the complete writings-2-第56章

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　mano；　was　a　dirty　little　angel　in　rags；　and　her　great　soft　black　eyes　will　look　somebody　into　the　asylum　or　the　drunkard's　grave　in　time；　I　have　no　doubt。　　There　was　a　stout；　manly；　handsome　little　fellow　of　five　years；　who　established　himself　as　the　guide　and　friend　of　the　tallest　of　our　party。　　His　hat　was　nearly　gone；　he　was　sadly　out　of　repair　in　the　rear；　his　short　legs　made　the　act　of　walking　absurd；　but　he　trudged　up　the　hill　with　a　certain　dignity。　And　there　was　nothing　mercenary　about　his　attachment：　he　and　his　friend　got　upon　very　cordial　terms：　they　exchanged　gifts　of　shells　and　copper　coin；　but　nothing　was　said　about　pay。

Nearly　all　the　inhabitants；　young　and　old；　joined　us　in　lively　procession；　up　the　winding　road　of　three　quarters　of　a　mile；　to　the　town。　　At　the　deep　gate；　entering　between　thick　walls；　we　stopped　to　look　at　the　sea。　　The　crowd　and　clamor　at　our　landing　had　been　so　great　that　we　enjoyed　the　sight　of　the　quiet　old　woman　sitting　here　in　the　sun；　and　the　few　beggars　almost　too　lazy　to　stretch　out　their　hands。　　Within　the　gate　is　a　large　paved　square；　with　the　government　offices　and　the　tobacco…shop　on　one　side；　and　the　church　opposite；　between　them；　up　a　flight　of　broad　stone　steps；　is　the　Hotel　Tiberio。　Our　donkeys　walk　up　them　and　into　the　hotel。　　The　church　and　hotel　are　six　hundred　years　old；　the　hotel　was　a　villa　belonging　to　Joanna　II。　of　Naples。　　We　climb　to　the　roof　of　the　quaint　old　building；　and　sit　there　to　drink　in　the　strange　oriental　scene。　　The　landlord　says　it　is　like　Jaffa　or　Jerusalem。　　The　landlady；　an　Irish　woman　from　Devonshire；　says　it　is　six　francs　a　day。　　In　what　friendly　intercourse　the　neighbors　can　sit　on　these　flat　roofs！　　How　sightly　this　is；　and　yet　how　sheltered！　　To　the　east　is　the　height　where　Augustus；　and　after　him　Tiberius；　built　palaces。　　To　the　west；　up　that　vertical　wall；　by　means　of　five　hundred　steps　cut　in　the　face　of　the　rock；　we　go　to　reach　the　tableland　of　Anacapri；　the　primitive　village　of　that　name；　hidden　from　view　here；　the　medieval　castle　of　Barbarossa；　which　hangs　over　a　frightful　precipice；　and　the　height　of　Monte　Solaro。　　The　island　is　everywhere　strewn　with　Roman　ruins；　and　with　faint　traces　of　the　Greeks。

Capri　turns　out　not　to　be　a　barren　rock。　　Broken　and　picturesque　as　it　is；　it　is　yet　covered　with　vegetation。　　There　is　not　a　foot；　one　might　say　a　point；　of　soil　that　does　not　bear　something；　and　there　is　not　a　niche　in　the　rock；　where　a　scrap　of　dirt　will　stay；　that　is　not　made　useful。　　The　whole　island　is　terraced。　　The　most　wonderful　thing　about　it；　after　all；　is　its　masonry。　　You　come　to　think；　after　a　time；　that　the　island　is　not　natural　rock；　but　a　mass　of　masonry。　　If　the　labor　that　has　been　expended　here；　only　to　erect　platforms　for　the　soil　to　rest　on；　had　been　given　to　our　country；　it　would　have　built　half　a　dozen　Pacific　railways；　and　cut　a　canal　through　the　Isthmus。

But　the　Blue　Grotto？　　Oh；　yes！　　Is　it　so　blue？　　That　depends　upon　the　time　of　day；　the　sun；　the　clouds；　and　something　upon　the　person　who　enters　it。　　It　is　frightfully　blue　to　some。　　We　bend　down　in　our　rowboat；　slide　into　the　narrow　opening　which　is　three　feet　high；　and　passing　into　the　spacious　cavern；　remain　there　for　half　an　hour。　　It　is；　to　be　sure；　forty　feet　high；　and　a　hundred　by　a　hundred　and　fifty　in　extent；　with　an　arched　roof；　and　clear　water　for　a　floor。　　The　water　appears　to　be　as　deep　as　the　roof　is　high；　and　is　of　a　light；　beautiful　blue；　in　contrast　with　the　deep　blue　of　the　bay。　　At　the　entrance　the　water　is　illuminated；　and　there　is　a　pleasant；　mild　light　within：　one　has　there　a　novel　subterranean　sensation；　but　it　did　not　remind　me　of　anything　I　have　seen　in　the　〃Arabian　Nights。〃　I　have　seen　pictures　of　it　that　were　much　finer。

As　we　rowed　close　to　the　precipice　in　returning；　I　saw　many　similar　openings；　not　so　deep；　and　perhaps　only　sham　openings；　and　the　water…line　was　fretted　to　honeycomb　by　the　eating　waves。　　Beneath　the　water…line；　and　revealed　here　and　there　when　the　waves　receded；　was　a　line　of　bright　red　coral。




