
he immediately stretched out his hand me-*
chanically to beg, and a miserabile resouniied
from bis lips. The beautiful blind girl I could
Hot see ; she now, indeed, sat alone by the way-
side. We went over the ruins of a theatre and
a temple of peace.
*' A theatre and peace !" exclaimed Gennaro ;
*' how could these two ever exist so near to
^ach other?"
The Temple of Neptune lay before us ; this,
Buried amid rubbish,
grown, tlicy lay conceale
a foreign painter, who s(
his pencil, came to this
the uppermost of the pil
tracted him ; be made a a
became known ; the ru
growth of plants were rem
fiirtb, as if rebuilded, the li
columns are of yellow Tra
TJnes grow up around the:
from the floor, and in clef
forth violets and ihe dark-
We seated ourselves upt
ofthe broken columns. Gc
beggars away that we mi^
the rich scene around us.
the near sea, the place i
were, seized strongly upon
" Improvise now to us !
THB IMPROYISATORB. 125
tare ; the glorious memorial of art ; and I
thought on the poor blind maiden, from whom
all magnificent objects were concealed. She
was doubly poor, doubly forlorn. Tears came
to my eyes : Gennaro clapped his hands in
applause ; and Fabiani and Francesca said
apart to each other, '' He has feeling."
They now descended the steps of the temple.
I followed them slowly. Behind the pillar
against which I had stood sat, or rather lay, a
human being, with her head sunk to her knees,
and her hands clasped together : it was the
blind maiden. She had heard my song
had heard me sing of her painful yearning
and of her deprivations : it smote me to the
soul. I bent myself over her : she heard the
rustling of the leaves, raised her head, and to
me it seemed that she looked much paler. I
rentured not to move. She listened.
** Angelo!*' she exclaimed, half aloud.
I know not why^ but I held my breath ; and
ahe sat for a moment silent. It was the Gre-
.eian goddess of beauty which I saw, with eyes
without the power of vision, such as Annun-
faata had described her to me. She sat on the
pedestal of the temple, between the wild fig-
tree and the fragrant myrtle-fence. She
piiesaed a something to her lip0, and smiled :
126 THE IHPBOTIBATOBB.
it ^as the scudo which I had given to tier. I
grt^'w quite warm at the sight of it, howed my*
$e)r involuntarily, and pretised a hot kiss upon
her forehead,
SliG started up with a cry, a thrilling cry,
nhich sent, as it were, a death-pang throagh
my soul. She sprung up like a ternfied deWt
and was gone. I saw nothing more, every
tiling was in motion around me, and I, loo,
mtide my escape through thorns and bushes.
" Antonio! Antonio!" I heard FahianictU-
iii;r lo me a long way hehind ; and again Ibe-
thucin;lit myself of time and place.
THB IMPROYISATORB. 127
ulthough innocently, sung care and sorrow into
her heart, by making her deprivations more
intelligible to her. I had excited terror and
anxiety in her soul, and had impressed a kiss
upon her brow, the first which I had ever given
to a woman. If she could have seen me, I
had not dared to do it : her misfortune her
defencelessuess had given me courage. And
I had passed such severe judgment on Ber-
nardo ! I who was a child of sin like him,
like every one ! I could have kneeled at her
feet, and prayed for forgiveness ; but she was
nowhere to be seen.
We mounted the carriage to drive back to
Salerno ; yet once more I looked out to see if
I could discover her ; but I did not venture to
inquire where she could be.
At that moment, Gennaro exclaimed,
'* Where is that blind girl ?"
'* Lara?*' said our guide. '* She still sits in
the Temple of Neptune: she is generally
there.*'
Sella DivinaT cried Gennaro, and wafted
n kiss with his hand towards the temple. We
itlledaway.
She was then called Lara. I sat with my
'''back to the driver^ and saw when the columns
of the temple became yet more and more dis-
128 THE JHPBOTUATOal,
tant ; but within my heart iotmied the ftngiiUi-
cry of the girl, my own tuffenng.
A troop of gipsies had encamped ibemselTH
by tlie rcMd-elde, and bad made a great fire in
tlie ditch, over which they were boiling ud
roasting. The old gipsy mother struck upon
the tambourine, and wanted to tell as our to^
tunos, but we drove past. Two hlack-ejed
girls followed us for a considerable time. Thej
were handsome : and Genaaro made himettf
merry about their easy motions and their fluh*
inr eyes ; but beautiful and noble as Lara were
tlicv not.
THB IMPBOTISATORB. 129
" We wUl take care of all that ! " exclaimed
Fabiani to me.
* Forgive me, but I cannot!*' I stammered,
and seized Francesca's hand. *' I feel deeply
that which I owe you."
*' Say nothing of that, Antonio/' she replied,
and laid her hand upon my mouth.
Strangers at that moment were announced ;
and I withdrew silently into a corner, feeling
how weak I was.
Free and independent as a bird had I been
only two days before! and He/wbo permits
not a sparrow to fall unheeded to the gi'odiid
would hare cared for mc ; and yet I let thie first
thin thread which twined itself roond my feet
grow to the strength of a cable.
In Rome, thought I, thou hast true friends,
true and honest, if not so courteous as those in
Naples. I thought on Santa, whom I never
more wonld see. I thought on Bernardo,
whom I actually should meet in Naples every
day on Annunciata, who would come here
on his and her happiness in love. *' To Rome !
to Rome ! it is much better there ! " said my
heart to me, whilst my soul struggled after
freedom and independence.
g2
CHAPTER Vn.
THE ADTENTfRe IK AMALFI THE DLCEOH0TT0
OP CAPRI.
How beautifully Salerno looked out from
:be sea, as, m the delicious morning bour, ot
sailed away from it. Six stout fellows pulln
THE IMPROTISATORB. 131
This great affluence of beauty overpowered
me. Would that all the generations of the
earth could see these glorious scenes ! No storm
from the north or west brings cold or winter to
the blooming garden upon whose terrace Amalfi
is placed. The breezes come only here from
the east and the south, the warm breezes from
the r^on of oranges and palms, across the
beautiful sea.
Along the shore, high up on the side of the
mountain, hangs the city, with its white houses
with their flat, oriental roofs; higher still
ascend the vineyards. One solitary pine-tree
lifts up its green crown into the blue air, where,
on the ridge of the mountain, the old castle,
with its encircling wall, serves as a couch for
the clouds.
The fishermen had to carry us through the
surf from the boats to the land. Deep caves
in the cliffs extended even under the city;
into some of these the water flowed, others
were empty. Boats lay beside them, in which
played crowds of merry children, most of them
only in a skirt or little jacket, which consti*
tuted their whole clothing. Half-naked lazza-
roni stretched themselves in the warm sand,
their brown cowls pulled up about their ears^
this being their most important covering during
132 THS IHntOTI4T0R8.
their noon-day'B sleep. All the ehnrch-bdli
were ringing; k proeeasion of young priests in
violet-coloured dresMR went past qi, nnpog
psalms. A fresh gRrland of flowers buogtroand
the picture which was festened to the cross.
To the left, high shore the city, sUodi I
ning:niticently great coDTent, just before *iff
mountain -cave; this is the kerbrrg for all atrtn-
gers. Franceeca was carried up ia a titter;
we ntlieni followed after, along the road cat in
the rock, with the clear, bine sea lying deeplj
below lis. We had now reached the gate of ibt
convent, exactly opposite to which a deep can
7HS IIIPROYI8ATOR& 133
not w descend into the lower regions, and see
whether the beauty there ia as great as it is
here ! The female beauty is so, of a certainty !
Por the English ladies that we have here for
Beighboors are cold and pale ! And you have
a taste for the ladies ! I beg your pardon. It
is this exactly which has driven you out into
the world, and will give me a charming even-
ing, and an interesting acquaintance!"
We descended the rocky path.
'^The blind girl in Psestum was, however,
very handsome !" said Gennaro. '' I think that
I shall send for her to Naples when I send for
roy Calabrian wine ! Both one and the other
would set my heart in a glow !"
We arrived at the city, which lay, if I may
so say, singularly piled upon itself. Beside of
it, the narrow Ghetto in Rome would have been
a Gorso. The streets were narrow passages be-
tween the tall houses, and right through them.
Now one comes through a door into a long
landing-place, with small openings on the sides
leading into dark chambers, then into a narrow
lane between brick-work and walls of rock,
steps op and steps down, a half-dark labyrinth
of dirty passages; I often did not know whe-
ther it was a room or a lane in which we were.
In most places lamps were burning; and if it
134 TBB IMPBOVISATOBE.
had not been so, although it was mid^da;, it
would have been dark a night.
At length we breathed more freely. We sioad
upon a great brick-work bridge, which con-
iiectcl together two ridges of roi-k ; the liltia
square below iia was rertainly the largest in the
whole city. Twii girls were dancing there the
saliarelh, and a little boy, entirely nakeJ,
beautifully formed, and with brown limbs, stood
looking on, like a little Cupid. Here, they told
me, it never freezes. The severest cold Araalfi
hae known for many years has been eight de-
grees above zero.
THB IlCPBOyiSATORB. 135
a beautifully chiselled arm and foot, which had
been found among the rubbish. Upon the roof
even was a charming garden of oranges and
luxurious twining plants, which, like a curtain
of green velvet, hung down over the wall ; in
the fi^nt blossomed a wilderness of monthly
roses. Two lovely little girls, of from six to
seven years old, played and wore garlands;
but the most beautiful, however, was a young
woman with a white linen cloth on her head,
who came to meet us from the door ! The in-
tellectual glance, the long, dark eye-lashes, the
noble form, yes, all made her indescribably
beautiful ! We both involuntarily took off our
hats.
''This most beautiful maiden, then, is the
possessor of this house?" inquired Gennaro.
" Will she, then, as mistress of the house, give
to two weary travellers a refreshing draught?"
** The mistress of the house will do that with
pleasure! " said she, smiling, and the snow-white
teeth parted the fresh, rosy lips. " I will bring
out wine to you here ; but I have only of one
kind."
** If you serve it, it will be excellent!" said
Gennaro. " I drink it most willingly when a
young maiden as handsome as you serves it."
136 THE IMPKOriSATOBK.
" But Excellenza must he to good u to Islk
to a wife to-day!" said she. sweetly.
"Are you married," asked Gennaro, imiliDg.
"so young?"
" Oh, I am very old!" said she, and langfacJ
also.
" How old?" inquired I.
Shf looked arclily into my faee, and replied,
*' Eiglit-and-twortyyoar old!" She was ujikJi
Dearer fifteen, but most beautirully devvl^d;
a Hebe could not have been foniied owre ex-
quisitely.
" Eight-and-twenty !" aaid GennaTO. "A
TBS iMPBOYISATOBE. 137
But he is a stone, a queer sort of &IIow. He
hates all women ; never gave a woman a kiss
inhisUfe!"
^* That is impossible !*' said she, and laughed.
I, on the contrary," continued Gennaro,
am of quite a different sort ; I kiss all the
handsome lips that come near me, am the fiuth-
fal attendant of woman, and thus reconcile the
world and her wherever I go ! It is awarded to
me also, and I assert it as my right with every
handsome woman, and I now, of course, require
here my tribute also ! " and, so saying, he took
her hand.
^' I absolve both you and the other gentle-
man," said she ; ^' neither have I any thing to
do with paying tribute. My husband always
does that ! "
^* And where is he?" asked Gennaro.
" Not far off," she replied.
^* Soeh a handsome band I have never seen
in Naples!" said Gennaro, *' what is the price
of a kiss upon it ? "
^' A acudo/' said she.
** And douUe that price upon the lips?" said
Geonaro*
*' That is not to be had/' returned she; ^' that
18 my husband's property!"
And now she poured us out again the en-
138 THB 1MPROVI8ATORE.
livening, strong wine, joked and laughed vill
us; nnd, amid her joking, we discovered tbtt
she was about fifteen, bad been married lbs
ye&T before to a liiindsome young man, nlio,it
this moment, was ii NapW, and was not ex-
pected to return before the morrow. TheMf
girls were her sisters, and on a visit to ber liH
her husband's return. Gennaro prayed tliem
for a bouquet of roses, which they hasteiivi to
gatiier, and for which he promised them t
carlin.
In vain he prayed her for a kiss; said
thousand sweet, flattering things; threw bis
THB IMPROVISATORB. 139
She looked at me.
" He has," continued I, " said only one true
word in all his speeches ; and that is^ that I
have never kissed the lips of any woman. I
have kept my lips pure until I found the most
beautiful ; and now I hope that you will reward
my virtue!"
** He is actually an accomplished tempter!"
said Gennaro. '* He excels me by being so
accustomed to his work."
" You are a bad man with your money,"
said she ; '* and for that you shall see that I
care neither for it nor for a kiss, and so the
poet shall have it!*'
With this, she pressed her hands on my
cheeks, her lips touched mine, and she vanished
behind the house.
When the sun went down, I sat up in my
little chamber in the convent, and looked from
the window over the sea ; it was rosy red, and
threw up long billows on the shore. The fisher-
men pulled up their boats on the sand ; and,
as the darkness increased, the lights became
brighter, the billows were of a sulphur-blue.
Over every thing prevailed infinite stillness;
JO the midst of which I heard a choral song of
fishermen on the shore, with women and child-
140
THE IMPROTIBATORB.
ren. The soprano of tlie children's Toicea min-
gled itself -wiili ihe dei^p bass, iind a sentimGntur
melaueholy filled my soul. A fiillinp; vinr for
a nioiiicnt played in lite heavens, mid then aW
downwnrd behind the vineyards, where tl
lively young woman had kissed me in the day-
time. ! thought of her, how lovfly ehe -w,
and of the blind girl, the image of beauty amid
the ruins of the temple; but AnnuuciBta i^oci
in the hackgrouml, intcllectiinlly and physically
beautiful, and thus donbly beautiful ! My spirit
expanded itself; my soul hurned with lore,
with lunging, with a deep sense of what it hid
lost. The uurc finmc which Anaunciata htd .
THB XMPROTISATOBB. 141
work bridge^ where I had stood during the day.
A figure wrapped in a large cloak stole elose
by me ; 1 saw that it was Gennaro. He went
up the serpentine road to the little white house,
and I followed him. He now softly passed the
indow, within which a light was burning.
Here I took my station, concealed by the de-
pending vine-leaves, and could see distinctly
into the room. There was, exactly on the other
aide of the house, a similar window, and some
high steps led to the side-chamber.
The two little girls, undressed to their night-
clothes, were kneeling with their elder sister,
the mistress of the house, as she really was,
between them, before the table, on which stood
the crucifix and the lamp, and were singing
their evening devotions. It was the Madonna
with two angels, a living altar-piece, as if painted
by Raphael, which- 1 saw before me. Her dark
eyes were cast upwards ; the hair hung in rich
fokts upon her naked shoulders, and the hands
were folded upon the youthfully beautiful
botom.
My pulse beat more quickly; I scarcely ven-
tared to breathe. Now all three arose from
their knees ; she went with the little girls up
the steps into the side-room, closed the door,
and then went into the first room, where she
142
THE IMIROVt6ATORB.
busied herself about herBinall household tiffsiri.
I saw her presently lake out of a drawer a red
pocket-book, turn it about in her hand a manj
times aud smile ; she was just about to open tt,
but shouk her head at that moment, and tlire*
it again into the drawer, as if something bad
surprised her.
A moment afterwards I heard a low tup-
ping upon ibe opposite window. Terrified. lie
looked towards it, and listened. It tapped iigi)ii
and 1 heard some one speak, but could noi
distinguish the words.
" Excellenza!" now exclaimed she aloud;
THB IMPROYISATORB, 143
opened it, to give him the pocket-book. He
snatched at her hand, she let the book fall, and
it remained lying on the window-sill. Gennaro
put his head in; the young wife flew to the
window behind which I stood, and I could now
hear every word which Gennaro said.
" And you will not allow me to kiss your
lovely hand as thanks ; not receive the smallest
reward ; not reach me a single cup of wine ?
I am parched with thirst. There cannot be
any thing wrong in that ! Why not permit me
to come in?"
** No!" said she; ** we have nothing to talk
about at this hour. Take that which you have
forgotten, and let me close the window."
" I will not go," said Gennaro, " before you
give me your hand, before you give me a kiss.
You cheated me out of one to-day, and gave it
to that stupid youth !"
'^ No ! no ! " said she, and yet laughed in the
midst of her anger. "You want to obtain by
force what I would not give freely," said she;
" therefore I shall not will not, do it."
'^ It is the last time," said Gennaro, in a soft
and beseeching tone, " of a certainty the last
time ; and can you refuse only just giving me
your hand? More I do not desire, although
my heart has a thousand things to say to
144 TUB IMFROVIgATOHS.
you! Madonna wJIU it reallv tbat we hunitn
beings love one another like brother ami i*w!
Like a brother I vrtli divide tny money *ith
joa: you can adoru yourself, and he twiecu
handsome ae you are! All yoar friends wSl
envy yon; nobody will know ," And with itiw
words he gave a quick spring, and stood wiilii"
tbe room.
She uttered a loud scream, " Jeeus Mrir
I shook the window violently where I itood;
the gInsBJingled, and, as if driven by an inn-
Bible power, I ftew round to the open wiwJow.
tearing away a support from oba of the vjoe-lre-
THB XMPROriSATORB. 145
I heard her go softly across the floor. The door
of the side-chamber was opened and then closed
again ; I heard her knocking somethings as if
she were making bolts secure.
*' Now she is safe/' thought I, and crept
softly away. I felt myself so well, so wonder-
fully gay at heart. *' Now I have paid for the
kiss which she gave me to-day/' said I to my-
self; '' perhaps she would haye given me yet
another, had she known what a protecting
angel I have been to her!"
I reached the convent exactly as supper was
ready; no one had missed me. Gennaro, how-
ever, did not make his appearance, and Fran-
cesca became uneasy. Fabiani sent messenger
on messenger. At length he came. He had
walked, he said, as far as the mountains, and
had lost himself, but had had the luck to meet
at length with a peasant, who had put him in
the right way.
'*Your coat is, also, quite in tatters," said
Francesca.
V Yes," said Gennaro, taking a biscuit,
'* the missing piece hangs on a thorn-bush ;
I saw it, however! Heaven knows how I
could ever lose my way so! But it was all
the lovely evening, and then the darkness came
VOL. II. H
146
THK IMPltOVISATOMS.
on so quickly, and I tlioii^'lil of sliorteiibg my
wfty, and precisely 1^ tlmt means lost it!"
We laughed at Lit adventure ; 1 kuev it
teller; we drauk lu Ids health; the wine *
excellent ; we became regularly excited. Wlien
we at li'iigth went to our chambers, which were
only divided by u door from each otlier, !
came liefo^ he utidretised into miue, laughed,
and, Inying his hand upon my vhouldvr, praj'w
me not to drcaui loo much shout tlte hnndtome
wonjan that we had seen to-day.
" But 1 had the kiss!" said I, jestingly.
" Oh, yes, that you bad I" said he. langhing,
THB IMPROYIBATORE, 147
book, at the handsoiQe woman's bouse^ that I
night have an excuse for going there in the
evening, for then women are not so strict.
There it is : I have been there, and with climb-
ng over the garden-wall and up among the
lushes I tore my coat."
^' And the handsome woman V* I inquired.
*' Was twice as handsome!" said he, nod-
iing significantly, ^* twice as handsome, and
lot a bit stern ; we were quite good friends,
^hat I know ! She gave you one kiss she gave
me a thousand, and her heart into the bargain.
[ shall dream about my good luck all the night.
Poor Antonio!"
And, so saying, he kissed his hand to m%
and went to his own room.
The morning heaven was oovered as if with
a grey veil, when we left the convent. Our
stout rowers waited for us on the shore, and
again carried us to our boat. Our voyage was
now to Capri. The veil of heaven was rent
asunder into light clouds ; the air became two-
fold high and clear ; not a billow moved ; the
soft curling of the sea was like a watered cloth.
The beautiful Amalfi vanished behind the cliffs ;
Genuaro threw a kiss towards it whilst he said
to me, " There we have plucked roses !"
t46 THE tHPBOVlSATORK.
" You; al a\\ events, (^ot among the thorns'"
thought I, and nodded asseutinglr.
