After exchange of greetings, her first words were of the
flowers, each of which was symbolic to her of emotion, and associated
with the memory of some friend. I remember her references only to the
Daphne Odora, the Provence Rose, the sweet-scented Verbena, and the
Heliotrope; the latter being her chosen emblem, true bride of the sun
that it is.
From flowers she passed to engravings hanging round the room. 'Here,'
said she, 'are Dante and Beatrice.
"Approach, and know that I am Beatrice.
The power of ancient love was strong within me."
'She is beautiful enough, is not she, for that higher moment?
But Dante! Yet who could paint a Dante,--and Dante in heaven?
They give but his shadow, as he walked in the forest-maze of
earth. Then here is the Madonna del Pesce; not divine, like
the Foligno, not deeply maternal, like the Seggiola, not
the beaetified "Mother of God" of the Dresden gallery, but
graceful, and "not too bright and good for human nature's
daily food." And here is Raphael himself, the young seer of
beauty, with eyes softly contemplative, yet lit with central
fires,' &c.
There were gems, too, and medallions and seals, to be examined, each
enigmatical, and each blended by remembrances with some fair hour of
her past life.
Pages:
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51