Red
banners floated, children sang and shouted, the lakes of Venus and
Diana glittered in the sun. The pretty girls of Bellaggio, with their
coral necklaces, brought flowers to the "American countess," and
"hoped she would be as happy as she deserved." Whether this cautious
wish is fulfilled, I know not, but certainly I left all the glitter of
life behind at Como.
My days at Milan were not unmarked. I have known some happy hours, but
they all lead to sorrow; and not only the cups of wine, but of milk,
seem drugged with poison for me. It does not _seem_ to be my fault,
this Destiny; I do not court these things,--they come. I am a poor
magnet, with power to be wounded by the bodies I attract.
Leaving Milan, I had a brilliant day in Parma. I had not known
Correggio before; he deserves all his fame. I stood in the parlor
of the Abbess, the person for whom all was done, and Paradise seemed
opened by the nymph, upon her car of light, and the divine children
peeping through the vines. Sweet soul of love! I should weary of you,
too; but it was glorious that day.
I had another good day, too, crossing the Apennines. The young
crescent moon rose in orange twilight, just as I reached the highest
peak.
Pages:
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314