|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 32
It amuses me to have my share of driving over these free and easy and
very narrow highroads. But A. has to do the collision-shouting and the
cries of "Via!"--the horse only smiles when he hears me do it.
Also did I tell you that on Saturday we two walked from here over to
Fiesole--six miles there, and ten back: for why?--because we chose to go
what Arthur calls "a bee-line across country," having thought we had
sighted a route from the top of Fiesole. But in the valley we lost it,
and after breaking our necks over precipices and our hearts down
cul-de-sacs that led nowhere, and losing all the ways that were pointed
out to us, for lack of a knowledge of the language, we came out again
into view of Florence about half a mile nearer than when we started and
proportionately far away from home. When he had got me thoroughly
foot-sore, Arthur remarked complacently, "The right way to see a country
is to lose yourself in it!" I didn't feel the truth of it then: but
applied to other things I perceive its wisdom. Dear heart, where I have
lost myself, what in all the world do I know so well as you?
Your most lost and loving.
LETTER XXXV.
Beloved: Rain swooped down on us from on high during the night, and the
country is cut into islands: the river from a rocky wriggling stream has
risen into a tawny, opaque torrent that roars with a voice a mile long and
is become quite unfordable. The little mill-stream just below has broken
its banks and poured itself away over the lower vineyards into the river;
a lot of the vines look sadly upset, generally unhinged and unstrung, yet
I am told the damage is really small. I hope so, for I enjoyed a real
lash-out of weather, after the changelessness of the long heat.
I have been down in Florence beginning to make my farewells to the many
things I have seen too little of. We start away for Venice about the end
of the week. At the Uffizi I seem to have found out all my future
favorites the first day, and very little new has come to me; but most of
them go on growing. The Raphael lady is quite wonderful; I think she was
in love with him, and her soul went into the painting though he himself
did not care for her; and she looks at you and says, "See a miracle: he
was able to paint this, and never knew that I loved him!" It is
wonderful that; but I suppose it can be done,--a soul pass into a work
and haunt it without its creator knowing anything about how it came
there. Always when I come across anything like that which has something
inner and rather mysterious, I tremble and want to get back to you. You
are the touchstone by which I must test everything that is a little new
and unfamiliar.
From now onwards, dearest, you must expect only cards for a time: it is
not settled yet whether we stop at Padua on our way in or our way out. I
am clamoring for Verona also; but that will be off our route, so Arthur
and I may go there alone for a couple of greedy days, which I fear will
only leave me dissatisfied and wishing I had had patience to depend on
coming again--perhaps with you!
Uncle N. has written of your numerous visits to him, and I understand you
have been very good in his direction. He does not speak of loneliness; and
with Anna and her brood next week or now, he will be as happy as his
temperament allows him to be when he has nothing to worry over.
I am proud to say I have gone brown without freckles. And are you really
as cheerful as you write yourself to be? Dearest and best, when is your
holiday to begin; and is it to be with me? Does anywhere on earth hold
that happiness for us both in the near future? I kiss you well, Beloved.
LETTER XXXVI.
Dearest: Venice is round me as I write! Well, I will not waste my Baedeker
knowledge on you,--you too can get a copy; and it is not the panoramic
view of things you will be wanting from me: it is my own particular Venice
I am to find out and send you. So first of all from the heart of it I send
you mine: when I have kissed you I will go on. My eyes have been seeing so
much that is new, I shall want a fresh vocabulary for it all. But mainly I
want to say, let us be here again together quickly, before we lose any
more of our youth or our two-handed hold on life. I get short of breath
thinking of it!
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|