Tlie great, infiuite sea, etretcbingOD loSidlj
and Africa, spread itself before us . To the left
lay the rocky coast of Italy, with its ein^Ut
caves ; before some of these stood little cities,
which seemed as if they had steppeti out of the
caves; in others sat fishermen, and coolicd
their meals and tarred their boats behind the
high surf.
The sea seemed to be a fat, blue oil ; we fot
our handii down into it, and they appeared j
blue as it. The shadow which the boat threw 1
THB IMPROVISATORE. 149
these masses of stone. In storm it must be a
Scylla, with her howling dogs.
The surface of the water slumbered around
the naked stony Cape Minerva, where in old
times the Syrens had their abode. Before us
lay the romantic Capri, where Tiberius had
luxuriated in joy, and looked over the bay to
the coast of Naples. The sail was spread in our
boat; and, borne onward by the wind and the
waves, we approached the island. Now, for
the first time, we remarked the extraordinary
purity and clearness of the water. It was as
wonderfully transparent as if it had been air.
We glided along, every stone, every reed, for
many fathoms below us, being visible. I be-
came dizzy when I looked down, from the
edge of oan U^e^ bt^t] int(/i4Kje 4^
^wfB^ii;^i^^vflrt5|fI^^ ..A ca ,'i..?)*ii ;:''^ '.
. '^ f^ej li^ni ,of : Qftpri, .i^ra^)ijb^
oply fron(i* bqie ,sid^; r Ateuidl it ascejl^i s^^l
perpendicular, walls of' cliff; towards .Naples
they stretch out, amphitheatre-like, with vine-
yards, orange and olive-groves ; upon the shore
stand several cottages of fishermen and a watch-
house; higher up, amid the green gardens,
looks the little city of Anna Capri, into which
a very small draw-bridge and gates conduct
loQ THE IHPKOTISATOBB.
till' stranger. We betook onrselves to the
Miiall inn of Pagani to rest ourselves.
After dinoer we were to ride up on asses to
tlic ruiuB of Tiberius's Villa, but now, howevff,
wc waited for our breakfast, and between tbtt
and ilic following meal Francesca and Fabitni
wisbed to repose themselret, in order to have
streiigib for the afternoon's walk. Gennaro
and I felt no necessity for this. The island did
not appear so lai^e to me, bnt that in a ft*
bour we could row rouod it, and see the loft;
jiortals of rock which, towards the soatb, TW
liieiii selves isolatedly out of the sea.
took a boat and two rowerB ; the mad
THE IMPROVISATORS. 151
ted by the waves, seemed to have a doubly
bright hue ; it was if the rocks bled at every
stroke of the billows.
The open sea now lay to the right of us, to
the left of us lay the island ; deep caves, whose
uppermost openings lay but a little above the
water^ shewed themselves in the clifis, others
were only dimly visible in the surf. Down amid
these abode the Syrens; the blooming Capri,
upon which we had climbed, being only the
roof of their rock-fortress.
** Yes, bad spirits live here," said one of the
rowers, an old man with silver-white hair. " It
may be beautiful down there," said he ; " but
they never let their victims escape, and, if by
any chance one does come back, he has no
longer any understanding for this world !'*
He now shewed us at some distance an open
ing, somewhat larger than the others, but yet
not lai^e enough for our boat to enter, without
a sail, even if we had lain down in it, either
for length or breadth.
"That is the Witches' Cave!"* whispered
* This is the name given by the inhabitants of Capri
to the Blue Grotto, which was only propa*ly explored in
Iddl by two young Germans, Fries and Kopisch, and
since then is become the goal of every traveller who visits
South Italy. Kopisch was bom in Breslau, and is the
152
THE IJIPR0V1SA7OBB.
the younger rower, and pushed out further from
the rocka ; " within, all is gold aud diamoniiit
but any one who goes in there is burned op in
a iiery 6ame ! Santa Lncia, pray for ue!"
" I wish 1 had one of Uie Syrens here in tl
boat!" stiid Cieunaro ; "but she must be beM-
tiful, then all would be right."
" Your luck willi the ladies," said I, laugh-
ing, " would avail you, then, here also !"
" Upon the swelling eea is the right place
for kissing and embracing; that is what tt'
waves are always at ! Ah !" sighed he, "if ^"*
nuthor of a iKautiful novel called " Die Kohlkiipft
C&Diii" in 1837 hia Docms wax nubUilied. .
THE IMPR0VI6AT0RE. 153
had but here the handsome woman from
Amalfi! That was a woman! was not she?
You sipped of the nectar of her lips! Poor
Antonio ! You should have seen her last even-
ing ! She was gracious to me ! "
** Naj, nay/' said I, half indignant at his
unabashed boasting, /'it is not so; I know
better than that ! "
'' How am I to understand that?" asked he,
and looked with much astonishment into my
face.
'* I saw it myself/' continued I ; *' chance led
me there ; I doubt not of your great good for-
tune in other cases; but this time you only
wish to joke with me."
He looked at me in silence.
*' * I will not go/ " said I, laughing, and imi-
tating Gennaro, '' ' before you give me the kiss
which you cheated me out of, and gave it to
that foolish youth!'"
** Signore ! you have listened to me !" said he,
gravely, and I saw that his countenance became
quite pale : " How dare you affront me ? You
shall fight with me, or I despise you ! "
This was an effect which I did not anticipate
that my remarks would have produced.
^* Gennaro, this is not your serious mean-
ing," exclaimed I, and took his hand ; he
h2
Tlicy bent to their oa
approached the lofty arcl
swelliog water; but ang
tated my mind ; I looki
l&shed the water with his
" Una tromba!" exclai
the seamen ; and acrooB t
Derra came floatiag a c
in an oblique direction I
heaven, the water boilini
speed they took down thi
" Where are you Bb
Gennaro.
" Back again, back agi
rower.
" Around the whole
quired I.
" Close under land ;
wall ; the water-spout ta!
out."
THE IMPR0VI8AT0RE. 155
" Eternal God! '* stammered I, for the black
cloud-pillar came with the speed of the wind
across the water, as if it would sweep along
the rocky wall of Capri, in the neighbourhood
of which we were, and, if it came, it would
either whirl us up with it, or force us down
into the deep close by the perpendicular rocky
coast. I seized upon the oar with the old
man, and Gennaro assisted the younger ; but
we already heard the winds howling, and the
waters boiled before the feet of the water-spout,
which drove us, as it were, before it.
*' Santa Lucia, save us!" cried both the
seamen, flinging down their oars, and falling
.on their knees.
** Snatch hold on the oar," cried Gennaro
to me, but looked towards heaven pale as death.
Then rushed the tempest over our heads ;
and to the left, not far from us, went the dark
night over the waves, which lifted themselves
up in the air, and then struck white with foam
upon the boat. The atmosphere pressed hea-
vily upon us as if it would force the blood out
of the eyes ; it became night ; the night of
death. I was conscious but of one thing, and
that was, that the sea lay upon me; that I,
that we all, were the prey of the sea, of death ;
and ftirther I was conscious of nothing.
156 THE 1MPBOV16AT0RE.
More terrible liinii the miglit of tbe vol-
cano ; overpowering as the sepsration from
Annuiiciata, stiuids tfae sight before me nhich
met my eyes, when they again opened to coo-
sciousness. Fur below aie, above we, oA
around me, was blue ether. 1 moved iiiyuiD,
and, like electric]sparks of fire, millions of &!!
ing stars gliltered around me. I was carrii-d
along by the current of air, I was cerlaiiiij
dead, 1 thooglit, and now was floated through
ethereal space up lo the heaven of God, yel*
heavy weight lay on my head, and thai WU
my earthly sin, which bowed nic down ; the
current of air passed over ray head, and it vu
THE iMi'rvO\ iSAiOKu. J.j7
ether which was lighted up around me. Above
me vaulted itself the heavens with singular ball-
shaped clouds, blue as itself; all was at rest,
infinitely quiet. I felt, however, an icy cold-
ness through my whole being ; I slowly raised
my hand. My clothing was of blue fire ; my
bands shone like silver, and yet I felt that they
were my bodily hands. My mind constrained
itself to action ; did I belong to death or to
life? I extended my hand down into the
strangely shining air below me ; it was water
into which I thrust it, blue, like burning spirit,
but cold as the sea. Close beside me stood a
column, unshapely and tall, of a sparkling
blue, and like the water-spout upon the sea,
only of a smaller size. Was it my terror or
iny remembrance which presented to me this
image? After some moments I ventured to
touch it ; it was as hard as stone, and as cold
as it also ; I stretched out my hands into the
half'dark space behind me, and felt only hard,
smooth wall, but dark-blue, as the night-
heavens.
Where was I ? Was that below me, which
I had taken for air, a shining sea, which
burned of a sulphurous blue, but without beat ;
was the illumined space around me this, or
was it light-diffusing walls of rock, and arches
15S TnS IHPBOrlSATORE.
iiigli above tne ? Was it the lode of datli.
the cell of tlie grave for my imniortal t[jiril'
An GRi-tlily liabitation it certainly wu noi.
Every object was illumined in every shade if
liluc ; I myself was ctiwrHjipod in a f\oTy which
gave out Mghu
Close beside lue vras ati iaimfTiMi flight of
steps which seemed to he made of vatt op-
phires, every 9tej being: gigantic block flf
tills sparkling stone ; 1 ascended theie, bnt t
wall of rock forbade all further advance. er-
liapB I was miwortby to approach any nemr
to heaven. I had left ttie world, banleoel
with the wratli of a human Imng. When
THE IMPROVISATORS. 169
pure as ether, over the mirror of the water,
and, while I yet looked at it, I saw it darken
itself like the moon, a black object shewed
itself, and a little boat glided onward over the
burning blue water. It was as if it had as-
cended out of the deep, and then floated upon
its surface ; an old man slowly rowed it for-
trikrdy and the water shone red as crimson at
every stroke of his oars. In the oth^r part of
the boat sat also a human figure, a girl, as I
soon could see. Silent, immovable as images
of stone^ they sat, excepting that the old man
Worked the oars. A strangely deep sigh
reached my ear, it seemed to me that I recog-
nised the sound. They rowed round in a circle,
and approached the place where I stood. The
old man laid his oars in the boat; the girl
raised her hand on high, and exclaimed in a
voice of deep suffering, " Mother of God for-
sake me not! Here am I indeed, as thou hast
said."
" Lara!" I cried aloud.
' It was she ; 1 knew the voice. I recognised
the form ; it was Lara, the blind girl, from the
ruined temple in Peestum.
" Give me my eyesight ! Let me behold
God's beautiful world!" said she.
It was as if the dead had spoken ; my very
sank back into the boat, i
like fire-drops around it.
For a moment the old
her, and then came out t
glance rested upon me;
sign of the cross in the,
copper vessel, which he ]
then entered himself. 1
after him. His singalarlj
immovably opoa me ; fat
oars, and we floated o:
star. A cold current of i
I bent myself over La
ing of rock now shut us
ment, and then the sea
infinite expanse, lay hek
reared itself up to hei
cliK. It was a little,
which we had come ; do
flat, overgrown with scat
red flowers. The new m
clearly.
THE IMPROVISATOR E. 161
The wbole were spirits; no dream images of
nay fancy.
'* Give me the herbs! " said she, and stretched
out her hand. I felt that I must obey the voice
of the spirit. I saw the red flowers growing
npon the green bushes on the low fiat under
the high cliffs. . I stepped out of the boat, ga-
thered the flowers, which had a very peculiar
smell ; I offered them to her. A weariness, as
of death, went through my limbs, and I sank
down on my knee, but not without perceiving
that the old man made the sign of the cross,
took from me the flowers, and then lifted Lara
into a large boat which lay just by ; the lesser
one remained fastened to the shore. The sail
was spread, and they sailed away over the sea.
I stretched my hands after them, but death
lay as heavily on my heart as if it were about
to break.
" He lives!" were the first words which I
again heard. I opened my eyes, and saw Fa-
biani and Francesca, who stood with yet a
thi^-d person, a stranger, beside me ; he held
my hand, and looked gravely and thoughfully
into my face.
I was lying in a large, handsome room ; it
was day. Where was 1 ? Fever burned in my
blood, and only slowly and by degrees I became
THE 1MPROY18ATORE. 163
to steer there towards the little green flat. Ah
he approached the place, he saw, at no great
distance, a human being lying outstretched;
it was myself. I lay like a corpse among the
green bushes : my dress was half dried by the
winds ; they took me into the boat ; he covered
me with his cloak, rubbed my hands and my
breast) and perceived that I breathed faintly.
They made for land, and, under the care of the
physician, I was again among the number of
the living. Crennaro and the two seamen were
nowhere to be found.
They made me tell them all that I could re-
member, and I told them of the singularly
beaming cave in which I had awoke, of the
boat with the old fisherman and the blind girl,
and they said it was my imagination, a feverish
dream in the night air ; even I myself felt as if
I ought to think so, and yet I could not, it
stood all 80 livingly before my soul.
"Was he then found by the Witch's Cave?"
inquired the physician, and shook his head.
" You do not, then, believe that this place
has a more potent influence than any other?"
asked Fabiani.
" Nature is a chain of riddles," said the phy-
sician ; " we have only found out the easiest."
It became day in my soul. The Witch's
1G4 THE IMP80TIBAT0BK.
Cave, tliat world of which oiir geaaien had
spoken, where atl was gleaming fire and beim!
Had the sea, then, borne me in there ^ In-
membei-ed the narrow opening through whid
I had sailed out of it. Was it reality, or i
dream? Had 1 looked into a spiritual world!
The mercy of the Madonna had saved and pn'
tecled me. My thoughts dreamed themfelra
back again into tlie beamingly beautiful ill
where my protecting angel was called Lata.
In truth, the whole was no dream. I hd
seen that which not until some years afterworfi
had been discovered, and now is the nuKl
beautiful object in Capri, nay, in Italy, the
CHAPTER VIII.
JOURNEY HOME.
Fbancbsca and Fabiani remained yet two
lays in Capri , that we might be able to make
the journey back to Naples together. If I had
formerly been many times wounded by their
mode of speaking to me, and their treatment
of me, 1 now received so much affection from
Ihem^ and they had shewed so much solicitude
about me, that I clung to them with my whole
beart.
*' Thou must go with us to Rome/' they said,
** that is the most rational and the best thing
for thee."
My singular deliverance, the wonderful ap-
pearance in the cave, operated greatly on my
excited state of mind. I felt myself so wholly
m the hand of the invisible guide who lovingly
directs all for the best, that I now regarded all
IGC THE IMPROVISATORS.
c)iaiiccs as in the ruling of Provideoce, and
was resigned; and, therefore, when Fnmcesca
kiiiilly pressed my band, and asked me whe-
tliei- I had a. desire to live in Naples with Ber-
unrdo, I assui'ed her that I must and would go
to R(me.
" We sliould have shed a many tears for
tlice, Antonio," said Francesca, and pressed
my hand; "thou art our good child. Mi-
duiina has held her protecting hand om
t)iee,"
" Excellenza shall know," said Fabiiiu,
" tliat the Antonio with whom he was upy
THB IMPROVISATOBB, 167
When we were seated in the boat, with the
physician in company, and I saw the clear^
transparent water, all the recollections of the
past crowded themselves upon my soul, and I
thought how near I had been to death, and
how wonderfully I had been saved. I felt that
life was still so beautiful, and tears rushed to
my eyjes. AH my three companions occupied
themselves alone with me, nay, Francesca her-
self talked of my beautiful talent called me a
poet ; and when the physician heard that it was
I who had improvised, he told what delight I
liad given to all his friends, and how transported
th^ had been with me.
The wind was in our favour, and instead of
sailing direct to Sorrento, as had at first beeu
determined, and of going from thence over land
to Pfaples, we now sailed directly up to the
capital. In my lodging I found three letters,
one firom Federigo; he had again set off to
Ischia, and would not return for three days ;
thin distressed me, for thus I should not be ablei
to bid him farewell, because our departure was
fixed for the noon of the following day. The
second letter, the waiter told me, had been
brought the morning after I had set out; I
opened it, and read :
*^ A faithful heart, which intends honour^
168 THE lUPSOTISATOEtB.
ably and kindly towards you, expects you lh
evening," Then was given the house and the
number, but no name, only the words, " Yoor
old friend."
The third letter was from the same baniJ,
and contained:
" Come, Antonio ! The terror of the last un-
fortunate moment of our paning is now well
over. Come quickly! regnrd it as a misan-
derstanding. All may be right ; only delay not
a moment in coming ! "The Kime signatuK a
before.
That these were from Santa was to me saF-
THB IMPROVISATORE. 169
cian, and I drove to his house with Fabiani.
His was a charmiog and friendly home: his
eldest sister, an unmarried lady, kept his
house. There was a something so affectionate,
something so truthful, about her, that I was
immediately taken with her. I could not help
thinking of old Domenica, only that she was
accomplished, was possessed of talents and
higher perfections.
The next morning, the last which I was to
gpend in Naples, my eye dwelt, with a melan-
choly sentiment, upon Vesuvius, which I now
saw for the last time ; but thick clouds enve-
loped the top of the mountain, which seemed
as if it would not say to me farewell.
The sea was perfectly tranquil. I thought
upon my dream-pictures Lara in the glitter-
ing grotto and soon would all my whole resi-
dence here in Naples be like a dream ! I took
up the paper Diario di Napoli^ which the
waiter brought in : I saw my own name in it,
and a critique on my first appearance. Full of
curiosity, I read it : my rich fancy and my
beautiful versification were in particular most
highly praised. It is said that I seemed to be
of the school of Pangetti, only that I had a
little too much followed my master. I knew
nothing at all about this Pangetti, that was
VOL. II. I
1 70 THE lUPBOVIBATORE.
cei'tairi ; and, therefore, could not have formed
myscli' upon this model Nature and my ovn
t'eelinirs had alone been my guides. But Ibe
greatest number of critics are bo little original
themselves, that they believe, that all whom
they jiass judgment upon must hare some
model to copy. The public had awarded me a
greater applause than this ; although the critic
said that in time I should become a master, and
that I was now already possessed ofuncommiHi
tnletit.rich imagination, feeling, and inspiratiaii.
1 loldcd together the paper, and resolved to keep
it : it would some time be a token to me, thit
THB IMPROYISATORE. 171
I thought upon Federigo. At the frontiers^
where our passports were given up for inspec*
tion, some goats yet stood in the cave of the
rock as he had painted them; but the little
boy I saw not. We passed the night at Ter-
racina.
The next morning, the atmosphere was in-
finitely clear. I said my farewell to the sea,
which had pressed me in its arms, had lulled
me into the most beautiful dream, and had
shown me Lara, my image of beauty. In the
far distance I yet perceived, on the clear hori-
zon, Vesuvius, with its pale blue pillar of
smoke : the whole was as if breathed in air
upon the brilliant firmament.
" Farewell ! farewell ! away to Rome, where
stands my grave !" sighed I ; and the carriage
bowled us away, over the green marshes, to
Velletri. I greeted the mountains where I
had gone with Fulvia: I saw again Genzano,
drove over the very spot where my mother had
been killed ; where 1, as a child, had lost my
aU in this world. And here I now came,
like an educated gentleman : beggars called
me Excellenza, as I looked out into the street*
Was I now really happier than I had been at
that former time ?
We drove through Albano, the Campagna
172 THE IKPBOTISATOBS.
lay before us. We saw the tomb of Asciniiis,
witli it9 thick ivy, by tbe wayside; farther on,
tliu monuments, the long aqoednct, and no*
Rome, with the cupola of St, Peter's.
" A cbeerfiil countenance, Antonio," mi
Fubiani, as we rolled in at the Porta San Gio-
vanni. The Lateran Choreb, the tall Obeliik,
tlic Coliseum, and Trajan's Square, all told
me that 1 was at home, iike a dream of tlie
night, and yet like a whole year of my life,
Hoated before me the drcomstances of the Utt
fen- iveeks. How dull and dead was erer;
1 comparison with Naples ! The
THE IMPROVISATORS.
173
appropriated to me. But I had not yet seen
Excellenza. We were now summoned to
table. I bowed deeply before him.
*' Antonio can sit between me and Fran-
cesca/' were the first words which I heard him
say.
The conversation was easy and natural.