THE　STORY　OF　FIAMMETTA

At　vespers　on　the　fete　of　St。　Antonino；　and　in　his　church；　I　saw　the　Signorina　Fiammetta。　　I　stood　leaning　against　a　marble　pillar　near　the　altar…steps；　during　the　service；　when　I　saw　the　young　girl　kneeling　on　the　pavement　in　act　of　prayer。　　Her　black　lace　veil　had　fallen　a　little　back　from　her　head；　and　there　was　something　in　her　modest　attitude　and　graceful　figure　that　made　her　conspicuous　among　all　her　kneeling　companions；　with　their　gay　kerchiefs　and　bright　gowns。　　When　she　rose　and　sat　down；　with　folded　hands　and　eyes　downcast；　there　was　something　so　pensive　in　her　subdued　mien　that　I　could　not　take　my　eyes　from　her。　　To　say　that　she　had　the　rich　olive　complexion；　with　the　gold　struggling　through；　large；　lustrous　black　eyes；　and　harmonious　features；　is　only　to　make　a　weak　photograph；　when　I　should　paint　a　picture　in　colors　and　infuse　it　with　the　sweet　loveliness　of　a　maiden　on　the　way　to　sainthood。　　I　was　sure　that　I　had　seen　her　before；　looking　down　from　the　balcony　of　a　villa　just　beyond　the　Roman　wall；　for　the　face　was　not　one　that　even　the　most　unimpressible　idler　would　forget。　　I　was　sure　that；　young　as　she　was；　she　had　already　a　history；　had　lived　her　life；　and　now　walked　amid　these　groves　and　old　streets　in　a　dream。　　The　story　which　I　heard　is　not　long。

In　the　drawing…room　of　the　Villa　Nardi　was　shown；　and　offered　for　sale；　an　enormous　counterpane；　crocheted　in　white　cotton。　　Loop　by　loop；　it　must　have　been　an　immense　labor　to　knit　it；　for　it　was　fashioned　in　pretty　devices；　and　when　spread　out　was　rich　and　showy　enough　for　the　royal　bed　of　a　princess。　　It　had　been　crocheted　by　Fiammetta　for　her　marriage；　the　only　portion　the　poor　child　could　bring　to　that　sacrament。　　Alas！　　the　wedding　was　never　to　be；　and　the　rich　work；　into　which　her　delicate　fingers　had　knit　so　many　maiden　dreams　and　hopes　and　fears；　was　offered　for　sale　in　the　resort　of　strangers。　　It　could　not　have　been　want　only　that　induced　her　to　put　this　piece　of　work　in　the　market；　but　the　feeling；　also；　that　the　time　never　again　could　return　when　she　would　have　need　of　it。　　I　had　no　desire　to　purchase　such　a　melancholy　coverlet；　but　I　could　well　enough　fancy　why　she　would　wish　to　part　with　what　must　be　rather　a　pall　than　a　decoration　in　her　little　chamber。

Fiammetta　lived　with　her　mother　in　a　little　villa；　the　roof　of　which　is　in　sight　from　my　sunny　terrace　in　the　Villa　Nardi；　just　to　the　left　of　the　square　old　convent　tower；　rising　there　out　of　the　silver　olive…boughs；a　tumble…down　sort　of　villa；　with　a　flat　roof　and　odd　angles　and　parapets；　in　the　midst　of　a　thrifty　but　small　grove　of　lemons　and　oranges。　　They　were　poor　enough；　or　would　be　in　any　country　where　physical　wants　are　greater　than　here；　and　yet　did　not　belong　to　that　lowest　class；　the　young　girls　of　which　are　little　more　than　beasts　of　burden；　accustomed　to　act　as　porters；　bearing　about　on　their　heads　great　loads　of　stone；　wood；　water；　and　baskets　of　oranges　in　the　shipping　season。　　She　could　not　have　been　forced　to　such　labor；　or　she　never　would　have　had　the　time　to　work　that　wonderful　coverlet。

Giuseppe　was　an　honest　and　rather　handsome　young　fellow　of　Sorrento；　industrious　and　good…natured；　who　did　not　bother　his　head　much　about　learning。　　He　was；　however；　a　skillful　workman　in　the　celebrated　inlaid　and　mosaic　woodwork　of　the　place；　and；　it　is　said；　had　even　invented　some　new　figures　for　the　inlaid　pictures　in　colored　woods。　He　had　a　little　fancy　for　the　sea　as　well；　and　liked　to　pull　an　oar　over　to　Capri　on　occasion；　by　which　he　could　earn　a　few　francs　easier　than　he　could　saw　them　out　of　the　orangewood。　　For　the　stupid　fellow；　who　could　not　read　a　word　in　his　prayer…book；　had　an　idea　of　thrift　in　his　head；　and　already；　I　suspect；　was　laying　up　liras　with　an　object。　　There　are　one　or　two　dandies　in　Sorrento　who　attempt　to　dress　as　they　do　in　Naples。　　Giuseppe　was　not　one　of　these；　but　there　was　not　a　gayer　or　handsomer　gallant　than　he　on　Sunday；　or　one　more　looked　at　by　the　Sorrento　girls；　when　he　had　on　his　clean　suit　and　his　fresh　red　Phrygian　cap。　　At　least　the　good　Fiammetta　thought　so；　when　she　met　him　at　church；　though　I　feel　sure　she　did　no