File:The spell of Italy (1909) (14781012241).jpg

Identifier: spellofitaly00maso (find matches)
Title: The spell of Italy
Year: 1909 (1900s)
Authors: Mason, Caroline Atwater, 1853-1939
Subjects: Italy -- Description and travel
Publisher: Boston : L. C. Page & company
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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Meanwhile Fiha washaving her last Italian conversation lesson withSignor Aztalos, and her first one unchaperoned, as Iwas forced to hasten forward with a customs officer.Afterwards it occurred to me that neither appearedas fluent as usual and, when Signor Aztalos put usinto our cab, I perceived that he was plunged indespondency. He told me that he should see us in Naples, withmy permission, once at least, hopefully more. Alldepended upon the despatches awaiting him at hishotel. If they said Paris, he must go the nextday, if Athens, he might delay a Httle. You have been extremely kind, Mr. Aztalos, Isaid benignantly, I hope it will be Athens. He bowed ceremoniously and kissed my hand, buthis eyes sought Filias. I am sure they said Athens too. And now it was another day and our first day ofdiscovery, of adventure, of impressions on Italiansoil. Very possibly Filia was less excited by thefact than I, for she had not longed for Italy anddreamed of it so many years by half. Besides, I ob-
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Roses 17 serve in young things it is persons that awaken en-thusiasm in a higher degree than places. However,when circumstances permitted us to emerge on ourbalcony, — breakfast and toilet over, — and we sawlying below us the marvellously coloured crescent ofNaples, and beyond, the blue water of the bay withthe peninsula of Posilipo at our right and across,half hidden in opaline haze, the far reach of Sorrento,with Vesuvius purple and majestic brooding over all,we both surrendered without reserve or condition tothe spell of Italy. It is so beautiful that I cannot bear it, mur-mured Fiha. The air which blew gently from the bay upon ourfaces was limpid, fragrant with orange blossoms andof a blandness indescribable. For once a sense of utterperfection in the adjustment of the human machineto its environment mastered my sense. The glory andthe joy of the scene cancelled for an instant everypain of the past, eveiy fear for the future. Then Icomprehended those words of Goethe which here

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