Every moment I expected that a bitter remark
would be aimed at me ; but not a word, not the
least reference, was made to my having been
away, or to Excellenza having been displeased
with me, as his letter had said.
This gentleness affected me. ^I doubly prized
the affection which met me thus ; and yet there
were times when my pride felt itself wounded,
because^-I had met with no reproof.
CHAPTER IX.
EDUCATION THE VODKG ABBBSS.
Tiii: Palazzo Boighese was nowm; borne. 1
with much more niilitness ana
THE IMPR0VI8AT0RE. 175
Like a mighty sea, where billow is knit to
billow, lies an interval of six years before me.
I had swum over it : God be praised ! Thou
who hast followed me through my life's adven-
tures, fly rapidly after. The impression of the
whole I will give thee in a few touches. It
was the combat of my spiritual education ; the
journeyman treated as an apprentice, before
he could come forth as a master.
I was considered as an excellent young man
of talent, out of whom something might be
made; and, therefore, every one took upon
himself my education. My dependence per-
mitted it to those with whom I stood connected ;
my good nature permitted it to all the rest.
Livingly and deeply did I feel the bitterness of
my position, and yet I endured it. That was an
education.
Excellenza lamented over my want of the
fundamental principles of knowledge: it mat-
tered not how much soever I might read : it
was nothing but the sweet honey, which was to
serve for my trade, which I sucked out of
books. The friends of the house, as well as of
my patrons, kept comparing me with the ideal
in their own minds, and thus I could not do
other than fall short. The mathematician said
that I had too much imagination, and too little
1 76 THE IMPB0T18ATOBB.
ref!tct!cD : the pedant, that t bad not snffi-
(.'k-iitly occupied myself with the Latio lan-
guag.. Tlie politician always asked me, in
T::e social circle, about the political nem, in
wliicb I was not at home, and iQqaired,onljio
f]itw niy want of knowledge. A voang noUe-
man, iiho only lived for bis bone, lameotnl
over my small experience in borseflesb, ud
a:iiied with Others in a Miterere orer me, be
caii:e 1 had more interest in myself than in hii
hor^e. A noble lady-friend of the bouse, iriio,
on accotmt of ber rank and great self-fofi-
cienoy, had gained the reputation of gnd
nd critical aoumeji. but who W
THE IMPROYISATORE. 177
the benefit of her instruction. Every one cast
his poison-drop upon my heart : I felt that it
must either bleed, or become callous.
The beautiful and the noble in every thing
seized upon and attracted me. In tranquil
moments I often thought on my educators, and
it seemed to me that they existed in the whole
of nature, and the life of the world for which
my thoughts and my soul only existed as active
artisans. The world even seemed to me a
beautiful girl, whose form, mind, and dress,
had attracted my whole attention; but the
shoemaker said, ** Look only at her shoes ;
they are quite preferable ; they are the princi-
pal thing!" The dressmaker exclaimed, ** No,
the dress; see, what a cut! that, above all,
must occupy you; go into the colour, the
hems, study the very principles of it ! " " No,"
cries the hair-dresser, ** you must analyse this
plait ; you must devote yourself to it ! " ** The
speech is of much more importance!" ex-
claims the language-master. '^ No, the car-
riage!" says the dancing-master. ^* Ah, good
Heavens!" I sigh, ^'it is the whole together
which attracts me. I see only the beautiful in
every thing ; but I cannot become a dressmaker
or a shoemaker just for your pleasure. My
business is to exalt the beauty of the whole.
i2
enough for Iiis poetical
(teridinglv.
No beast is, howeve
Had I been rich and in(
of everjr thing would sooi
one of thein were more
gronnded, and more ratii
to smile obli^ngly wbe
bowed to those whom I
listened attentively to
fools. Dissimulation, I:
were the fruit of the ed
stances and men afiFbrde
aln-ays 10 my faults. V
at all intellectual, no g(
was I myself who mua
must make these arailin
thoughts upon my own u
upbraided me for thinkii
The politician called i
would not occupy jnyse]
with hia calling. A you
THE IMPROVISATORE. 179
stranger might see that it was the nobleman
who taught the shepherd boy, the poor lad, who
must be doubly grateful to him in that he con-
descended to instruct him. He who interested
himself for the beautiful horse, and for that and
that alone, said that I was the very vainest of
men because I had no eye for his steed. But
were not they all egotists ? Or had they right ?
Perhaps! I was a poor child for whom they
bad done a great deal. But, if my name had
no nobility attached to it, my soul had, and
inexpressibly deeply did it feel every humi-
liation*
1 who, With my whole soul^ had clung to
mankind, was now changed, like Lot's wife^
into a pillar of salt. This gave rise to defiance
in my soul. There were moments when my
spiritual consciousness raised itself up in its
fetters, and became a devil of high-mindedness,
which looked down upon the folly of my pru-
dent teachers, and, full of vanity, whispered
into my ear, " Thy name will live and be
remembered, when all theirs are forgotten, or
are only remembered through thee, as being
connected with thee, as the refuse and the bitter
drops which fell into thy life's cup!"
At such moments I thought on Tasso, on the
in the manner in which
must be so, or else it mi
and encouragement woul
thoughts pure, my soul 1
friendly emile and word
melted one of the ice-i
there fell more poison-di
I was no longer so go
nerty, and yet I was
remarkably exceUent y
studied books, nature, t
and yet they said, he
thing.
This education lastei
seven, I might say, but 1
the sixth year there occui
the waves of my life's 8
there were certainly mai
might have been comra
were of more marked
whif.h T liaua Koan ans
THE IMPROYISATORE. 181
poison as every man of talent, not possessed of
either wealth or rank, knows as well as the
pulsations of his own heart.
I was an abb^, had a sort of name in Rome
as improvisatore, because I had improvised
and read poems aloud in the Academia
Tiberina, and had always received the most
decided applause; but Francesca was right
when she said that they clapped every thing
which any body read here. Habbas Dahdah
stood as one of the first in the Academy that
is to say, he talked and wrote more than any
one else ; all his fellow-professors said tltat he
was too one-sided, ill-tempered, and unjust,
and yet they endured him among them, and so
he wrote and wrote on.
He had gone, hesaid, through my water-colour
pieces, as he called my poems, but he could not
now discover one trace of the talent which he
had at one time, when in the school I bowed
myself before his opinion, found in me; it had
been strangled in the birth, he said, and my
friends ought to prevent any of my poems,
which were only poetical misconceptions, from
seeing the light. The misfortune was, he said,
that great geniuses had written in their youth-
ful years, and thus it had been with me.
I never heard any thing of Annunciata ; she
were as a beautiiiii, para
AVlien tlie sirocco blew,
the mild breezes at Pa^E
brilliant grotto in whi
When I stood like a
mele and female educati
lections of the plaudits
and in the great theatrt
I stood anohserved in a
Santa, who stretched fot
and sighed, "Kill me,
They were six long, int
now six-and-twenty jeai
Flaminia, the young
her, the daughter of F
who already had been co
by the holy father as the
not seen since I had dan
and drawn for her mer
been educated in a ft
Ouattri Fontane. from n
THE IMPROYISATORB. 183
a lady, was permitted to visit her. She was,
they said, grown quite a beautiful young woman,
and the pious sisters had brought her mind to
the same state of perfection. According to old
custom, the young abbess was now to return
home to her parents for some months, to enjoy
all the pleasure of the world, and all its joy,
before she said for ever farewell to it. She
could even then, it was said, choose between
the noisy world and the quiet convent, but as,
from the child's play with the dolls dressed as
nuns, so through her whole education in the con-
vent, every thing had been done with the de-
sign of riveting her soul and her thoughts to
her destined life.
Often when I went through Quattri Fontane,
where the convent was situated, I thought of
the friendly child which I had danced upon my
arm, and how changed she must be, and how
quietly she lived behind the narrow wall. Once
only had I been to the convent church, and had
heard the nuns singing between the grating.
Was the little abbess seated among them?
thought I, but ventured not to inquire whether
the boarders also took part in the singing, and
the church music. There was one voice which
sounded so high and melancholy above the
others, and which had a great resemblance to
184
TBE IUPR0TI3AT0RB.
Annuiiciala's ; I seemed again to hear lier, tnd
all ilie remembrances from that gone time
seeniol to awaken agwn in my soul.
" Next Monday oar little alibesB come* to
us,"' said Excellenza. I longed inexpresnblj
tu see her. She seemed to me, like myielff to
be like a captive bird, whom they let otit of
the cage with a string about its leg, that it
niiglit enjoy freedom in God's nature."
I siaw her for the first time again at the
dinner- table. She was, as they had told me,
very much grown, somewhat pale, and, at the
firt nioijient, no one would have said that ibe
THE IMPROVISATORE. 185
that time, bad produced great eifect in many
circles in the city. But no one laughed at
them excepting the young abbess ; the others
only faintly smiled, said that it was poor wit,
and that it was not worth repeating. I a^sured^
them that, in almost every other place in Rome,
people found a deal to laugh at in them.
** It is but a mere play upon words," said
Francesca. ** How can any one find pleasure
in such superficial wit ? What mere nothings
can occupy a human brain ! '*
I occupied myself very little, in truth, with
such things. But I had wished to contribute
my part to the general entertainment, and that
which I had related appeared to me very
amusing, and exactly calculated for the pur-
pose. I became silent and constrained.
Many strangers were there in the evening,
and I kept myself prudently in the back-
ground. The great circle had gathered around
the excellent Perini. He was of my age, but a
nobleman, lively, and, in fact, very entertain-
ing; 'and was possessed of all possible com-
pany talents. People knew that he was
amusing and witty, and discovered that every
thing which he said was so. I stood somewhat
behind, and heard how they were all laughing,
especially Excellenza. I approached nearer.
18G TRB IHFROTISATOBE.
It waii precisely that very same play of words
which I to-day had so unfortanately brought
forward for the first time that Perini no*
related. He neither took from it nor added to
it, but gave the very same words with tbe
vory same mien that I had done, and they all
laughed !
" It is most comic," cried Excelleoa, ud
clapped his hands ; " most comic, is it not?"
faid lie, to the young abbess, who stood by bis
side and laughed.
" Yes ; BO it seemed to me at dinner when
Antonio told it to us!" returned she. There
THE IMPROVISATORS. 187
pride. That was occasioned, certainly, by my
low birth, by ray early bringing up, by my
dependence, and the unfortunate relationship
of benefits received, in which I was placed to
those around me. The thought was for ever
recurring to my mind how much I was in-
debted to my circumstances, and that thought
bound my tongue to the resolves of my pride.
It was assuredly noble ; but, at the same time,
it was weakness.
Had I stood in an entirely independent
position, things could not have come to the
state in which they were. Every one acknow-
ledged my sense of duty and my firm con-
scientiousness ; and yet, they said, a genius is
not capable of grave business. Those who were
the most polite to me said, that I was pos-
sessed of too much spirituality for it. If they
meant what they said, how ill they judged
of a man of mind ! I might have perished of
hunger, it was said, had it not been for Excel-
lenza; how much gratitude, therefore, didfl
not owe him?
About this time I had just finished ajgreat
poem " David," into which I had breathed
my whole soul. Day after day, through the
last year, spite of the eternal educating, the
recollections of my flight to Naples, my ad-
Notliing appeared to i
or of evej-y-day occu
even, and the injustice
was poetry. My heart
jtself forth, and in " D
which answered to i
livingly the excellence
and,my soul was gratit
the truth, that 1 never e
strophe which appean
turning myself with ch
eternal God, from whoi
gift, a grace which he
soul ! My poem made n
with a pious mind evei
to be said unreasonaUj
thought, when they hei
what an injustice ihey
hearts will warm towai
love !
M-
THB IMPROYISATORB. 189
unpolluted image of beauty knowu only to God
himself. I gladdened myself with the thought
of the day when I should read it in the
AcademiaTiberina. I resolved that nobody in
the house should in the meantime know of it.
One day, however, one of the first after the
young abbess was come home, Francesca and
Fabiani were so gentle and kind to me, that I
felt as if I could have no secrets with them. I
told them, therefore, of my poem, and they
said, *^ But we ought first of all to hear it.*'
I was willing that they should, although not
without a kind of throbbing of heart, an extra-
ordinary anxiety. In the evening, just as I
was about to read it, who should make his
appearance but Habbas Dahdah.
Francesca besought him to remain, and to
honour my poem by hearing it read. Nothing
could have been more repugnant to me. I
knew his bitterness, ill-humour, and bad-
blood ; nor were the others particularly pre-
possessed in my favour. Nevertheless, the
consciousness of the excellence of my work
gave me a sort of courage. The young abbess
looked happy ; she delighted herself with the
thoughts of hearing my '* David." When I
first stepped forward in San Carlo, my heart
did not beat more violently than now, as I sat
190 TOE IMPnOVlSATOBB.
before these people. This poem, 1 tbonght,
must entirely change their judgiuent of iw
their mode of trentingr me. It was a sort of
spiritual operation by wliicli ! lcstrl lo
influence them, aud therefore [ trembled.
A natural feeling within me had lefl ineonij'
to describe that which I knew. David's Uttf-
herd life, with which my poem opened, m
borrowed from my childhood's recoUectioos is
the hut of Domenica.
" But that is octuaJly yourself," cried Frw-
cescA ; "yourself out in the Campagna."
"Yes; that one can very well see," said
TflE IMPROVISATORE. 191
fall of warm inspiration, and I had expected
attention and rapture, they seemed indifferent,
and made only cold and every-day remarks.
I broke off at the conclusion of the second
canto ; it was impossible for me to read any
more. My poem, which had seemed to me so
beautiful and so spiritual, now lay like a de-
formed doll^ a puppet with glass eyes and
twisted features ; it was as if they had breathed
poison over my image of beauty.
'' But David does not kill the Philistines ! **
said Habbas Dahdah. With this exception,
they said that there were some very pretty
things in the poem ; that what related to child-
hood and to sentiment 1 could express very
nicely.
I stood silent, and bowed, like a criminal for
a gracious sentence.
" The Uoratian rule," whispered Habbas
Dahdah, pressing my hand very kindly and
-calling me *^ poet." Some minutes, however,
afterwards, when I had withdrawn, greatly
depressed into a corner, I heard him say to
Fabiani that my work was nothing at all but
desperate bungliugly put- together stuff!
They had mistaken both it and me, but my
soul could not bear it. I went out into the
great saloon adjoining where a fire was bum*
made.
That wliicli 1 had lovei
lips, into which I hod I
living thoughts, I cast fn
I saw my poem kindle up
"Aotonio!" cried the
behind me, and snatched
borniag leaves ; her foot
moTement, and she fell
It was a fearful sight ; t
I sprang forward to her i
the poem was all in a b]
came rushing into the root
" Jesus Maria !" exclaii
The young abbess lay p
arms : she raised her head
her mother,
" My foot slipped ; I hi
hand a little ; if it had not
would bave been a great d
THE IMPROVISATORE. 193
the house. They had not noticed that I had
thrown my poem into the fire. I expected
that they would afterwards inquire about it,
but, as I did not speak of this, neither was it
spoken of by any one, by no one at all ? Yes
by one, by Flaminia, the young abbe ss !
In her I saw the good angel of the house ;
through her gentleness, her sisterly disposition,
after some time, my whole childlike confidence
returned ; I was as if bound to her.
It was more than fourteen days before her
hand was healed. The wound burned, but it
burned also in my heart.
** Flaminia, I am guilty of the whole !" said
I one day as I sat alone with her; ^* for my
sake you have sufiered this pain."
" Antonio," said she, " for Heaven's sake be
silent ! Let no creature hear a word of this ;
you do yourself an injustice, my foot slipped,
it might have been much more unfortunate
had not you been there. I owe thanks to you
for it, and that my father and mother feel
also; they are much attached to you, Antonio,
more so than you think."
" I owe every thing to them," I said ;
* every day lays me under a fresh obligation."
^* Do not speak of that," said she, with in-
VOL. II. K
you yourseir she pause
she, " how could you bt
that beautiful poem?"
*' It was not worth any
" I ought long before U
the flames."
Flaminia shook her I
wicked world !" said she
much better there amoi
quiet, friendly convent."
" Yes," exclaimed I ;
like yoQ am I not ; my h{
brance rather the bitter
freshing draughts of bem
extended to me."
" In my beloved convex
than it is here, thoagh
much," she often would
together alone. My who
tQwards her ; for I felt thi
TfiB IMPROVISATORB. 195
delicacy towards me, a greater gentleness in
word and in looks ; and I fancied that this was
the effect of Flaminia's influence.
She seemed to have such great pleasure in
talking to me about the things which occupied
me most, poetry, the glorious. Godlike poetry.
I told her a great deal about the great masters,
and often inspiration ascended into my soul,
and my lips became eloquent, as s\\e sat there
before me with folded hands, and looked into
my face like the angel of Innocence.
*' And yet, how happy you are, Antonio !*'
said she, *^ more happy than thousands ! And,
nevertheless, it seems to me that it must be an
anxious thing to belong to the world in the
same degree as you, and every poet must ! How
very much good cannot one word of yours pro-
duce, and yet how much evil likewise ! "
She expressed her astonishment that poets
for ever sung of human struggles and troubles;
to her it seemed that the prophet of God, as
the poet is, should only sing of the eternal
God and of the joy of heaven.
** But the poet sings of God in His crea-
tures!" replied I; '*he glorifies Him in that
which He has created for His glory."
^' I do not understand it," said Flaminia; ^' I
feel clearly, however, that which I mean to
world." "" ""
^'o "I'en innuii
Pe,, h ^
""i I ei,pla,ej ,,
"peraiion as cl| ,
" The thonghl.,
' undereland very
I"' K-1, .h.t He,
.'"O" that, bul He
' wbieb Hi, ee
"II Mde,ad K
Have joa ,
;;( ,eed ,
Pl.orIejed.fcie
" oOen, .-ten ,
'.OBec,rc,Jee
" Idea ,bi
'"''. .ken and Here
paper; ,.^.rt';
THE IMPROVISATORS. 197
reininiscencesy cradle-songs from another world,
which awake in my soul, and which I am com-
pelled to repeat."
" How often have I felt the same kind of
thing!" said Flaminia, "but never was able
to express it. That strange longing, which
often took hold upon me, without my knowing
wherefore ! To me it seemed, therefore, so
often, that I was not at home here in this wild
world. The whole seemed to me a great and
strange dream ; and this was the reason why
I longed so again for my convent for my
little cell ! I know not how it is, Antonio, but
there I used so often to see in my dreams my
bridegroom Jesus and the Holy Virgin, now
they present themselves more seldom : I dream
now so much about worldly pomp and joy,
about so much that is wicked. I am certainly
no longer so good as I was among the sisters !
Why should I have been kept from them so
long ? Do you know, Antonio ; I will confess
to you, I am no longer innocent, I would too
gladly adorn my person ; and it gives me so
much pleasure when they say that I am lovely !
In the convent they told me that it was only
the children of sin who thought in this way."
'' Oh that my thoughts were as innocent as
198 TOE IMPBOVIBATORB.
jours t" said I, bowing myself before her, and
kissing her hand.
She then told me that she remembered lion
I had danced her on my arm when she vat
little, and had drawn pictures for her.
" And whicli you lore in pieces after you hwi
looked at them," said I.
"That was hateful of me !" said Ebe ; "bnl
you are not angry with me for it ? "
" 1 have seen my heart's best pictures torn
in pieces since then," aaid I ; " and yet I *8a
not angry with those who did it."
She stroked oie affection ately on the cheek.
THE IMPROVISATORE. 199
the mountains, with their dark olive-groves,
brought again life's pictures from Naples back
to my soul.
Frequently, and with great delight, Flaminia
rode, with her maid, upon asses, through the
mountain valley of Tivoli ; and I was permitted
to attend them. Flaminia had much taste for
the picturesque beauty of nature, and 1 there-
fore attempted to make sketches of the rich
neighbourhood; the boundless Campagna,
when the cupola of St. Peter's raised itself
upon the horizon ; the fertile sides of the
mountains, with their thick olive-groves and
vineyards; even Tivoli itself, which lay aloft
on the cliffs, below which waterfall upon water-
fidl fell foaming into the abyss.
