of all, we will take a little walk to let the wind blow on thy red eyes, and then we will visit Signora Maretti; she will either laugh thee quite gay again, or else weep with thee, till thou art tired; she can do that better than I can."

Thus for some time we wandered up and down the great street, and then went to the house of Maretti.

66 At length you are come one evening out of the common course," exclaimed Santa kindly as we entered.

"Signor Antonio is in his elegiac mood; it must be removed by mirth, and to whom could I bring him better than to you. To-morrow we drive to Herculaneum and Pompeii, ascend Vesuvius: if we could only be blessed with an eruption."

Carpe Diem," broke forth from Maretti. "I should delight to make the journey with you, but not to ascend Vesuvius; only to see how it goes with the excavations in Pompeii. I have just received from there some little glass ornaments of various colors; these I have arranged according to their shades, and have within an opusculum on them. You must see these treasures," said he, turning to Federigo, "and give me a hint with regard to color. And you," continued he, clapping me on the shoulder, "you shall begin to be merry, and then afterwards we will empty a glass of Falernian, and sing with Horace,

""Ornatus viridi tempora pampino,

Liber vota bonos ducit ad exitus.'"

I remained alone with Santa.

"Have you written anything lately?" inquired she. "You look as if you had been composing one of those beautiful pieces which so wonderfully speak to the heart. I have thought many times on you and your Tasso, and have felt myself quite pensive, although you very well know that I do not belong to the weeping sisterhood. Be now in a good humor. Look at me; you say nothing complimentary; you see nothing, say nothing about my new dress. See how becoming it is; a poet must have an eye for everything. 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 e; 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 Falernian wine, and that directly; you can drink of it again with the other two."

I refused, and attempted to begin an ordinary conversation on the events of the day; but I found, only 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."

"You will not leave me?" said she, drawing me back to my chair, and looking sympathizingly and anxiously into my face. "What has happened? Have confidence in me. I mean it so honestly and so kindly towards you! Do not let my petulance wound you. It is only my nature. Tell me what has happened; have you had letters? Is Bernardo

dead?"

"No, God be praised!" returned I; "it is another thing, quite another."

I wished not to have spoken of Excellenza's letter; yet, in my distress, I disclosed everything to her quite open-heartedly, and with tears in her eyes she besought me not to be troubled.

"I am thrust out of the world," said I ; "forsaken by every one; nobody-nobody at all loves me."

"Yes, Antonio," exclaimed she, "you are loved. You are handsome; you are good; my husband loves you, and I love you; and with these words I felt a burning kiss upon my brow, her arm clasped my neck, and her cheek touched mine. My blood became like flame, a trembling went through my limbs; it was as if my breath stood still; never had I felt so before; the door opened, and Federigo and Maretti entered. "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 fainted in my arms, but now he is better; is 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.

66

Quæ sit hiems Veliæ, quod cœlum, Vala Salerni!" said Maretti. "How is it with heart and head, signor? What has he now done, the ferus Cupido, who always sharpens the bloody arrow on the glowing whetstone?"

The Falernian wine sparkled in the glass. Santa clinked her glass against mine, and said, with an extraordinary expression, "To better times! "

"To better times!" repeated Federigo. "One must never despair."

Maretti touched his glass to mine also, and nodded, "To better times!"

Santa laughed aloud, and stroked my cheek.

CHAPTER XVII.

RAMBLE THROUGH HERCULANEUM AND POMPEII.

THE

EVENING ON VESUVIUS.

HE next morning Federigo fetched me. Maretti joined us. Fresh morning breezes blew from the sea, and our carriage rolled round the bay from Naples to Herculaneum. "How the smoke whirls from Vesuvius!" said Federigo, and pointed to the mountain. "We shall have a glorious evening."

"The smoke whirled in another manner," said Maretti ; "it went like the shadow of a cloud over the whole country, anno 79 post Christum. At that time the cities which we now go to visit were buried under lava and ashes

Exactly where the suburbs of Naples end, begin the cities Sant Giovanni, Portici, and Recina, which lie so close that they may be regarded as one city. We had reached the goal before I was aware of it, and drew up before a house in Recina. Under the street here, under the whole city, lies Herculaneum buried. Lava and ashes covered the whole city in a few hours; people forgot its existence, and the city of Recina rose above it.

We entered the nearest house, in the garden of which was a large open well, through which a spiral staircase descended. "See you, gentlemen," said Maretti; "it was post Christum 1720 that the Prince of Elbœuf had this well dug. As soon as they had descended a few feet, they found statues; and so the excavation was forbidden (mirabile dictu!) For thirty years not a hand moved itself before Charles of Spain came here, ordered the well to be dug deeper, and they stood upon a great 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 theatre of Herculaneum.

Our guides kindled a light for each of us to carry, and we descended to the depth of the well, and now stood upon the seats on which the spectators, seventeen 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!

A little low door, close by, led us into a large, spacious passage. We descended to the orchestra; saw there the different apartments for the different musicians, the dressingroom, and the scenes themselves. The greatness of the whole deeply impressed me. It could be lighted for us only piecemeal, yet it seemed to me much larger than the theatre of San Carlo. Silent, dark, and desolate, lay all around us, and a world rioted above us. As we imagine that a vanished race may, as spirits, enter into our scene of life and action, seemed I now to have stepped out of our age, and to be wandering, like a ghost, in the far-off antiquity. I literally longed for daylight, and we soon breathed again the warm air.

We walked straight forward along the street of Recina, and an excavation lay before us, but much less than the former. This was all the remains of Herculaneum on which the sun shone. We saw one single street, houses with small, narrow windows, red and blue painted walls; very little in comparison with that which awaited us in Pompeii.

Recina lay behind us, and now we saw around us a plain, which seemed like a pitch-black, foaming sea, which had run into iron dross. Yet here buildings had raised themselves; little vine gardens grew verdantly, and the church was halfburied in this land of death.

"I was a

and puer, as one may say. The black dross over which

"I myself saw this destruction!" said Maretti. child, in the age between lacteus Never shall I forget that day! we are now rolling was a glowing river of fire. I saw how it rolled down from the mountain towards Torre del Greco. My father (beati sunt mortui) has even plucked ripe grapes for me where now lies the black, stone-hardened rind. The lights burned blue within the church, and the outer walls were red from the strong glow of fire. The vineyards were buried, but the church stood like a floating ark upon this glowing sea of fire!"