'* It looks," said Flaminia, '^ as if the whole
city stood upon loose pieces of rock, which the
water would soon tear down. Up above those,
in the street, one never dreams about it, but
goes with a light step above an open grave ! "
* So, indeed, do we always ! " replied I ; "it
is well and happy for us, that it is concealed
from our eyes. The foaming waterfalls, which
we see hurled down here, have in them some*
thing disturbing, but how much more terrible
must it be in Naples, where fire is thrown up
like water here!"
200 THE IHPBOTIBATOBB.
I then told her about Vesaviua, of my ascent
to it ; told her about Herculaneum and Voof
peii, and she drank in every word of my lips.
When we were at home again, she be^ed me
to tell her more about all the glorious things on
the other side of the Marehes.
The sea she could not rightly anderstand,
for she had only seen it from th top of the
mountains, like a silver riband on the horizon.
I told her that it was, like God's heaven,
sjiread out upon the earth, and she folded her
hunds, and said ** God has made the world
iciliiiilely beautiful !"
THB IHPROYISATORB; 20)
" How glorious! "exclaimed Flaminia; "now
improvise for me also, Antonio!'* said she,
*' now sing to me a poem about what you
see ! "
I thought upon my heart's dream, which
had all been shivered like the water-stream
here, and I obeyed her, and sang. Sang how
life burst forth like the stream, but yet every
drop of it did not drink in the sunbeam, it was
only over the whole, over a whole human race,
that the glory of beauty diffused itself.
" No! any thing sorrowful I will not hear!'*
said Flaminia ; ^* you shall not sing me any
thing if you do not like to do it. I do not
know how it is, Antonio, but I do not consider
you like the other gentlemen whom I know !
I can say any thing to you ! You seem to me
almost like my father and my mother!"
I possessed also her confidence as she did
mine, there was so much which agitated my
soul, that I longed for sympathy. One evening
I related to her much of my childhood's life,
of my ramble in the Catacombs, of the flower-
feast in Genzano, and of my mother's death,
when the horses of Ezcellenza went over us.
Of that she had never heard.
" O Madonna ! " said she, " thus are we guilty
of your misfortune ! Poor Antonio ! " she took
k2
202 THB lUPROVISATOBK.
my hand, and looked sorrowfnlly into mj hee-
She was greatly interested in old Domenict;
inquired whether I frequently viiited her, ud
I took shame to myself to confess, that daring
the last year I had only been twice out there;
although in Rome I bad seen her more fre-
quently, and had always divided ray little
wealth with her, but that was indeed nothiog
to speak of.
She besought of me always to tell her more,
and so, when I had related to her all about in;
life in childhood, I told her of Bernardo and
Annuricinta, and she looked with an ini
THE IMPROVISATORB. 208
and pious? I was a sinner like the others.
Circumstances, the mercy of the Mother of
God, had watched over me. In the moment of
temptation I was weak as any of those whom I
knew.
Lara was inexpressibly dear to her. " Yes,"
said she, '^ when your soul was in God's heaven,
could she only come to you ! I can very well
fancy her, fancy the blue, beaming grotto,
where you saw her for the last time ! "
Annunciata did not rightly please her;
''How could she love the hateful Bernardo?
I would rather not that she had been your
wife. A woman who thus can come forward
before a whole public ; a woman yes, I cannot
properly make that intelligible which I mean !
I feel, however, how beautiful she was, how
wise, how many advantages she possessed above
other women, but it does not seem to me that
she was worthy of you. Lara was a better
guardian angel for you!"
I must now tell her of my improvisation ;
and to her it seemed that it would be much
more terrible in the great theatre, than before
the robbers in the mountain cave. I shewed
her the Diario Napoliy in which was the
critique on my first appearance; how often
had I read it since then !
204 TBB lUFBOYIBATOKB.
It amused her to see every tluDg which that
paper fVom tho foreign city contained. All at
once slie looked up and exclaimed, ** But yon
never told me, however, that Annanciats wu
in Naples at the game time you were there.
Here it is Stated that she will make her appev-
ance on the morrow, that is on the day upoo
which you set out I"
" AnnuDciata!" Btammered I, and stared at
the paper, into which I had bo ofteu looked
befure, and yet, truly enough, had never reatl
any tiling but what had reference to myself.
"Tijat I never saw!" exclaimed I; and we
THB IMPR0V18AT0BE. 206
large general sitting-room, where the thick
green twining plants overshadowed the win-
dow. Flaminia sat, supporting her head upon
her hand, in a light slumber ; it seemed as if
she were keeping her eyes closed only for sport.
Her breast heaved, she dreamed. " Lara ! "
said she. In dreams she certainly floated with
my heart's dream-image, in that splendid world
where I last had seen her. A smile parted her
lips ; she opened her eyes.
"Antonio!" said she, " I have been asleep,
and have dreamed. Do you know of whom ?*'
''Lara!" said I; for I too could not but
think of her when I saw Flaminia with closed
eyes.
** I dreamt about her!" said she. "We
both of us flew far over the great, beautiful
sea, which you have told me about. Amid the
water there lay a rock, on which you sat, look
Ing very much dejected, as you often do. She
then said that we would fly down to you, and
she sank through the air down to you. I too
wished to go with her, but the air kept me far
aloft, and with every stroke of my wings, which
I made to follow her, I seemed to fly farther
away But when I fancied that there lay thou-
sands of miles between us, she was at my side,
and you also ! "
206 THE IMPROVISATORS.
"Thus win death assemble as!" said I.
" D^ath is rich, he possesses every thing wbicli
has been dearest to our hearts ! "
I spoke with her abont ray beloved de!.
the dead even of my thoughts, of my affectiont,
and we often turned back to these reuinii-
cences.
She then asked roe if I woald also thmlc of
her when we were eeparated. Very sooa she
should be really again in the convent, a hdI.
the bride of Christ, and we should ncrer s
each other more.
Deep suffering Deoetrated mv soul at thii
THS IMPR0TI8AT0RB. 207
to look at Flaminia. In my soul a thought
liad awoke, which I had never dared to unveil
before to myself. Slowly, but firmly, bad Fla-
minia grown into my heart ; it must bleed, I
felt, when we parted from each other. She was
the only one to whom my soul now clung ; the
only one who affectionately met my thoughts
and feelings. Was it love? Did I love her?
The feeling which Annunciata had awoke in
my soul was very difierent ; even the sight of
Lara, the remembrance of her, had something
much more allied to this feeling. Intellect and
beauty had captivated me in Annunciata ; ideal
beauty mingled itself with the first view of
Lara, which made my heart swell. No, this
was not my love for Flaminia. It was not the
wild, burning passion ; it was friendship ; a
brother's most living love. I felt the con-
nexion in which I stood to her, with regard to
her femily and her destination, and was in
despair at the thought of separation from her;
she was to me my all, my dearest in this
world ; but I had no wish to press her to my
heart, to breathe a kiss upon her lips, as had
been my whole thoughts with regard to An-
nunciata, and which, as an invisible power,
had driven me towards the blind girl ; no, this
was to me quite foreign.
sent, I became constrain
felt the thousand bonds ^
apon me ; I became Bilen
Alone was I eloquent. St
and 1 must lose her.
" Antonio ! " said she,
something has happeaec
know 1 Why not ? may
With her whole soul t
and I desired to be to
brother ; and yet my con
tended to lead her oat in
her how I myself had
monk, and how unbapp
if I bad become so, becai
heart asserts its right.
"I," said she, "shal
very happy, to return ag
among them I am o
Then I shall very often
THE IMPROVISATORE. 209
I shall pray for you, pray that the wicked
world may never corrupt you ; that you may
become very happy, and that the world may
rejoice in your song, and that you may feel
how good the dear God is to you and to us
altogether/'
Tears streamed from my eyes; I sighed
deeply, " We shall then never see each other
more!"
"Yes, with God and the Madonna!" said
she, and smiled piously. "There you shall
shew me Lara ! there also shall she receive the
sight of her eyes. Oh, yes, with the Madonna
it is the best ! *'
We removed again to Rome. In a few weeks,
I heard it said, that Flaminia was to return
to the convent, and shortly after that to take
the veil. My heart was rent with pain, and
yet I was obliged to conceal it. How forlorn
and desolate should I not be when she had
left us ! how like a stranger and alone should
I . not stand ! what grief of heart I should
experience ! I endeavoured to hide it to be
cheerful to be quite different to what I was.
They spoke of the pomp of her investiture
as if it had been a feast of gladness. But
could she, however, go away from us ? They
had befooled her mind, they had befooled her
Flaminia: with an an
Bought of her to thiol
doing, of thus going do'
" Let nobody hear
Antonio !" said she, wii
had nerer seen in her
has all IfH) firm a holt
to that which is faeaTenl
She became crimeoi
if she had spoken to
verity, and said, with th
ness, " You will not dis
I then sank down bi
like a saint before me,
to her. How many '
night! my strong feelin
a sin, she was really th
I ddly saw her, chiily
more highly. She talk
looked into my (ace.
THE IMPROYISATORE. 21 1
in my soul, and it made me happy that it was
known to no one. God send death to a heart
which suffers as mine suffered !
The moment of separation stood horrihiy
before me, and a wicked spirit whispered into
my ear, " Thou lovest her !" and I really did
not love her as I had loved Annunciata, my
heart tremhied not as it had done when my
lips touched Lara's forehead. " Say to Fla-
minia, that thou canst not live without her;
she also is attached to thee as a sister to a
brother. Say that thou lovest her! Excel-
lenza and the whole family will condemn thee,
turn thee out into the world : but then in
losing her thou losest every thing. The choice
18 easy ! '*
How often did this confession arise to my
lipSy but my heart trembled, and I was silent ;
it was a fever, a fever of death, which agitated
my blood, my thoughts !
All was in a state of preparation within the
palace for a splendid ball, a flower-festival for
the sacrificial tomb. I saw her in the rich,
magnificent dress, she was unspeakably lovely.
** Now be gay like the others!" she whis-
pered to me; **it distresses me to see you so
dejected. Often shall I certainly, for your
u^, when I am sitting in my convent, send
for your good. Promist
think 80 much on the b
end will be always go
notr are ; then I may
you, Btill to pray for y
good and merciful."
Her words penetratec
yet as she was that la
left uB, she was so m
father and the old Ezc
the separation as if it
days.
" Now say farewell I
biani, who was much aff
appeared not to be so.
her, and bowed to kiss fa
"Antonio !" said sti
low, tears streamed froi
thou be happy i"
I knew not how to 1
THE IMPROYISATORE. 213
She bent towards me, and, impressing a kiss
upon my forehead, said, " Thanks for thy
affection, my dear brother !"
More I know not ! I rushed out of the hall
and into my own chamber, where I could
weep freely ; it was as if the world sank
away from under my feet.
And I saw her yet once more ! When the
time was accomplished I saw her. The sun
shone so warm and cheerfully. I saw Flaminia
in all her rich pomp and magnificence, as she
was led up to the altar by her father and her
mother. I heard plainly the singing, and
perceived that many people were kneeling
all around, but there stood distinctly before
me only the pale, mild countenance an angel
it was which kneeled with the priests before
the high altar.
I saw how they took the costly veil from
her head, and the abundant hair fell down
upon her shoulders ; I heard the shears divide
it they stripped her of her rich clothing she
stretched herself upon the bier, the pall and
the black cloth, upon which are painted
death's heads, were thrown over her. The
church-bells tolled for the burial procession,
and the song for the dead was intoned. Yes,
dead was she buried to this world.
bride of lieaven arose,
called. 1 saw the last
reeled to the assembb
her band to the nearest
the grave of life.
The black grating
outline of her figure-
garment and she was
CHAPTER X.
OLD DOMENICA THB DISCOVERY THE EVEN-
ING IN NEPI THE boatman's SONG VENICE.
Congratulations were now offered in the
Borghese Palace. Flaminia- Elizabeth was
really the bride of heaven. Francesca's serious-
ness was not concealed by her artificial smile ;
the tranquillity which lay on her countenance
was banished from her heart.
Fabiani, most deeply affected, said to me,
' You have lost your best benefactress! You
have reason for being very much depressed !
She desired me to give you some scudi," con-
tinued he, '* for old Domenica; you have cer-
tainly spoken to her about your old foster-
mother. Take her thesCi they are Flaminia's
gift."
The dead lay like a snake around my heart;
216 TBE lUPBOVISATOBB.
niy thoughts were life's weariness, I trembled
bcriir! them, before them self-murder seemed
to lose ita terrors.
"Out into the free airl" thought I; "to
the home of mj childhood, where Domenio
sang cradle-songs to me ; where I pUyed iiid
drcjimed."
Yellow and scorched lay the Campagni;
not a green blade spoke of the hope of life i
the yellow Tiber rolled its waves towards the
sea in order to vanish there. I saw agab die
old burial-place, with the thick ivy over the
roof, nnd depending from the walls ; the littln
THB IMPROYISATORB. 217
to prevent her bearing me. I looked into the
room ; in the middle of the room Btood a great
iron-pan over a fire, some reeds were laid upon
it, and a young fellow blew them ; he turned
his head and saw me ; it was Pietro, the little
child, which I had nursed here.
" Saint Joseph !" exclained he, and sprung
up overjoyed, " is it your Excellency? It is a
long, long time since you were so gracious as
to come here !"
I extended to him my hand, which he would
kiss.
" Nay, nay, Pietro!" said I; "it almost
seems as if I had forgotten my old friends, but
I have not."
** No, the good old mother said so too,"
cried he; "Ob, Madonna! how glad she would
have been to have seen you !"
** Where is Domenica?'* inquired I.
" Ah !" returned he ; " it is now half a year
since she was laid under the earth. She died
whilst Excellenza was in Tivoli ! She was only
ill for a few days, but through all that time
she talked about her dear Antonio. Yes, Ex-
celleaza, do not be angry that I call you by
that name, but she was so very fond of you.
* Would that my eyes could see him before
tkey are closed !' said she, and longed so very
YOL. II. L
sang cradle-songs tP'
dreamod." i
Yellow ami s^ '
not a green hW ^
the yellow TiS %^ %
sea in order \ V^
old burial/ \ ^
roof, and
world 15, K
The d/l
feelir'^*
aff^
tat*
tl ^ney
1 had all
J before me, s
.. It souuded 1
yith a two-fold sen
/were, to the very hei
I know not how I'ret
Vnr ihrM. Inntr 1air
THE IMPROYISATOBE. 219
to be my nurse. No one named Flaminia to
me. I bad returned home ill from the Cam-
pagna, and bad laid myself immediately on
my bed, wben the fever took bold upon me.
I recovered my strength, but very slowly ;
in vain I endeavoured to compel myself to
humour and cheerfulness ; I was possessed of
neither.
It was about six weeks after this time,
when Flaminia took the veil, that the phy-
sician permitted me to go out. Almost
without knowing whither I directed my
steps, I went to the Porta pia ; my eye gazed
down upon the Quattri Fontane, but I had
not courage enough to pass the convent. Some
evenings, however, after this, when the new
moon shone in the heavens, the emotions of
my heart drew me thither; I saw the grey
convent walls, the grated windows, Flaminia's
closed grave. " Wherefore dared I not to see
the burial-place of the dead ?'* said 1 to myself,
and felt within me a resolution to do so.
Every evening 1 took my way past there.
*' I was very fond of walking to the Villa
Albani," said I to those of my acquaintance
whom I met by chance. " God knows what
will be the end of it!" sighed my heart; ** I
"220 TBE IHPBOTUATOKB.
ctiiuiot endure it long!" I vas then jut it
the goal.
It was a dark erening; a nj of 1^1
stronmed dowu the wall of the conreDt; I
leaned myself ugamst the corner of a hoate,
fixiid my eyes upon this bright point, and
tliought on Flaminia.
" Antonio!" said a voice close behind me;
" Antonio, what are yon doing here?"
Il was Fabiani. " Follow me home!" sad
he.
I accompanied him ; we spoke not a trod
knew it all as well as I myself
THE IMPBOYIBATOBE. 221
will be beneficial to yoa ; the physician is of
the BaOie opinion also. You have already seen
Naples, visit now the north of Italy. I shall
provide the means for it. It is the best thing
for you, necessary, and/' added he, with a
Berionsness, a severity, which I had never
known in him before, '*' I am convinced that
you will never forget the benefits which we
have conferred upon you. Never occasion us
mortification, shame, and sorrow, which in-
discretion or blind passion might do. A man
can do any thing, whatever he will^ if he be
only a good man."
His words struck me to the earth like a
flash of lightning; I bent my knee, and
pressed his hand to my lips.
" I know very well," said he, half-jestingly,
^' that we may have done you injustice ; that
we have been unreasonable and severe. No
persons, however, will intend more uprightly
and more kindly towards you than we have
done. You vrill hear more flattering modes of
speech, more loving words, but not more true
integrity than we have shewn you. For a year
jou shall move about. Let us then see what
is yoar state of mind, and whether we have
done you an injustice."
With these words he left me.
2'22 TBB IHPBOTIBATOBB.
Ilnd the world still new snaring for me
still fresti poison-drops? Even the only drtof^t
of consolation, freedom to Ry about in GodV
world, fell like gall into my deep wound. Fw
from Rome, &r from the south, where li;
nil the flowers of my remembrance, oTer tbe
Apennines, toward the north, where then
actimily lay snow upon the lofty mountaiiu!
Cold blown from the Alps into my wtnn
blood ? Toward the north, to the floe^
V.iiice, the bride of the seat God! let me
never more return to Konie, to the gran of
my cherished memories! Farewell, my home,
THE IMPROTISATORE. 223
entered. Just outside of this lay the rast ruins
of a castle or convent, the broad highroad
running through its dilapidated halls, a little
path turned from the main-road, and led into
the midst of them ; ivy and maiden's hair grew
dependingly from the walls of the solitary cells.
I entered into a large hall ; tall grass grew
above the rubbish and the overthrown capitals,
enwreathing vine-shoots moved their broad
leaves through the great Gothic windows, where
now were only small remains of loosely hang-
ing painted glass. Aloft, upon the walls, grew
bushes and hedges; the beams of the moon fell
upon a fresco-painting of Saint Sebastian, who
stood bleeding, and pierced with an arrow.
Deep organ-tones resounded, as it seemed,
continuously through the hall ; I followed the
sounds, and, passing out through a narrow door,
found myself among myrtle-hedges and luxu-
riant vine-leaves, close to a perpendicular de-
scent of great depth, down which a waterfall
was precipitated, foamingly white, in the clear
moonlight.
The whole romantic scene would have sur-
prised any mind, yet perhaps my distress would
have allowed it to slide out of my memory, had
not that which I saw further impressed it pain-
fully, deeply into my heart. I followed the
224 THE IMPROTISATOBB.
w, almost overgrown path, close to the
abyss, towards the broad highway. Close be-
side me, from over the 1o%, white wait, npon
which tlie mooD was shining, stared three pale
bends, behind an iron grating, the heads of
three executed robbers, which, as in Rome, on
the Porln del Angelo, were placed in iron cages,
to serve as a terror and a warning to others.
There was to me nothing terrible in them.
In earlier days, the sight would have drivea
Mie uivay hence; but suffering makes philo-
sophers. The bold head, which had beeao&
cupied by thoughts of death end plunder, the
was now u siienl.
THE IMPBOYISATORB. 225
** Friascati;" and, agitated to the very depths
of my soul, I stepped back a few paces.
Folvia, the singular old woman, who had
once saved my life, she who had obtained the
means for my going to Naples, my life's inex-
plicable spirit, did I thus meet with, her again !
With these pale, blue lips had she once pressed
my forehead; these lips, which, to the crowd,
had spoken prophetic words, had given life and
deaths were now silent, breathing forth horror
from their very silence ! Thou didst prophesy
my fortune ! Thy bold eagle lies with clipped
wings, and has never reached the sun ! In the
combat with his misfortune, he sinks down
into the great Nemi-lake of life ! His pinion is
broken !
I burst into tears, repeated Fulvia's name,
and slowly retraced my steps through the deso-
late ruins. Never shall I forget that evening
in Nepi.
The next morning we journeyed onward, and
came to Terni, where is the largest and most
beautiful waterfall in Italy. I rode from the
city through the thick, dark olive-groves, the
first which I had penetrated ; wet clouds hung
around the summits of the mountains, every
thing to the north of Rome appeared to me
dark, nothing smiling and beautiful, as the
L 2
236 THB IHPROTIBATOBB.
Mnrnhes and as tlie orenge^rdens of Tem-
tiua, wherethegreenpalm-treesgrow. Periupi
it was iny own heart which gave the whole thi
ilark colouring.
^Vo went through a garden ; a Inxamnt
orangc-alley extended iteelf between the rocky
wall and the river, which rushed onward with
the fipeed of an arrow. Between the rock* 1
saw a cloud oF spray ascend high up in the
patli, upon which a nunbow played. Vfe
ascended amid a wilderness of rosemary aod
myrtle; and, from the very sammit of the
nioiuitjiin, ahove the sloping, rocky wall, wis
THB IMPROYISATORB. 227
firom Rome to Tcrni. The authorities are now
always so much on the alert ! They laid their
hands on three unfortunates ; I saw them driven
to the city chained to the cart. At the gate sat
the wise Fulvia, as we called her, from the Sa-
bine mountains; she was old, and yet always
young; she knew more than many a monk
who will get the cardinal's hat ; she could
tell fortunes in figurative words; and since
this people have said that it was a sign that
she was in connexion with them. Now they
have taken her and many of the robbers. Her
hour was come, so now her head is placed grin-
ning over the gate at Nepi."
It was as if every thing, man as well as na-
ture, would cast night into my soul ; I felt a
desire with the speed of the wind to chase
through the country. The dark olive-groves
threw more shadow into my soul ; the moun-
tains oppressed me. Away to the sea, where
the wind blew ! to the sea, where one heaven
bore us, and another vaulted itself above us !
The world's grief must be great when my lot
was to be envied !
To the sea, the wonderful sea! That is to
me a new world. To Venice, the strangely
floating city, the queen of the Adriatic!
But not through the dark woods, the to-
228 THS IMPBOYIBATOBB.
gether-compressing mouDtwiiB, quick, in euj
flight over the billows 1 So dreamed mj
thoughts.
It hnd been my plan to go 6rBt to Florence,
and therefore through Bologna and Ferran. I
altered this, howerer, left the vetlurino in Spo-
Icto, took a place in the mail, and posted over
the Apennines in the dark night, through Lo-
retto, without even visiting its hoi; boose.
]Madoima, forgive me my sin I
High up, ou the mountain-road, 1 had already
di^cerued the Adriatic Sea as a silver stripe on
the horizon; the mountains lay like giganlie
THB IMPROVISATORX. 229
An inexplicable feeling drove me onward. I
stepped on board, ordered my ligbt luggage to
be sent after me, and looked out over the infinite
sea. "Farewell my fatherland!" Now, for
the first time, I seemed rightly to have flown
forth into the world, as my feet no longer trod
npon the earth. I knew perfectly that the
oortb of Italy would present to me a new style
of scenery. Venice itself was really so difierent
to any other Italian city; a richly adorned bride
for the mighty sea. The winged Venetian lion
waved on the flag above me. The sails swelled
in the wind, and concealed the coast from me.
I sat upon the right side of the ship, and looked
out across the blue, billowy sea ; a young lad
sat not far from me, and sang a Venetian song
about the bliss of love and the shortness of
life.
^' Kiss the red lips, on the morrow thou art
with the dead ; love, whilst thy heart is young,
and thy blood is fire and flame ! Grey hairs
are the flowers of death : then is the blood
ice: then is the flame extinguished ! Come into
the light gondola ! We sit concealed under its
roof, we cover the windows, we close the door,
nobody sees thee, my love ! Nobody sees how
happy we are. We are rocked upon the waves ;
the waves embrace, and so do we ! Love
230 THE IHPROVtfiATORE.
whilst youth is in thy blood. Age kilU witb
frost and with snow !"
As he sung, he smiled and iiolded to the
others around him ; and ihey sang in chorat,
about kiasiDg and loving while the heart gs
young. It was a merry song, very merry ; and
yet it sounded like a tn^cal son^ of death in
my heart. Yes, thu years spot) away, the
flames of youth are exttngnished. I had
poured the holy oil of love out over the earth,
which kindled neither light nor warmth : to lie
sure it does no damage; but it 6ows ialo ll
grave, without brightening or warming. No
THB IMPBOYIBATORB. 231
BemardOy like a thousand others, like all my
young friends? None, none of all these would
have been a fool as I had been. My heart
desired love : God had ordained it, who had
implanted this feeling within me. I was still
young, however : Venice was a gay city, full of
beautiful women. And what does the world
give me for my virtue, thought I, for my
child-like temper? ridicule, and time brings
bitterness and grey hairs. Thus thought I,
and sang in chorus with the rest, of kissing
and loving, whilst the heart was yet young.
It was delirium, the madness of suffering,
which excited these thoughts in my soul. He
who gave to me my life, my feelings, and
directed my whole destiny, will lead me in
love. There are combats, thoughts even,
which the most mortal dare not to express,
because the angel of Innocence in our breast
regards them as sinful. They who indulge the
longings of their hearts may philosophise
beautifully over my speech. Judge not, lest
ye be judged ! I felt that in myself in my
own corrupt nature, there abode no good
thing. I could not pray; and yet I slept
whilst the vessel flew onward to the north to
the rich Venice.
In the morning hour, I discerned the white
232 THE IHPSOTIBATOBB.
buildings and towera of Venice, which Kernel
like a crowd of ships with outspread sails. To
the left stretched itself the kingdom of Lorn-
bardy, with its flat coast : the Alps seemed like
pale blue mist in the horizon. Here was the
heaven wide. Here the half of the heini-
sphere could mirror itself in the heart.
[ii ibis sweet morning air my thoughts were
milder : I was more cheerful. I thought aboet
the history of Venice, of the city's wealth uil
pomp, its independence and supremacy: of the
uiagjiiiicent doges, and their marriage witli
tlie sen. We advanced nearer and nearer to
THB IMPROVISATORE. 233
taut ; and between us and it lay an unsightly
muddy water, with broad islands of slime,
upon which not a single bird could find foot-
ingy and not a single blade of grass could take
root. Through the whole extent of this lake
were dug deep canals^ bordered with great piles
to indicate their direction. I now saw the
gondola for the first time : long and narrow,
quick as a dart ; but all painted coal-black.
The little cabin in the centre, covered over
with black cloth : it was a floating hearse,
which shot past us with the speed of an arrow.
The water was no longer blue, as it was out in
the open sea, or close upon the coast of Na-
ples : it was of a dirty green. We passed by
an island where the houses seemed to grow up
out of the water, or to have clung to a wreck :
aloft upon the walls stood the Madonna and the
child, and looked out over this desert. In
some places, the surface of the water was like a
moving, green plain a sort of duck-pool, be-
tween the deep sea and the black islands of
Bofl mud. The sun shone upon Venice : all
the bells were ringing ; but it looked neverthe-
less dead and solitary. Only one ship lay in
the docks ; and not a single man could I see.
I stepped down into the black gondola, and
sailed up into the dead street, where every thing
234 TBB IHPBOTISATOBB.
was water, not afoot- breadth upon which to valk-
Ltirge bitildings stood with open doors, aad with
stops down to the water; the water ran into the
groat door-ways, like a canal ; and the palace
court itaelf seemed only a four-cornered weU,,iiiW
which people could sail, but scarcely turn the
gotulola. The water had left its greenish sliiM
upon the walU: the great marble palm
sci'iiiod as if Binking together: in the broad
windows, rough boards were nailed up to the
gildt'il, half-decayed beams. The proud giaot-
boil y seemed to be Killing away piecemeal ; the
whole had an air of depression about it. The
iiL'' of the bells ceased, not a sound, '
THB IMPROVISATORE. 235
neighbour, from the sixth story across the
street; three people could hardly pass each
other below, where not a sunbeam found its
way. Our gondola had passed on, and all
was still as death.
" Is this Venice ? ^The rich bride of the sea?
the mistress of the world ?"
I saw the magnificent square of St. Mark.
" Here is life !" people said. But how very
different is it in Naples, nay, even in Rome,
upon the animated Corso ! And yet the square
of St. Mark's is the heart of Venice, where life
does exist. Shops of books, pearls, and pic-
tures, adorned the long colonnades, where, how-
ever, it was not yet animated enough. A
crowd of Greeks and Turks, in bright dresses,
and with long pipes in their mouths, sat quietly
outside of the coffee-houses. The sun shone upon
the golden cupola of St. Mark's church, and
upon the glorious bronze horses over the portal.
From the red masts of the ships of Cyprus,
Candia, and Morea^ depended the motionless
flags. A flock of pigeons filled the square by
thousands, and went daintly upon the broad
pavement.
I visited the Ponte Rialto, the pulse-vein
which spoke of life; and I soon compre-
hended the great picture of Venice the pic-
The evening came; s
beams cast their nncerta
broader shadows, I felt i
in the hour of the spiri
become familiar with the
at the open window : the 1
quickly over the dark,
thought upon the seaman
of love; felt a bitteraeBS
who had preferred the
to me; and why? perhi
of the piquancy which tt
him such are women!
towards the innoceui, j
tranquillity oftheconvent
my strong, brotherly \o\
love neither of them m
emptiness in my heart o
which bad once been di
think of neither of then
like an uneasy ghost, i
between Lara, tht* imairA (
THB IMPROVISATORB.
237
be taken through the streets in the silent
evening. The rowers sung their alternating
song, but it was not from the " Gerusalemme
Liberata ; " the Venetians had forgotten even the
old melodies of the heart, for their doges were
dead, and foreign hands had bound the wings
of the lion, which was harnessed to their
triumphal car.
" I will seize upon life will enjoy it to the
last drop!" said I, as the gondola lay still.
We were at the hotel where I lodged. I went
to my own room, and lay down to sleep.
Such was my first day in Venice, a dark
and evil day a day which left no peace be-
hind it. But God, like a loving parent in His
treatment of a wayward child, left me at times
to my own course,- that I might find how far I
had gone from light and peace. Blessed be
His great name !
CHAPTER XI.
THE STOBH SOIRts AT UT BAHEBr's THE
NIBGB OP THB P0DB8TA.
THB IMPROYISATORB. 239
honest friends, since it was those only who told
me disagreeable things. But I, however, felt
no longer my subordinate condition, the sense
of which not even Flaminia's goodness could
remove.
I had now visited the rich palace of the
doges, had wandered in the empty, magni-
ficent halls ; seen the chamber of the Inquisi-
tion, with the frightful picture of the torments
of hell. I went through a narrow gallery,
over a covered bridge, high upon the roof,
above the canals on which the gondolas glided :
this is the way from the doge's palace to the
prisons of Venice. This bridge is called the
Bridge of Sighs. Close beside it lie the wells.
The light of the lamp alone from the passage
can force its way between the close iron bars
into the uppermost dungeon ; and yet this was
a cheerful, airy hall, in comparison with those
which lie lower down, below the swampy cel-
lars, deeper even than the water outside in the
canals ; and yet in these unhappy captives had
sighed, and inscribed their names on the damp
walls.
" Air, air !" demanded ray heart, rent with
the horrors of this place ; and, entering the
gondola, I flew with the speed of an arrow
from the pale-red old palace, and from the
'ere IS tne strangei
far fiom his Dative
little strip of land ai
daj by daj seem to rei
of its small remaios.
Btuck out from the a
wept over them. Hen
erman's bride or wife,
the buBband, who had
the nncertain set. Thi
again upon iu strong p
sanghersongsoutof"
and listened to hear wh
But Love gaFe no retu
sat there, and looked
Then, also, her lipe beca
only the white bones of
Bhe heard only the ht
billows, whilst night ut
silent Venice.
The dark uictur* fill
THB IMPROVIfiATORE. 241
scene. Flaminia's words resounded in my ear,
that the poet, who was a prophet of God,
should endeavour only to express the glorifi-
cation of God, and that subjects which tended
to this were of the highest character. The
immortal soul ought to sing of the immortal ;
the glitter of the moment changed its play of
colour, and vanished with the instant that gave
it birth. Kindling strength and inspiration
fired my soul, but quickly died away again.
I silently entered the gondola, which bore me
towards Lido. The great open sea lay before
me, and ixlled onward to the shore in long
billows. I thought of the bay of Amalfi.
Just beside me, among sea-grass and stones,
sat a young man sketching, certainly a foreign
painter ; it seemed to me that I recognised
him, I stepped nearer, he raised his head, and
we knew each other. It was Poggio, a young
Venetian nobleman. I had been several times
in company with him in the families whom I
visited.
'* Signore," exclaimed he, ** you on Lido ! Is
it the beauty of the scene, or/' added he, '^ some
other beauty which has brought you so near to
the angry Adriatic ?"
We offered each other our hands. I knew
something about him, that he had no property,
VOL. II. M
veraation, he was perso
jet lie was in reality pro
ing to hie account of him
have been his model,
combated, like the holy^i
every temptation. A d
the ground of all this, i
what? whether his nn
an unhappy love-affair?
that rightly. He seemei
thing, not to conceal tl
his behayiour seemed sim
and yet nobody seemed ri
stand him. All this hu
this meeting witli him no
to me, it dissipated the cl
" Such a blue, billowy]
ing lo the sen, " is not to
The sea is the most bea
earth! It is, also, the me
added Iip Iaiin.hi.. : .
THB IMPBOYISATORE. 243
mother, who carried th^m and pUiyed with
them for the sake of her beautiful daughter
Venetia/*
** She is no longer beautiful now, she bows
her head/' replied he.
** But yet/* said I, *' she is still happy under
the sway of the Emperor Francis."
** It is a prouder thing to be queen upon the
sea than a Caryatide upon land/' returned he.
" The Venetians have nothing to complain about,
and politics are what I do not understand,
but beauty, on the contrary, I do ; and if you
are a patron of it, as I do not doubt but you
are, see, here comes my landlady*s handsome
daughter, and inquires whether you will take
part in my frugal dinner ! *'
We went into the little house close by the
shore. The wine was good, and Poggio most
charming and entertaining. No one could
have believed that his heart secretly bled.
We had sat here certainly a couple of hours,
when my gondolier came to inquire whether I
would not .return, as there was every appear-
ance of a storm coming on ; the sea was in
great agitation, and between Lido and Venice
the waves ran so high, that the light gondola
might easily be upset.
* A stonn!" exclaimed Poggio, "that is
rr*:i
lor us to pass the nigl
it go over our lieadt
waves sings us to alee
" I can at SDy time'
the ialand," said I u
missed him.
Tiie storm beat viol,
went into the open a
illamined the daik-gn
lows heaved tfaemsel
foam, and sank down
tanee, where the cloi
by lightning, we perw
moment they were a
gain. The billows U
struck npon the ehore,
salt drops. The hi^
louder Poggio laughed
shouted "Bravo!" to i
example infected me, a
ibwir Kaf :j .i.r.
THX IMPROyiSATOBB. 245
song the same song about love which I had
heard in the ship.
^* Health to the Venetian hidies ! " said I, and
he rang his glass against mine to the beaatifal
Koman ones. Had a stranger seen us, he would
have thought that we were two happy young
friends.
*' The Roman women/* said PoggiOy ^* pasa
for the handsomest. Tell me, now, honestly,
your opinion."
** I consider them as such/' said I.
" Well J" said Poggio^ " but the Queen of
Beauty lives in Venice ! You should see the
nkce of our Podesta! I know nothing more
spiritually beautiful than she; such as she ia
would Canova have represented the youngest
of the Graces had he known Maria. I hare
only seen her at mass and once in the Theatre
of Saint Moses. There go all the young Vene-
tians, like me, only they are in love with her
to the death, I only adore her; she is too
spiritual for my fleshly nature. But one really
must adore what is heavenly. Is it not so^
8ignoreAbb6?"
I thought on Flaminia, and my momentarily
kindled merriment was at an end*
'*You are become grave!" said he, ^'the
^wi uneii, replied
pany he has is very selec
as an antelope, fearfiiUy
woman that ever I knew ;
a jocular smile, "it m
making herself interesti
kow the whole rightly hi
, our Podeata had two
were away from him a
the yoangest wa marriei
the mother of thia beau
sister is still unmarried, i
ahe brought the beauty h
ago "
A sudden darkness inte
it was as if the black night 1
mantle, and at the same m
ning iUumiocd all aronni
followed, which reminded :
of Vesuvius.
Our beads bowed tb...
THE IMFROVISATORC. 247
our room, ** it is a fear and a horror to think
of! Four of our best fishermen are out at sea !
Madonna keep her hand over them ! The poor
Agnese sits with five children^that will be a
misery ! "
We perceived, through the storm, the singing
of a psalm. There stood upon t)ie shore against
which the billows broke in lofty surf a troop
of women and children with the holy cross : a
young woman sat silently among them, with
her glance riveted on the sea ; one little child
lay on her breast, and another, somewhat
older, stood by her side^ and laid its head on
her lap.
With the last fearful flash, the storm seemed
to have removed itself to a greater distance ;
the horizon became brighter, and more clearly
shone the white foam upon the boiling sea.
"There they are!" exclaimed the woman,
and sprang up and pointed to a black speck,
which became more and more distinct.
"Madonna be merciful to them!" said an
old fisherman, who, with his thick brown
hood drawn over his head, stood with folded
hands, and gazed on the dark object. At
that same moment it vanished in a foaming
whirlpool.
The old man had seen aright. I heard the
mothers. The old fisberm
again, impressed a kbs u
feet, raised it od high, i
name of tbe Madonna,
Towards midnight the
the sea more tntnqail, am
her loog beams over the ct
Island and Venice. Pc^ic
with me, and we left the i
we could neither assist not
The next evening ve
banker's, one of the richei
company, was very nameroi
knew none, neither had I
them.
They began to speak ij
storm the evening before,
word, and told of the deatl
of the misfortwie of the &
to be very cleariv nnden
THE IMPBOVISATOBB. 2^.
greatest benefit to the onfortanately bereaved
&iiiilie8, but nobody seemed to onderstand him;
tliey deplored, shrogged their shoulders, and
then began talking of something else.
Presently those who were possessed of any
company-talent, produced it for public benefit.
Poggio sang a merry barcarole ; but I seemed
to see the while, in his polite smile, bitterness
and coldness towards the dignified circle, which
would not allow themselves to be guided by hia
noUe eloquence.
*' You do not sing?" asked the lady of the
house firom me, when he had done.
^ I will have the honour to improvise before
you," said I, as a thought entered my misd.
*^ He is an improviBatore," I heard whispered
around me The eyes of the ladies sparkled ;
the gentlemen bowed. I took a guitar, and
begged them to give me a subject.
*' Venice!" cried a lady looking boldly int^
my eyes.
** Venice!" repeated the young gentlemen^
'^ because the ladies are handsome !"
I touched a few chords ; described the pomp
and glory of Venice in the days of her great-
ness, as I had read about it, and as my ima-
gination had dreamed of ita being, and all eyes
flashed, they fancied that it was so now. I
m2
" She is here!" whi
" the niece of the Podet
But we were prevent
each other. I was reqii
provise : a depatation ol
cellenza presented the w
I was willing, because it
had anticipated it, and
aome one of the giTen
occasion to descrihe the
seeo, the misery of the
the might of song to con
could not move.
They gave me the Apo
he had only been a sei
brought him forwards a
occasion, but in his praise
the idea which I wished t
ject was, neverthelesa, a ri
ment of it exceeded expe
THE IHPROVISATORE. 251
the idol of the company, it was my own Apo-
theosis !
'* No happiness can be greater than yours!"
said the lady of the house ; *' it must be an infi-
nitely delightful feelings that of possessing a
talent like yours, that can transport and charm
all those around you."
'' It is a delightful feeling!" said I.
'' Describe it in a beautiful poem ! " said she,
beseechingly; ''it is so easy to you that one
forgets how unreasonable one is in making so
many demands upon you."
** I know one sentiment," returned I, and
my design gave me boldness, " I know one
emotion which is not exceeded by any other,
which makes every heart a poet, which awakes
the same consciousness of happiness, and I con-
sider myself to be so great a magician as to have
the power of exciting it in every heart. But
this art has this peculiarity, that it cannot be
given, it must be purchased."
" We must become acquainted with it," they
all exclaimed.
" Here, upon this table," said I, " I collect
the sums, he who gives the most will be most
deeply initiated therein."
*' I will give my gold chain,*' said one lady.
" the pledges mast not be i
" We will venture it," si
liad already laid down gold
still inwardly having donbtt
" Bat if DO emotion what
me," said an officer, "ma;
back my two docate?"
"Then, the wagers are
Pogg^o. I bowed assentiDgl
All laoghed, all waited fo
ezpeetation ; and I began
holy flame penetrated me,
prood sea, the bridegroom
the sons of the sea, the bold
ermeo in their little boats. Ic
the wife's and the bride's lonf
described that which I mysc
children who had let fall the
clung to their mothers, and '
who kissed the feet of the R
THE IMPROVI8ATORE. 263
A deep silence prevailed through the room,
and many an eye wept. ^
I then condncted them into the huts of po-
yerty, and took help and life through our little
gift, and I sang how much more blessed it wag
to give than to receive, sang of the delight
which filled my breast, which filled every heart,
that had contributed its mite. It was a feeling
which nothing could outweigh ; it was the divine
voice in all hearts, which made them holier,
and loftier, and elevated them to the poet! And,
whilst I spoke, my voice increased in strength
and fulness.
I had won every thing. A tumultuous bravo
saluted me ; and, at the conclusion of my song,
I handed the rich gifts to Poggio, that thereby
he might take help to the unfortunates.
A young lady sank at my feet a more
beautiful triumph had my talent never ob-
tained for me seized my hand, and, with tears
in her beautiful dark eyes, looked gratefully
into my soul. This glance singularly agitated
me, it was an expression of beauty which I
seemed to have once beheld in a dream.
* The Mother of God reward you ! " stam*
mered she, whilst the blood crimsoned her
cheek. She concealed her countenance, and
withdrew from me, as if in horror at what she
there as their henefacU
" It is more blessed i
This evening had taugi
Poggio pressed me in 1
"Excellent man," st
honour you! Beauty
wage ; she, who with (
sands happy, bows bet
dust ! "
"Who was she?" in
strained voice.
" The most beautiful ii
"The niece of the Podet
That remarkable g](
henaty. stood livingly ii
ineiplicable remembranc
exclaimed, " She was bea
"Yon do not recognise
Mid an old lady, who can
a many years since I had
THE IMPROYISATORE. 255
I bowed politely ; her features seemed fami-
liar to me, but when and where I had seen
her was not clear to me. I was obliged to
say so.
^^ Yes, that is natural ! " said she ; '^ we
have only seen each other one single time!
That was in Naples. My brother was phy-
sician. You visited him with a gentleman of
the Borghese family."
. " I remember it !" I exclaimed. " Yes, now
1 realise you ! Least of all did I expect
that we should meet again here in Venice ! "
" My brother," said she, " for whom I kept
house, died about four years ago. Now, I live
with my elder brother. Our servant shall
take you our card. My niece is a child a
strange child; she will go away away in-
stantly. I must attend her ! "
The old lady again gave me her hand, and
left the room.
"Lucky fellow!" said Po^io, "that was
the Podesta's sister! You know her, have
had an invitation from her ! Half of Venice
will envy you. Button your coat well about your
heart when you go there, that you be not
wounded like the rest of us, who approach in
the slightest degree towards the enemy's bat-
tery."
deed, had driven her
eircle, where she had di
eif; and yet nothing
praise and admiration. 1
Willi Biinel The qneei
lanlod every one. Her
a noble as her fonn.
The conacionaness of
work threw a isyofligh
noble pride ; felt my 01
I"~i of the gift of,
"d lore which snrfoum
U bitterness from my so
a if my spiritual streng
and mightier from its s
Flaminia, and thought o
ke would, indeed, haie p
er. Her worda, that I
"iog of that which wa
glori^ng of God, cast a
THE IMPROVISATORS. 257
many months, I agaiu felt happiness. It was
a delightful evening.
Poggio rung his glass against mine. We
concluded a friendship between us, and sealed
it with a brotherly thou.
It was late when I returned home, but I felt
no want of sleep ; the moon shone so brightly
upon the water in the canal, the atmosphere
was so high and blue. With the pious faith of
a child, I folded my hands and prayed, '* Fa-
ther, foi^ve me my^ins! Give me strength to
become a good and noble man, and thus may
I still dare to remember Flaminia, to think
upon my sister. Strengthen, also, her soul, let
her never imagine of my suffering! Be good
to us, and merciful. Eternal God !"
And now my heart was wondrously light;
the empty canals of Venice and the old pa-
laces seemed to me beautiful, a sleeping
&iry world.
The next morning I was as cheerful as ever;
a noble pride had awoke in my breast. I was
happy because of my spiritual gifts, and thank-
ful to God. I took a gondola, to go and
make my visit at the house of the Podesta,
whose sister I knew ; to speak candidly, I had
also a desire to see the young lady who had
~"..uiu(j, iviuung to
Moor of Venice, who
Desdemona, had live
English went to visit
St. Mark's Church, o;
They all received n
loved relation. Rosa
talked of her dear de^
nifiny Naples, which
for these four yeara.
" Yes," said she, "
and we will set off wh.
I must see Vesuvius i
yet once more before I
Maria entered and
with a sisterly, and
manner. She was beau
more beautiful than wh
tent herself before me.
must the yonngest of
female form coulrf ho
THE IMPROVISATORS. 259
of violets in her hair, was as beautiful as Maria
in her splendid dress. Her closed eyes had
appealed to my heart more touchingly than
the singularly dark glance of fire in Maria's
eyes ; every feature, however, had a pensive
expression like Lara's ; but then, in the open
dark eye, was peace and joy, which Lara had
never known. There was, nevertheless, so
much resemblance as to bring the blind girl
to my mind, whom she never had seen, nay,
even that strange reverential feeling, as if to
some superior being, again into my heart.
My powers of mind exhibited greater flexi-
bility, my eloquence became richer. I felt
that I pleased every one of them ; and Maria
seemed to bestow upon my talents as much
admiration as her beauty won from me.
I looked upon her as a lover looks upon
a beautiful female figure, the perfect image of
his beloved. In Maria, I found all Lara's
beauty almost as in a mirror, and Flaminia's
entire sisterly spirit ; one could not but have
confidence in her. It was to me as if we had
known one another for a long time.
A QRBAT erent in
here that it almost
my mind, as the lo
dnwB away the e;
growth; I therefore
that which lies in the
I was often at the
was, the; said, its i
talked to me about h
read alond to her an
Comedia," Atfieri aoc
tirated with Maria's i
as with the works
Oct t^F ti.:- - "
THE IMPROVISATORS. 261
our friendshipy which had introduced him
there^ for which he was the envy of the whole
youth of Venice.
Every where was my talent as improvisa-
tore admired, nay, it was so highly esteemed
that no circle would allow me to escape before
I had gratified their wish by giving them a
proof of my power. The first artists extended
to me their hands as brothers, and encouraged
me to come forward in public. And m part I
did so before the members of the Academia
del mrte one evening, by improvising on Daa-
4i^'s procession to Constantinople, and upoa
the bronze horses on the church of St. Maii^
for which I was honoured with a diploma and
received into their Society.
But a much greater pleasure awaited me ia
the house of the Podesta. One day Maria pre-
soited to me a little casket containing a beau-
tiful necklace of lovely, bright-coloured mused-
shells, exceedingly small, delicate, and lovely,
atrung upon a silken thread ; it was a present
from the unfortunates of Lido, whose benefac-
tor I was called.
*^ It is very beautiful," said Maria.
** That you must preserve for your bride,"
said Rosa; '^it is a lovely gift for her, and
with that intention has it been given."
"Never!" repeated
ground, in the deep k
lost.
Maria, also, became!
Ske had pleased henel
astonishing me by the
' from Poggio, to wh
for that purpose; an.
"MeJ, oonceaUng ntj
"xl holding the necklac
so gUdlj. have given ii
ords staggered my i
certainly divined my th,
"y eye upon her, a dee
coantenance. '
"Yon come very seh
rich banker's wife one
visit" very seldom co
Podesta'.i-ye,, ,|,a,
THE IMPROVISATORS. 263
a magnificent estate in Calabria, it is her own
heritage, or has been bought for that parpose.
Be bold, and it will succeed. You will be the
envy of all Venice."
** How can you think," returned I, " that
such a conceited thought should enter my
mind? I am as far from being a lover of
Maria's as any body else can be. Her beauty
charms me, as all beauty does, but that is not
love ; and that she has fortune does not ope-
rate with me."
** Ah, well, well ! we shall see for all that !"
said the lady ; '^ love gets on best in life when
it stands well in the kitchen when there is
enough to fill the pot. It is out of this that
people must live ! "
And with this she laughed and gave me her
hand.
It provoked me that people should think and
should talk in this way. I determined to go
less frequently to the house of the Podesta,
spite of their all being so dear to me. I had
thought of spending this evening with them,
but I now altered my determination. My
blood was in agitation. Nay, thought I,
wherefore vex myself? I will be cheerful.
Life is beautiful if people will only let it be so ;
little rooms were Im
people llironged tog,
in long rajs upon tl
"M" Hew .apidly Jo
rck which sustained
Toice of singing. ;,
*" and lore, and
tte tree of Inowled^
^e of Sin.
Iwentonwanlthron
attuetoahousemoreli
f there, into |,j,,^ ^ ^
"^S- It was one of tl
. Saint Lucas", I
A little companv ve
"ce in the d.j-; as in
JTapIe.. Thelim repr
M about four o'doc]
J"' six, and the
"" P"ee was veiy low
THE IMPROYIAATORE. 266
hear music^ and the curiosity of strangers,
cause there often to be very good houses, and
that even twice in the evening.
I now read in the play-bill " Donna Ca^
ritea, regina de Spagna^ the music by Mer-
cadante."
" I can come out again if I get weary of it/'
said I to myself; '^ and, at all events, I can
go in and look at the pretty women." I was
in the humour for the thing, and resolved to
enjoy myself.
I went in, received a dirty little ticket, and
was conducted to a box near the stage. There
were two ro^irg of boxes, one above the other;
the places for the spectators were right spa-
cious, but the stage itself seemed to me like a
tray, several people could not have turned
themselves round upon it, and yet there was
going to be exhibited an equestrian opera,
with a tournament and a procession. The
boxes were internally dirty and defaced, the
ceiling seemed to press the whole together. A
man in his shirt-sleeves came forward to light
the lamps ; the people talked aloud in the pit ;
the musicians came into the orchestra they
could only raise a quartett.
Every thing shewed what the whole might
be expected to be, yet still I resolved to wait
VOL. II. N
me Ins hand, saying,
"Who would have i
here? But," wbispen
make vei-y pleasant ac(
pale moonlight people i
He kept talking on g
the overture had begui
plorable, and the cui
whole corps consisted o
gentlemen, who lookee
fetclied in from field lal
knightly apparel.
" Yes," said my neigh
are often not badly ce
actor who might figure ii
Ah, ye good saints!" exi
as the queen of the pi
ladies; "are we to hav.
then, I would not give a i
whole thing; Jeanette w
It wnofl I!K. --j:_..
THE IMPROVISATORB. 2G7
which came forward as the queen ; and yet it
was with a grace which amazed me, and which
accorded so little with the rest, a grace which
would excellently have become a young and
beautiful girl. She advanced towards the
lamps, my heart beat violently, I scarcely
dared to inquire her name ; I believed that my
eyes deceived me.
*' What is she called ?" at length I asked.
" Annunciata," replied my neighbour;
*^sing she cannot, and that one may see by
that little skeleton ! "
Every word fell upon my heart like corro-
sive poison ; I sat as if nailed fast ; my eyes
were fixed immovably upon her.
She sang ; no, it was not Annunciata*s voice,
it sounded feeble, inharmonious, and uncertain.
" There are certainly traces of a good school,"
said my neighbour ; " but there is not power
for it."
** She does not resemble,'* said I tremulously,
*' a namesake of hers, Annunciata, a young
Spaniard, who once made a great figure in
Naples and Rome ? *'
"Ah, yes," answered he ; *' it is she herself!
Seven or eight years ago she sat on the high
horse. Then she was young, and had a voice
like a Malibran; but now all the gilding is
\mi
otitis ralionally retire
around them. The ]
change, and that is tl
and then, commonly, t
expensively, and ill
dered, and then it goe
Yon have then seen he
asked he.
" Yes," replied i^ "
" It must be a faorril
deplored, however, for
Mid to have lost her ^
wckness, which must
years since ; but with tl
thing to do. Will you no;
ance sake ? I will help
lady ! " '^
He clapped loudly
followed his example, bo|
hissing, amid which the
THE IMPROVISATOBE. 269
form 9 aad with a burning glance ; she was
received with acclamations and the clapping
of hands. All the old recollections rushed into
my soul ; the transports of the Roman people
and their jubilations over Annunciata ; her
triumphal procession, an4 my strong love !
Bernardo, then, had also forsaken her : or, had
she not loved him ? I saw really how she bent
her head down to him and pressed her lips
upon his brow. He had forsaken her forsaken
her, then she became ill, and her beauty had
vanished ; it was that alone which he had
loved !
She again came forward in another scene
how suffering she looked, and how old! It
was a painted corpse which terrified me. I
was embittered against Bernardo, who could
forsake her for the loss of her beauty, and yet
it was that which had wounded me so deeply ;
the beauty of Annunciata's soul must have
been the same as before.
** Are you not well ?" inquired the stranger
from me, for I looked deadly pale.
** It is here so oppressively warm," said I,
rising, left the box, and went out into the fresh
air. I hastened through the narrow streets ; a
thousand emotions agitated my breast ; I knew
not where to go. I stood again outside the
'Vit'
means, no doubt, Aurt
part of the man withii
house ; but she is not y
"No, no," replied
who sang the part of th
The fellow measured
" The little thin won
she, I fency, is not accu
there may be good reai
gentleman the house ; t
thing for my trouble ! b
yet for an hour ; the oj
long as that."
" Wait, then, here for
gondola, and bade the
wherever he would. M
troubled ; I must yt oi
ciata,-ialk lo her, sh.
what could I do for her?
drove me on.
THE IMPROVISATORE. 271
He led me through narrow, dirty lanes, to
an old desolate house, in the uppermost garret
of which a light was burning ; he pointed up.
" Does she live there?" I exclaimed.
** I will lead Excellenza in," said he, and
pulled at the bell-cord.
** Who is there?" inquired a female voice.
" Marco Lugano!" replied he, and the door
opened.
It was dark night within ; the little lamp
before the image of the Madonna was gone
out, the glimmering wick alone shone like a
point of blood ; I kept close to him. A door
far above was opened, and we saw a ray of
light shine down towards us.
" Now she conies herself," said the man.
I slipped a few pieces of money into his
hand ; he thanked me a thousand times, and
hastened down, whilst I ascended the last
steps.
** Are there any new changes for to-morrow,
Marco Lugano?" I heard the voice inquire, it
was Annunciata ; she stood at the door ; a
little silken net was bound round her hair, and
a large wrapping dress was thrown loosely
about her.
" Do not fall, Marco," said she, and went be-
fore into the room, whilst I followed after her.
272 THE IMPR0VI3A,TOB.
' Who are you? What do you want here?"
exclaimed she, terrified, as she eaw me eater.
" .lesiis Maria!" cried she, and pressed her
hands before her face.
"A friend!" itammered I; " ao old ac-
qitaiittiince, to whom you once occasioned mach
jiiy, iDiich happiness, seeks you out, and ven-
tures to offer you his hand!"
Shf took her hands from her face, pale as
(Jeiith, itiid stood like a corpse ; and the daric,
intollocJual eyes glowed wildly. Older An-
iiiiiuiain had become, and bore the marks of
SLitfoj-iiig ; but there were still remains of that
ifiil lii'uutv. still ihat saaie soul-beaDiipg
THE IMPROVISATORE, 273
car ; intellect and heart are the worst dower
of nature ; they are forgotten for youth and
beauty, and the world is always right ! "
" You have been ill, Annunclata !" said I ;
and my lips trembled.
"Ill very ill, for almost a year; but it
was not the death of me/' said she, with a
bitter smile ; " youth died, however ; my voice
died ; and the public became dumb at the sight
of these two corpses in one body ! The phy-
sician said that they were only apparently
dead, and the body believed so. But the body
required clothing and food, and for two long
years gave all its wealth to purchase these,
then it must paint itself, and come forward as
if the dead were still living, but it came for-
ward as a ghost, and that people might not be
frightened at it, it shewed itself again in a
little theatre where few lamps were burning,
and it was half dark. But, even there they
observed that youth and voice were dead, were
buried corpses. Annunciata is dead, there
hangs her living image!" and she pointed to
the wall.
In that miserable chamber hung a picture, ft
half-length picture, in a rich gilded frame,
which made a strange contrast to the other
n2
274 THE IMPBOVISATOHK.
poveriy around. It was the picture of Annun-
ciaU, painted as Dido. It was her image u it
stood ill my soul; the intellectually beauti-
ful countenance, with pride on the brow. I
looked round upon the actual Annnnciata ; she
held her hands before her face and wept.
" Leave me, forget my existence, as tiie
Tvorld has forgotten it!" besought she, aod
motioned with her hands.
" I cannot," said I, "cannot thus leave you!
Madonna is good and merciful; Madonna will
help us all!"
" Antonio," said she, solemnly, *' can you
THE IMPROVISATORE. 275
She became silent ; but her eye was riveted
with a strangely searching expression upon me.
She seemed as if she wished to speak; the
lips moved, but she spoke not. A deep sigh
ascended from her breast; she cast her eyes
upwards, and again sunk them to the floor.
Her hand was passed over her forehead ; it was
as if a thought went through her soul, known
only to God and herself.
*' I have seen you again !" exclaimed she at
length; " seen you yet once more in this world!
I feel that you are a good, a noble man. May
you be happier than I have been ! The swan
has sung its last! Beauty has gone out of
flower ! I am quite alone in this world ! Of
the happy Annunciata there remains only the
picture on the wall ! I have now one prayer,"
said she, " one prayer, which you will not re-
fuse me ! Annunciata, who once delighted you,
beseeches you to grant it!*'
"All, all, I promise!" exclaimed I, and
pressed her hand to my lips.
** Regard it as a dream," said she, " that you
have seen me this evening! If we meet again
in the world, we do not know each other! Now
we part ! " She offered me, with these words,
her hand, and added, " In a better world we
TUB IHFBOViaATOBS.
sliaii iiioct again! Here our paths separate!
Varijwtl], Antonio, farewell!"
1 sank down, overcome by sorrow, before
lier. I knew nothing more ; she directed me
Itki; u child, anI I wept like ooe.
" I come! I come again!" said I, and left
lier.
" rarewell!" I beard her say; but I saw her
no more.
All Mas dark below and in the street.
"God, how miserable may Thy creatures
be!" exclaimed I in my anguish, and wept.
No bleep visited my eyes : it was a night of
THE IMPROVISATOBE. 277
ciata^ and to talk with her. It was the second
day after our meeting that I again mounted up
the narrow, dark stairs. The door was clpsed ;
I knocked on it, and an old woman opened a
side-door, and asked if I wished to see the
room, which was vacant. '* But it is quite too
little for you/' said she.
" But the singer?" inquired I.
*' She has flitted," answered the old woman ;
** flitted all away yesterday morning. Has set
off* on a journey, I fancy; it was done in a
mighty hurry."
" Do not you know where she is gone?" I
asked.
** No," returned she; ''she did not say a
word about that. But they are gone to Padua,
or Trieste, or Ferrara, or some such place, as,
indeed, there are so many." And with this she
opened the door, that I might see the empty
room.
I went to the theatre. The company had
yesterday given their last representation ; it
was now closed.
She was gone, the unfortunate Annunciata.
A bitter feeling took possession of my mind.
Bernardo, thought I, is, after all^ the cause of
her misfortune, of the whole direction which
my life has taken. Had it not been for him
278
THE IPROT1BATORB.
she Avoiild have loved me ; and her love would
tiave given to my mind a great strength and
developement. Had I at once followed ber, and
come forward as improvisatore, my triam[^,
perhaps, would baye united itself to hers; lU
might have been so different then ! Care would
not tlien have furrowed her brow !
CHAPTER XIII.
POGGIO AKKUNCIATA MARIA.
PooGio visited me, and inquired the reason
of my depression of mind ; but I could not
tell him the cause ; I could tell it to no one.
"Thou lookest really," said he, "as if the bad
sirocco blew upon thee ! Is it from th6 heart
that this hot air comes? The little bird within
there may be burned ; and, as it is no phoenix,
it may not be benefited therebyT iLmust now
and then have a flight out, pick the red berries
in the flcld, and the fine roses in the balcony,
to get itself right. My little bird does so,
and finds itself all the better for it ; has excel-
lent spirits, sings merrily into my blood and
my whole being. And it is that which gives
me the good-humour that I have ! Thou must
do the same also, and shalt do so! A poet
must have a sound, healthy bird in his breast
280 THE 1UPROTISATOB&.
a biril which kuows both roses and berries,
the sour and the 8weet, the cloudy heavens and
the clear ether!"
" That is a beautiful idea about a poet," said I.
*' Clirist became a man like the rest of us,"
said ho, " and descended even down into bell
to tliG damned ! The divine must unite itself to
the earlhly, and there will be produced there-
from a mighty result of But it is really
u magnificent lecture which I am beginning.
I ought, sure enough, to give one, I have pro-
miscA 10 do 80 ; but I fancy it was on another
subject. What is the meaning of it, when
lan nil at onco forsakes his friends: for
THE IMPROVISATORE. 281
a knight that is, a little Orlando Furioso!
But the conquest need not bring grey hairs to
any body ; it cannot be so difficult. However,
be that as it may, thou goest with me to dine
at the Podesta's. There are we invited, and I
have given my hand to take thee with me."
** Poggio," said I, gravely, " I will tell thee
the reasons why I have not been there ; why
I shall not go there so frequently."
I then told him what the banker's wife had
whispered to me ; how Venice talked about
its being my design to obtain the beautiful
Maria, who had a fortune and an estate in
Calabria.
" Nay," cried Poggio, " I would be very
glad/ indeed, if they would say that of me ; and
so thou wilt not go for that reason? Yes,
truly, people do say so, and I believe it my-
selfy because it is so natural. But whether
we are right or wrong, that is no reason why
thou sliouldest be uncivil to the family. Maria
is handsome, very handsome, has understand-
ing and feeling, and thou lovest her too, that
I have seen all along plainly enough."
" No, no," exclaimed I, *' my thoughts are
a very long way from love ! Maria resembles
a blind child whom I once saw, a child which
wonderAilly attracted me, as a child only
C8'J THE IMPR0VI8AT0BE.
coulil. That resemblance has often agiUled
nic ill Maria, and lias riveted my eye upon
lier.
" Maria alBO was once blind!" said Pc^gio,
in a somewhat serious tone; "she was blind
when she came from Greece ; her nncle, the
pliysician in Naples, performed an operalioo
on )iur eyes which restored her sight."
" My blind child was not Maria," said I.
" Thy blind child !" repeated Po^o, mer-
rily ; " it must be a very wonderful pen(,
liowcver, that blind child of thine which conld
set thee a-staring at Maria, and finding oat
THE IMPROVISATORS. 283
Will believe thee, and will contradict every
body that says thou art in love with Maria,
and that you are going to be married. Bat
don't go, and swear that you never will marry ;
perhaps the bridal is nearer than you imagine,
even within this very year it is quite possible."
** Thine, perhaps," replied I, '* but mine
never!"
'^ Nay^ so thou thinkest, then, that I can
get married?" exclaimed Poggio; "no, dear
friend, I have no means of keeping a wife ;
the pleasure would be much too expensive for
me."
" Thy marriage will take place before mine,"
replied I ; " perhaps even the handsome Maria
may be thine, and whilst Venice is saying it is
to me that she will give her hand, it is to thee."
" That would be badly done," replied he,
and laughed ; " no, I have given her a far
better husband than myself. Shall we lay a
wager," continued he, " that thou wilt be
married, either to Maria or some other lady ;
that thou wilt be a husband, and I an old
bachelor ? Two bottles of champagne we will
bet, which we will drink on thy wedding-day."
'' I dare do that," said I, and smiled.
I was obliged to go with him to the Po-
desta's. Signora Rosa scolded me, and so did
2iS4 THE IKPBOVISATOBB.
tUti I'uilesta. Maria was silent ; my eye rested
u]onhcr: Venice said, actually, tliat she wis
my briiJu Rosa and I toucbed glasses.
*' iNo lady may drink the health of the im-
provisatore," said Poggio ; " he has swora
eternal hatred agiunst the lair sex ; he never
will be married!"
" Eternal hatred !" returned I ; '* and wh*t
if 1 do not marry, cannot I honour and value
still that vrhich is beautiful in woman, that
which more than any thing else elevates and
softens every relation of life?"
" Not be married!" cried the Podesta; "that
THB IMPR0VI6AT0RE. 286
" You promised to send us Silvio PelBco's
works/' said Rosa, when we separated. " Do
not forget it, and come, like a good creature,
every day to us ; you have accustomed us to it,
and nobody in Venice can be more grateful
than we are."
I went I went right often ; for I felt how
much they loved me.
About a month had now passed since my
last conversation with Poggio, and I had not
been able to speak about Annunciata, I was,
therefore, obliged to trust to chance, which
often knits up the broken thread.
One evening as I was at the Podesta's, Ma-
ria seemed to me singularly thoughtful, a vivid
suffering seemed impressed upon her whole
being. I had been reading to her and her
aunt, and even during this her mind seemed
abstracted. Bosa left the room ; never had I
until now been alone with Maria, a strange,
inexplicable presentiment, as if of approaching
evil, filled my breast. I endeavoured to begin
a conversation about Silvio Pellico, about the
influence of political life upon the poetical
mind.
** Signore Abbe," said she, without appearing
to have heard a word of my remarks, for her
whole thoughts seemed to have been directed
28(i TBB IHPBOTI8ATOBB.
to one only subject. " Antooio," coDttntieil
siic, with a tremulous voice, whilst the Uood
mantled in her cheeks, " I must speak with
you. A dying person has made me give her
my hand tb at I would do so."
Slie paused, and I stood silent, strai^;
agitated by her words.
" We are actually not so very much of
strangers to each other," said she, " and yet
this moment is very terrible to me; " and ai
she sjoke, she became pale as death.
" GoiL in heaven!" exclaimed 1, " wbtt
has liappened?"
' i mhI's wonderAil iruiciance." said she. '
THE IMPR0VI9AT0RB. 287
** From whom does it come?" inquired I;
" may I not know that?"
"Eternal God!" said she, and left the
room.
I hastened home, and opened the little
packet. It contained many loose papers ; the
first I saw was in my own hand-writing, a little
verse written with pencil ; but underneath it
were marked in ink three black crosses, as
if they were the writing on a grave. It was
the poem which I had thrown to Annunciata's
feet the first time I saw her.
" Annunciata!" sighed I deeply: "Eternal
Mother of God ! it comes then from her ! "
Among the papers lay a sealed note, upon
which was inscribed, " To Antonio." I tore
it open, yes, it was from her. Half of it I
saw was written during the night of the even-
ing when I had seen her ; the latter part
appeared fresher ; it was extremely faint, and
written with a trembling hand. I read:
" I have seen thee, Antonio ! seen thee once
more. It was my only wish, and I dreaded it
for a nioment, even as one dreads death,
which, however, brings happiness. It is only
an hour since I saw thee. When thou readest
this it may be months not longer. It is said
that those who see themselves will shortly die.
^
28S 7HK tUPROTteATOKB,
Thou art tlie half of my soul ihau wasi my
thought thee have I seeii ! Thou ha-*t hmd
me in my hap[)iness, iu lay miiiory! Hiou
wast the ouly one who now would know iii
poor forsaken Annunciatut But 1, also, ile-
served it.
" I dare now speak thus to thee becaptt
when thou readest this I shall be no more. 1
loved thee loved theo from tite dan of nij
prosperity to my last moment. AladoiUM
willed not that that we should be uoitcil in
this world, and she divided us.
" I knew thy love for m l)fore that nnfor-
THB IMPR0VI8AT0RE. 289
your name was signed. She said that you
must have a passport and money ; I influenced
Bernardo to obtain this from his uncle the
senator. At that time my wish was a command,
my word had power. I obtained that which I
desired . Bernardo was also troubled about you.
*' He became perfectly well again, and he
loved me, I believe really that he honestly
loved me ; but you alone occupied all my
thoughts. He left Rome, and I, too, was
obliged to go to Naples. My old friend's illness
compelled me to remain for a month at Mola
di Gaeta. When at last we arrived at Naples,
I heard of a young improvisatore, Cenci^-who
had made his dehut on the very evening of my
arrival, I had a presentiment that it was you
I obtained certainty thereof. My old friend
wrote immediately to you, without giving our
name, though she mentioned our residence.
But you came not : she wrote again, without
the name, it is true, but you must have known
firom whom it was sent. She wrote, ' Come,
Antonio, the terror of the last unfortunate
moment in which we were together is now
well over ! Come quickly ! regard that as a
misunderstanding all can be made right
only do not delay to come.'
VOL. II. o
my soul vin. I did i
you up, and suffered se'
" My old friend diec
after her ; tliey had b
I Btood quite alooe in
Btill itB favourite ; waf
and brilliant in my pow
the last year of my life.
*' I fell sick on thi
very sick my heart
knew not that you thoi
on me, that you, at a ti
of the world deserted i
upon my bend. I laj
property which I had .
years In which I was a
was poor, and doubly
gone, sickness had enfe
on, almost seven year
you have seen my pc
THE IMPROVISATORS. 291
Streets of Rome. Bitter as my fate had my
thoughts also become !
'* You came to me. Like scales, all fell away
from my eyes, I felt that you had sincerely
loved me. You said to me that it was I who
bad driven you out into the world, you knew
not how I had loved you, bad stretched, as it
were, my arms after you! But I have seen
you your lips have glowed upon my hand as
in former, better times ! We are separated
I sit again alone in the little chamber, to-
morrow I must leave it perhaps Venice!
Be not anxious about me, Antonio ; Madonna
is good and merciful ! Think honestly of me,
it is the dead which beseeches this from you,
Annunciata, who has loved you, and prays
now, and in heaven for you !"
My tears streamed as I read this, it was as
if my heart would dissolve itself in weeping.
The remainder of the letter was written
some days later. It was the last parting :
** My want draws to an end ! Madonna be
praised for every joy which she has sent me,
praised be she also for every woe! In my
heart is death! the blood streams from it!
only once more and then it is all over.
* The most beautiful and the noblest maid
she will conie tells n
heart will Dot refuse t)
to ber vho stands o;
life and death ! She
" Farewell, Aotoni
earth, my first in he
for her who will be to
be ! There was vai
world's praise had set
would'et never have I
the Madonna would ni
" Farewell ! farewe
heart my suffering is
" Pray, also, thoi
The deepest pain h
overwhelmed I sat
which was wet with
had loved me I She
THE IMPB0VI8AT0RB. 293
in poverty and misery, and now she was dead
certainly dead ! The little note which I had
given to Fulvia, with the words, " I go to
Naples!" and which she had taken to Annun-
ciata, lay also in the packet of letters, together
with an opened letter from Bernardo, in which
he sent her his farewell, and announced to her
his determination to leave Rome and enter
into foreign service, but without saying what.
To Maria had she given the packet of letters
for me ; she had called Maria my bride. That
empty report had also reached ' Annunciata,
and she had believed it, had called Maria to
her. What could she have said to her ?
I recalled to mind with what anxiety Maria
had spoken to me, thus she also knew what
Venice imagined about us both. I had not
courage to talk to her about it, and yet I
must do it, she was really mine and Annun-
ciata's good angel.
I took a gondola, and was soon in the room
where Rosa and Maria sat together at their
work. Maria was embarrassed, nor had I
courage to say what solely and alone occupied
me. I answered at random to every question,
sorrow oppressed my soul; when the kind-
hearted Signora Rosa took my hand, and
said,
294 THE IMmOTlBATORE.
" Tliere is some great trouble on your mind
Itave confidence in us. [f we cnnnot coo-
sole, we can sorrow wilh a true friend."
" You really know every thing !"" exclaimed
I, giving voice to my distress,
" Maria, perhaps ! "" replied the aunt : "but
I knon- as good as nothing."
"Rrtsa!" said Muria, liescccliingiy, and
caught her hand.
" No. before yoti I Lave no seereta!" said
I ; " 1 will tell you pery thing."
And I then told them about my poor
childhood, Rbout Annnnciata, and roy fiight
to Nnples; hut when I saw Maria sitting wiUi
THE IMPROVISATOBE* 295
it said, besought her, by all the saints by her
own heart, to come to her. I accompanied
her in the gondola, but as she was to be alone,
I remained with the sisters whilst she went to
the bed of the dying."
'' I saw Annunciata," said Maria. '' You
have received that which she has commissioned
me to convey to you."
''And she said?" I asked.
" * Give that to Antonio, the improvisatore ;
but, unknown to any one.' She spoke of you,
spoke as a sister might as a good spirit
might speak; and I saw blood blood upon
her lips. She cast up her eyes in death,
and " Here Maria burst into tears.
I silently pressed her hand to my lips ;
thanked her for her pity, for her goodness, in
going to Annuuciata.
I hurried away, and, entering a church,
prayed for the dead.
Never did I meet with such great kindness
and friendship as from this moment in the
house of the Podesta. I was a beloved brother
to Rosa and Maria, who endeavoured to antici-
pate every wish ; even in the veriest trifles I
saw evidences of their solicitude for me.
I visited Annunciata's grave. The church-
yard was a floating ark, with high walls an
UK.I1 ujiiiK.eu IE, unqu
Maria and Rosa. I th
this kind attention.
How lovely was Mar
What a wonderful resen
image of beauty, Lara!
her eyes, it seemed to m
of the improbability, the
Aboot this time I re
*Fabiani. I was now in
my residence in Venice.
He thought that I shoi
time in this city, but v
But he left it quite to
seemed the best to mysel
That which detained m
that it was my city of son
greeted me on my arnvs
beat dream had dissolved
and Rosa were to mf. nffpoi
THB IMPR0TI8AT0RB. 297
part. In this my sorrow found its nourishment.
Yes, hence hence ! that was my resolve !
I wished to prepare Rosa and Maria for it ;
it was necessary that they should be made
acquainted with it. In the evening I was
sitting with them in the great hall, where the
balcony goes over the canal. Maria wished
that the servant should bring in the lamp, but
Rosa thought that it was much more charming
in the clear moonlight.
'* Sing to us, Maria," said she ; " sing to us
that beautiful song which thou learnt about the
Troglodite cave. Let Antonio hear it."
Maria sang a singular, quiet cradle-song to
a low, strange melody. The words and the
air melted one into the other, and revealed to
heart and thought the home of beauty under
the ethereally clear waves.
'* There is something so spiritual, so trans-
parent, in the whole song ! " said Rosa.
^' Thus must spirits reveal themselves out of
the body 1 " exclaimed I.
*^ Thus floats the world's beauty before the
blind ! " sighed Maria.
'* But then it is not really so beautiful when
the eyes can see it?" asked Rosa.
" Not so beautiful, and yet more b^utiful I "
replied Maria.
o2
41.' L1 1 1
then been flbout the ^
the warm aun, about I
broad-leaved cactuses,
"In Greece there are i
here," remarked she, !
a pause in her relatioi
"How the strong ai
continued she, "sugg
violets were blue t'
blue also, they told n
the violet taught m
and the sea must be.
dead, the spiritual ey
blind learn to believe
thing which they bi
this!''
I thought of Lara
her dark hair. The
trees led me also to 1
red gilliflowers grow
THE IMPR0VI8AT0RE. 299
I then told them that my departure was near,
and that I^ in a few days, must leave Venice.
'* You will leave us?" said Rosa, astonished.
*^ We had not the slightest idea of that."
" Will you not come again to Venice V
inquired Maria; ''come again to see your
friends."
" Yes, yes, certainly ! " exclaimed I. And
although that had not been my plan, I assured
them that, from Milan, I would return to Rome
by Venice. But did I myself believe so?
I visited Annunciata's grave, took a leaf
from the garland which hung there, as if I
should never return ; and that was the last time
that I came there ! That which the grave
preserved was dust. In my heart existed the
impression of its beauty, and the spirit dwelt
with Madonna, whose image it was. Annun-
ciata's grave, and the little room where Rosa
and Maria extended to me their hands at part-
ing, alone were witness to my tears and my
grief.
** May you find a noble wife who will supply
the loss which your heart has sustained ! " said
Rosa, at our parting. '' Bring her some time
to my arms. I know that I shall love her, as
you have taught me to love Annunciata ! "
m
ling eong about the roll
bird's song in tbe free !
panied ine in the gondt
The ladies waved their
from the balcony.
How much might ba
each other agun T Pog
excess ; bat I felt very p
natural. He pressed d
breast, and said that
iadustrionsly. "Thon v
beautiful bride, and do
wager!" eaid be.
*' How canst thou jest :
I. " Thou knowest my
We parted.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE REMARKABLE OBJECTS IK VERONA THE
CATHEDRAL OF MILAN THE MEETING AT THE
TRIUMPHAL ARCH OF NAPOLEON DREAM AND
REALITY THE BLUB OROTTO.
The carriage rolled away. I saw the green
Bronta, the weeping willows, and the distant
mountains. Towards evening I arrived in
Padua. The church of St. Antonios, with its
seven proud domes, saluted me in the clear
moonlight. All was animation and cheerful-
ness under the colonnade of the street; but I
felt myself a stranger and alone.
In the sunshine all appeared to me still
more unpleasing. Onward, yet farther on-
ward! Travelling enlivens and chases away
sorrow, thought I, and the carriage rolled
forward.
The country was all a great plain, but freshly
ruins, but in other pla
painted pictures of the I
remarked, that the vein
the new pictures, the ok
not to observe. It am
Perhaps, however, I saw
really was. Even the h
Madonna herself was ove
because the earthly coloi:
I passed through Vice
Palladio could cast no
troubled heart, on to V
the uities which attract
theatre ltd me back to
me of the Coliseum ; it ii
of that, more distinct, ai
barbarians. The spac
converted into wareboua
of the arena was erected
and boards, where a littli
THE IMPROYISATORB. 303
stone benches of the amphitheatre, where their
fathers had sat before them. In this little
theatre was acted " La Cenerentola.*' It was
the company with which Annunciata had
been. Aurelia performed the principal parts
in the opera. The whole was miserable and
melancholy to witness. The old, antique
theatre stood like a giant around the fragile
wooden booth. A contre-dance completely
drowned the few instruments; the public
applauded, and called for Aurelia. I hastened
away. Outside all was still. The great giant-
building cast a broad, dark shadow amid the
strong moonlight.
They told me of the families of the Capuleti
and Montecchi, whose strife divided two loving
hearts, which death again united the history
of Romeo and Juliet. I went up to the Palazzo
Capuleti, where Romeo, for the first time, saw
his Juliet, and danced with her. The house is
now an inn. I ascended the steps up which
Romeo had stolen to love and death. The
great dancing-hall stood there yet, with its
discoloured pictures on the walls, and the great
windows down to the floor ; but all around lay
hay and straw ; along the walls were ranged
lime-barrels, and in a corner were thrown
down horse-furniture and field-implements.
the better part, and )
tained it, and I regard
My heart throbbed ;
I bad no rest. To H
is now my home ; an
Towards the end of
No ! there I found tha
Venice, much more a
was alone, and yet wo
ance, would deliver no
troduction with which i
The gigantic theatre,
which range themselTes
another, the whole ima
is BO seldom filled, had i
desolate end oppressivi
and beard Donizetti's
the most honoured sii
for, and called for agi
that, like a gloomy m
THE IMPROVISATORE. 305
weep over her, and not she orer the world.
Loyely children danced in the ballet ; my heart
bled at their beauty. Never more will I go
to La Scala.
Alone, I wandered about the great city,
through the shadowy streets; alone 1 sat in
my chamber, and began to compose a tragedy,
" Leonardo da Vinci. ^* Here he had actually
lived ; here I had seen his immortal work,
" The Last Supper." The legend of his un-
fortunate love, of his beloved, from whom the
convent separated him, was indeed a re-echo
of my own life. I thought of Flaminia, of An-
nanciata, and wrote that which my heart
breathed. But I missed Poggio, missed Maria
and Rosa. My sick heart longed for their
affectionate attention and friendship. I wrote
to them, but received no answer, neither did
Poggio keep his beautiful promise of letters
and friendship, he was like all the rest. We
call them friends, and, in absence, knit our^
selves firmer to them !
I went daily to the cathedral of Milan, that
singular mountain which was torn out of the
rocks of Carrara. I saw the church for the
first time in the clear moonlight; dazzlingly
white stood the upper part of it in the in-
finitely blue ether. Round about, wherever I
through the painted
mystical world whi.
yes, it was a church
I had been a m
ascended the roof .
blazed upon its sbii
towers stood aloft, !
upon a mighty marl:
below ; all around i
statues of saints and
could not see from t
up just by the mi
which terminates the
Towards the north an
towards the south, tl
and between these an
if it were the flat Cam
into a blooming gardei
east, where Venice U
passage, in a long lin
THE IMPROYISATORB. 307
cbald not but remember the old story which I
had heard, as a child, on that evening, when I
went with my mother and Mariuceia from Lake
Nemi, where we had seen the bird of prey, and
where Fulvia had shewn herself; the story
which Angelina had told about the poor The-
rese of Olivano, who wasted away with care
and longing after the slender Giuseppe, and
how he was drawn from his northern journey
beyond the mountains, and how the old Fulvia
had cooked herbs in a copper vessel, which
she had made to simmer for many days over
the glowing coals, until Giuseppe was seized
upon by longing, and wascompelled to go home,
night and day ; to speed back without stop or
stay, to where her vessel was boiling with holy
herbs, and a lock of his and Therese's hair.
I felt that magic power within my breast
which drew me away, and which is called, by
the inhabitants of mountain regions, home-
sickness, but this it was not in me ; Venice
was really not my home. My mind was
strongly affected ; I felt, as it were, ill, and
descended from the roof of the church.
I found in my room a letter it was from
Poggio ; at length there was a letter ! It
appeared from the letter that he had written
an earlier one, which, however, I had not
308
THE lUPROVtSATOBB.
.^
Te6. Every thing was merry find well h
Venice, but Mnria hnd been ill very ill. ThBy
had all been Hitsiuue and iu great trouble, bat
DOW all was over ; ehe had lell her bed,
altlioiigh she did not venturo to go out yet
Hereupon Poggio joked with tiie, nnd rnqaircd
whether any young Milmiese lady hwd !
tivated me, and besought me not to forg't tlie
chani[mgne and onr wager.
The whole letter was full of fan and merri-
ment, very different to my own state of niuiA
and yet it gladdened nic ; it wa actually U if
I saw ihe happy, fun-loving i'oggio. Ilow in
the wurld caa we form a true iiukr menl of
THE IMPROYI8ATOEB. 309
in full activity. I went in through a hole in
the low wall of boards which enclosed the
whole of the unfinished building ; two large,
new horses of marble stood upon the ground,
the grass grew high above the pedestals, and
all around lay marble blocks and carved capi-
tals.
A stranger stood there with his guide, and
wrote down in a book the details which were
given him ; he looked like a man in about his
thirtieth year. I passed him ; he had two
Neapolitan orders on his coat ; he was looking
up at the building I knew him it was Ber-
nardo. He also saw me, sprang towards me,
clasped me in his arms, and laughed aloud.
'* Antonio ! " exclaimed he, ** thanks for the
last parting; it was, indeed, a merry parting,
with firing and effect! We are, however,
friends now, I imagine?"
An ice-cold sensation passed through my
blood.
" Bernardo," exclaimed I, "do we see one
another again in the north, and near the Alps ?"
' *^ Yes, and I come from the Alps," said he,
" from the glaciers and the avalanches !
I have seen the world's end up there in those
cold mountains!"
He then told roe that he had been the whole
^1
m
to the valley of (
Blanc, and the Jung
as he called it. " i
I knew," said he.
We went togethe
and back to the citj
now on his way to (
her parents, that he
becoming a sober, i
accompany him, am
my ear,
" You tell me m
about onr little Binj
You have now learni
to a young heart's
otherwise easily get
too dear tu ine for tl
It was impossible
ciata to him, for I f
her as I had done.
THB IHPROYI8ATORB. 311
taste for these things. Naples has been the
making of you ! Is it not so ? In about three
days I shall set off. Go with me, Antonio !
*' But I set off to-morrow morning also,
said I, involuntarily. I had not thought of
this before, but now the thing was said.
** Where?" inquired he,
'*To Venice '."replied I.
"But you can change your plan!" con-
tinued he, and pressed his own very much
upon me.
I assured him so strongly about the necessity
of my journey, that I also began to see myself
that I must go.
I had within myself neither peace nor rest,
and arranged every thing for my journey, as
if it had been for a long time my determination.
It was the invisible guidance of God*s won-
derful Providence which led me away from
Milan. It was impossible for me to sleep at
night ; I lay for some hours on my bed in a
short, wild fever-dream, in a state of waking
sickness. ** To Venice ! " cried the voice within
my breast.
I saw Bernardo for the last time ; bade him
to salute his bride for me : and then flew back
again whither I had come two months before.
312 THB IHPROTlflATOBB.
At gome momeDls it seemed to me as if I had
taken poison, which thus fomented in mj hlood.
All inexplicable anxiety drove me onwardi
tvlint coining evil was at hand ?
I njiproached Fuuna, saw again Venice, with
its grty walls, the tower nf St. Mark's, and
tlio Lagunes; and then all at once vanished
my stninge unrest, my yearning and anxiety,
and tli]-e arose within me another feeling,
what shall I call it? shame of myself, dia-
pleai^tire, dissatisfaction. I coald not com-
prehend what it was that I wanted here, felt
how fodlishly I bed behaved, and it seemed to
V body must sav so. and that e
THE IHPROYISATORB. .*3 1 3
ber ! I had said so a thousand times to myself;
a thousand times had assured Poggio, and every
one else nrho had said so, that I did not !
I saw once more the grey-green walls, the
lofty windows, and my heart trembled with
yearning. I entered the house. Solemnly and
silently the servant opened the door, expressed
no surprise at my arrival. It seemed to me that
quite another subject occupied him.
"The Podesta is always at home to you,
^ignore!" said he.
A stillness, as of death, reigned in the great
hall; the curtains were drawn. Here had
Des^demona lived, thought I; here, perhaps,
suffered ; and yet Othello suffered more severely
than she did. How came I now to think of
this old history?
I went to Rosa*s apartment ; here also the
curtains were drawn it was in a half-darkness,
and I felt again that strange anxiety which had
accompanied me in the whole journey, and had
driven me back to Venice. A trembling went
through all my limbs, and I was obliged to
support myself that I did not fall.
The Podesta then came in ; he embraced me,
and seemed glad to see me again. I inquired
after Maria and Rosa and it srcmed to me
that he became very grave.
VOL. II. p
lUI
doubted Iiis word ; ]tf
my blood, the wild
mind had increased, a
the period of its brei
which had operated
being, and had occasi
At the supper-tal
Maria ; nor was the 1
It was, he said, a law
him out of Borts, bu
sequence.
" Poggio 19 not an
either," said he. "A
ther J and you are
soiree ! we must see
u9 up! But you are [
he, all at once, anc
vanished from my si
state of unconsciousni
It was a fever, a vi
THE IMPROYISATORE. 315
with him, and that I should soon be well again.
Rosa, he said, should nurse me ; but he never
mentioned Maria.
1 was in a state of consciousness, as it were
between sleep and awake. After a time I
heard it said that the ladies had arrived, and
that I should soon see them ; and I did see
Rosa, but she was much troubled. It seemed to
me that she wept, but that, indeed, could not
be for me, for I felt myself already much
stronger.
It was evening ; there prevailed an anxious
silence around me, and yet a movement. They
did not answer my questions distinctly ; my
hearing seemed quickened, I heard that many
people were moving about in the hall below
nie, and I heard, too, the strokes of the oars of
many gondolas, and the reality was made known
to me as I half slumbered they imagined that
i was asleep.
Maria was dead. Poggio had mentioned to
me her illness, and had said that now she was
recovered, but a relapse had caused her death.
She was going to be buried this evening, but all
this they had concealed from me. Maria's
death, like an invisible power, had weighed
upon my life ! For her was that strange
anxiety which I had felt, but I had come too
BB IMPBOVIBATORB.
it' : I should beliold lier no more. Sfae was
o ill tlie world of epirito, to which she bad
lwin belonged, Rosa had certainly adorned
er cnHiu with violeis: the blue, fragnnl
oairs which she loved so much, now that she
li'jH with the flowers.
1 hiy iiiiiDovahly still, as in a death-sleep,
ii(! )iL'ard Rosa thank God for it : she then
cut iiway from me. There was not a single
reatiire in the room ; (he evening whs dark,
ml I t'fit my strength wonderfully invigorated.
kiH'w that in the church de' Frali was the
iirial jilace of the Podesta's family, and that
TH IMPROVISATORE. 317
He lighted candles, took out a bunch of
keys, and opened a little side-door ; our foot-
steps re-echoed through the lofty, silent vault.
He remained behind, and I went slowly through
the long empty passage ; a lamp burned feebly
and dimly upon the altar before the image of
the Madonna. The white marble statues around
the tomb of Canova stood like the dead in their
shrouds, silently and with uncertain outlines.
Before the principal altar three lights were
burning. I felt no anxiety, no pain it was as
if I myself belonged also to the dead, and that
I was now entering into ray own peculiar home.
I approached the altar ; the fragrance of violets
was diffused around ; the rays of light fell
from tL'^ lamp into the open coffin down upon
the dead. It was Maria ; she seemed to sleep ;
she lay like a marble image of beauty scattered
over with violets. The dark hair was bound
upon the forehead, and was adorned with a
bouquet of violets; the closed eyes, the image
of perfect peace and beauty, seized upon my
soul. It was Lara whom I saw, as she sat in
the ruins of the temple, when 1 impressed a
kiss u[K)n her brow ; but she was a dead mar-
ble statue, without life and warmth.
*' Lara!" exclaimed 1, *' in death thy closed
eyes, thy silent lips speak to me: I know
iiii imve icit ine
the lasit of whom my
for Annunciata, not
my soul for thee! it
which angela feel, the
thee ; and 1 did not 1
becaase it was more s
thought ! Never hav
Tentured to express it
the last, my heart's
slumber!"
I pressed a kiss upt
" My soul's bride!
woman will I give mi
well !"
I took off my ring, p
and lifted my eyes to
us. At that inonient
my blood, for it seeme
the dead returned the
no mistake. I fiKf .
THB IMPROVISATORS. 319
Horror, the horror of death, paralysed my arms
and my feet ; 1 could not escape.
'* I am cold," whispered a voice behind me.
*'Lara! Lara!*' 1 cried, and all was night
before my eyes, but it seemed to me that the
organ played a soft, touching melody. A hand
passed softly over my head ; rays of light forced
their way to my eyes ; every thing became so
clear, so bright !
" Antonio!" whispered Rosa, and I saw her.
The lamp burned upon the table, and beside
my bed lay a kneeling figure, and wept. I
saw then that I beheld reality before me, fliat
my horror was only that of wild fever-dream.
** Lara! Lara!" exclaimed L She pressed
her hands before her eyes. But what had I
said in my delirium? This thought stood
vividly before my remembrance, and I read
in Marians eyes that she had been witness to
my heart's confessions.
** The fever is over," whispered Rosa.
"Yes; I feel myself much better much
better," exclaimed I, and looked at Maria. She
rose up, and was about to leave the room.
" Do not go from me!" I prayed, and
stretched forth my hands after her.
She remained, and stood silently blushing
before me.
delirious dieam ! 1 feel
my Wood! My whole lif
a strange dream. We b
before! Yoii heard my
turn, at Capri. You km
feel it ; life is so short, w
each other our hands in 1
I extended my hand loi
it to her lips.
" I love thee ; have ab
I ; and, without a word,
beside me.
Love, says the Myth
order, and created the
loving heart creation ren
ria's eyes I drank in life
me. When a few days
alone in the little room, ^
breathed forth fragrant
THB IMPROVISATORE. 321
made no mistake ; Lara and Maria were one
and the same person.
** I have always loved thee !" said she. " Thy
song awoke longing and pain in my. breast,
when I was blind and solitary with my dreams,
and knew only the fragrance of the violets. And
the warm sun! how its beams burned thy
kiss into my forehead into my heart! The
blind possess only a spiritual world ; and in
that I beheld thee ! The night after I heard
thy improvisation in the Temple of Neptune, at
PfEstnm, 1 had a singular dream, which blended
itself with reality. A gipsy-woman had told
me my fortune that 1 should again receive my
sight. I dreamed about her, dreamed that she
said I must go with Angelo, my old foster-
father, and sail across the sea to Capri ; that
in the Witch's Cave I should receive again the
light of my eyes ; that the Angel of Life would
give me herbs, which, like Tobias's, should
enable my eyes again to behold God's world.
The dream was repeated again the same night.
I told itto Angelo, but he only shook his head.
"The next night, in the morning-hour, be
dreamed it himself, on which he said, ' Blessed
he the power ot Madonna ; the bad spirits must
even obey her!'
" We arose ; he spread the sail, and we flew
p2
the different countries of
" We boiled the herbs
my eyes. One day, ho
came to Piestum ; he c;
where I lay, and, afiecte
sire which I expressed
world, he promised me i
ue with him to Naples
great magnificence of 11
came very fond of me ;
other Hod a more beauti
soul. I remained with
Maria, after a beloved s
Greece.
" One day Angelo br
treasure, and said that il
he said, was at band ; '
his last strength in brin;
ritance ; and his words '
man. I saw him expiri
THE IMPROVISATORE. 323
and the treasure which he had brought. I knew
no more than that which he had said, that the
spirit in the glittering cave had given him this.
I knew that we had always lived in poverty.
Angelo could not be a pirate ^he was so pious ;
every little gift he divided with me."
I then told her how singularly her life's ad-
venture had blended itself with mine ; how I
had seen her with the old man in the wonder-
ful grotto. That the old man himself took the
heavy vessel I would not tell her, but I told
her that I gave her the herbs.
'* But," exclaimed she, *' the spirit sank into
the earth as it reached to me the herbs! So
Angelo told me."
" It appeared so to him," I returned ; '' I
was debilitated ; my feet could not sustain me ;
I sank on my knees, and then fainted among
the long green grass."
That wondrously glittering world in which
we had met was the indissoluble the firm knot
between the supernatural and the real.
" Our love is of the spiritual world ! '* ex-
claimed I ; '^ all our love tended towards the
world of spirits ; towards that we advance in
our earthly life ; wherefore, then, not believe
in it? It is precisely the great reality !" And I
324 THB IMPBOVnATOSI.
)irc^s('! Lara to my heart; she was beautiful at
i-lie WHS the first time I saw her.
" I recognised thee by thy Toice when I first
hecinl tliec in Venice," said she: " my heart
iiirpi'lU'd me towards thee; I &ncy that eren
in tin: church, before the face of the Mother of
Giiil, 1 should have fallen at thy feet, I saw
tlicc Irtg; learned to valne thee more and
nmri^; was conducted, as it were, a second
liiiiu into thy life's concerns, when Annnnciata
huiliii me as tby bride ! But thou repelledet
1IK' ; siiiit that thou wuuldst nerer love again!
nc'i cr wrtuldst gire thy hand to any woman I
iilioncd Lnra. Ptestum, or Car
THE IMPR0VI8AT0RE. 326
knew of the happiness of our love. How
gladly would 1 have told it to Poggio. He
had, during my sickness, visited me many
times during the day. I saw, that, he looked
extremely pale, when, after I had left my
room, I pressed him to my heart in the clear
light of the sun.
" Come to us this evening, Poggio," said
the Podesta to him ; " hut come without fail.
You will only find here the family, Antonio,
and two or three other friends."
All was festally arranged.
** It is really as if it were to be a name's
day," said Poggio.
The Podesta conducted him and the other
friends to the little chapel, where Lara gave
me her hand. A bouquet of blue violets was
fastened in her dark hair The blind girl of
Pcestum stood seeing, and doubly beautiful,
before me. She was mine.
All congratulated us. The rejoicing was
great. Poggio sang merrily, and drank health
upon health.
" I have lost my wager," said I, ** but I
lose it gladly, because my loss is the winning
of my happiness," and I impressed a kiss on
Lara's lips.
iiappiness ot love 19 a re
Two days after ilie bri
us from VeDice. We wi
bad been purchased for I
Poggio since the bridal
ceived a letter from him
" 1 won the wager, an
He was not to be met
some time my conjecture
had loved Lara. Poor I
of gladness, but though
heart
Francesca thought La
myeelf had won iiifinitel
she, Excellenza, and Fabi
choice. Habbas Dahdah
whole face as he congratu
Of the old acquatntani
in 1837, Uncle Peppo; he
Stens. whfrp fnr Ttinnv ...
THE IMPROVISATORE. 327
On the 6th of March, 1834, a great many
strangers were assembled in the Hotel at
Pagani, on the island of Capri. The attention
of all was attracted by a young Calabrian lady
of extraordinary beauty, whose lovely dark
eyes rested on her husband, who gave her his
arm. It was I and Lara. We had now been
married three happy years, and were visiting,
on a journey to Venice, the island of Capri,
where the most wonderful event of our life
occurred, and where it would clear itself up.
In one corner of the room stood an elderly
lady, and held a little child in her arms. A
foreign gentleman, tolerably tall and somewhat
pale, with strong features, and dressed in a blue
frock-coat, approached the child, laughed with
it, and was transported with its loveliness ; he
spoke French, but to the child a few Italian
words ; gave merry leaps to make it laugh ;
and then gave it his mouth to kiss. He asked
what was its name? and the old lady, my
beloved Rosa, said it was Annunciata.
** A lovely name!" said he, and kissed the
little one mine and Lara's.
I advanced to him ; he was Danish : there
was still a countryman of his in the room, a
grave little man, with an intelligent look, and
dark north.
We went down to th
of those iitile boats w
take out strangers to
island. Each boat held
sat at each end, and the
I saw the clear water
my remembrance with
The rower worked his oai
in which I and Lara wei
y'nh the speed of an
sight of the amphithe.
island, where the green i
trees crown the cliffs; i
wall rose up perpendicul
The water was blue as I
blue billows struck again
the blood-red sea-npples i
We were now on the
island, and saw only the
THE IMPROVI8ATORE. 329
"The Witch's Cave!" exclaimed I, and all
the recollections of it awoke in my soul.
"Yes, the Witch's Cave ! " said the rower;
"it was called so formerly; but now people
know what it is ! "
He then told us about the two Geiman
painters. Fries and Kopisch, who three years
before had ventured to swim into it, and thus
discovered the extraordinary beauty of the
place, which now all strangers visit.
We n eared the opening, which raised itself
scarcely more than an ell above the blue
shining sea. The rower took in his oars ; and
we were obliged to stretch ourselves out in the
boat, which he guided with his hands, and we
glided into a dark depth below the monstrous
rocks which were laved by the great Mediter-
ranean. I heard Lara breathe heavily; there
was something strangely fearful in it; but, in
hardly more than a moment, we were in an
immensely large vault, where all gleamed like
the ether. The water below us was like a blue
burning fire, which lighted up the whole. All
around was closed ; but below the water, the
little opening by which we had entered pro-
longed itself almost to the bottom of the sea, to
forty fathoms in depth, and expanded itself to
Every thing gave back
the rocky arch all si
consolidated air, and b
The water-drops which
motion of the oars, droj
been fresh roBe-teavea.
It was a fairy world
the mind, Lara folded h
were like mine. Hen
before here, had the
their treasure, when no
proach the spot. Now ^
appearance cleared up in
passed over into the spit
always here in human li
from the seed of the fl
mortal souls, appears a i
will not believe in miraci
The little opening to
shone like a clear star wi
THB IMPBOVIBATORB.
331
the cave. All was contemplation and devotion.
The Protestant, as well as the Catholic, felt
here that miracles still exist.
''The water rises!" said one of the seamen.
* We must go out, or else the opening will be
closed ; and then we shall have to remain here
till the water falls again ! "
We left the singularly beaming cave ; the
great open sea lay outstretched before us, and
behind us the dark opening of the Grotto
Azzurra.