LXXVI.

Why I thank God for that is no great matter,
I have my reasons, you no doubt suppose,
And as, perhaps, they would not highly flatter,
I'll keep them for my life (to come) in prose;
I fear I have a little turn for satire,

And yet methinks the older that one grows
Inclines us more to laugh than scold, though laughter
Leaves us so doubly serious shortly after.
LXXVII.

Our Laura's Turk still kept his eyes upon her,
Less in the Mussulman than Christian way,
Which seems to say, "Madam, I do you honour,

And while I please to stare, you'll please to stay;"
Could staring win a woman, this had won her,

But Laura could not thus be led astray,
She had stood fire too long and well, to boggle
Even at this stranger's most outlandish ogle.
LXXVII.

The morning now was on the point of breaking,
A turn of time at which I would advise
Ladies who have been dancing, or partaking
In any other kind of exercise;

To make their preparations for forsaking

The ball-room ere the sun begins to rise,
Because when once the lamps and candles fail,
His blushes make them look a little pale.
LXXIX.

I've seen some balls and revels in my time,
And staid them over for some silly reason,
And then I looked, (I hope it was no crime,)

To see what lady best stood out the season;
And though I've seen some thousands in their prime,
Lovely and pleasing, and who still may please on,
I never saw but one, (the stars withdrawn,)
Whose bloom could after dancing dare the dawn.
LXXX.

The name of this Aurora I'll not mention,

Although I might, for she was nought to me
More than that patent work of God's invention,
A charming woman, whom we like to see;
But writing names would merit reprehension,
Yet if you like to find out this fair she,
At the next London or Parisian ball
You still may mark her cheek, out-blooming all,
LXXXI.

Laura, who knew it would not do at all

To meet the daylight after seven hours sitting Among three thousand people at a ball,

To make her curtsey thought it right and fitting;
The count was at her elbow with her shawl,

And they the room were on the point of quitting,
When lo! those cursed gondoliers had got
Just in the very place where they should not.
LXXXII.

In this they're like our coachmen, and the cause
Is much the same-the crowd, and pulling, hauling,
With blasphemies enough to break their jaws,

They make a never intermitted bawling.
At home, our Bow-street gemmen keep the laws,
And here a sentry stands within your calling;
But, for all that, there is a deal of swearing,
And nauseous words past mentioning or bearing.
LXXXIII.

The Count and Laura found their boat at last,
And homeward floated o'er the silent tide,
Discussing all the dances gone and past;

The dancers and their dresses, too, beside;
Some little scandals eke: but all aghast

(As to their palace stairs the rowers glide,) Sate Laura, with a kind of comick horrour, When lo! the Mussulman was there before her. LXXXIV.

"Sir," said the Count, with brow exceeding grave, "Your unexpected presence here will make

"It necessary for myself to crave

"Its import? But perhaps 'tis a mistake;

"I hope it is so; and at once to wave

"All compliment, I hope so for your sake;
You understand my meaning, or you shall."
"Sir," (quoth the Turk) "tis no mistake at all.
LXXXV.

"That lady is my wife!" Much wonder paints
The lady's changing cheek, as well it might;
But where an Englishwoman sometimes faints,
Italian females don't do so outright;

They only call a little on their sa:nts,

And then come to themselves, almost or quite; Which saves much hartshorn, salts, & sprinkling faces, And cutting stays, as usual in such cases,

LXXXVI.

She said,-what could she say? Why not a word:
But the Count courteously invited in
The stranger, much appeased by what he heard
"Such things perhaps, we'd best discuss within,"
Said he, "don't let us make ourselves absurd
"In publick, by a scene, nor raise a din,
"For then the chief and only satisfaction
"Will be much quizzing on the whole transaction."
LXXXVII

They entered, and for coffee called, it came,
A beverage for Turks and Christians both,
Although the way they make it's not the same.
Now Laura, much recovered, or less loth.

To speak, cries" Beppo! what's your pagan name?
"Bless me! your beard is of amazing growth!
"And how came you to keep away so long!
"Are you not sensible 'twas very wrong?

LXXXVIII.

"And are you really, truly, now a Turk?
"With any other women did you wive?
"Is't true they use their fingers for a fork?
"Well, that's the prettiest shawl-as I'm alive?
"You'll give it me? They say you eat no pork.
"And how so many years did you contrive
"To-Bless me! did I ever? No, I never
"Saw a man grown so yellow! How's your liver?
LXXXIX.

"Beppo! that beard of yours becomes you not;
"It shall be shaved before you're a day older;
"Why do you wear it? Oh! I had forgot-

"Pray don't you think the weather here is colder? "How do I look? You shan't stir from this spot

1

"In that queer dress, for fear that some beholder "Should find you out, and make the story known. "How short your hair is! Lord! how gray it's grown!"*

XC.

What answer Beppo made to these demands,
Is more than I know. He was cast away
About where Troy stood once, and nothing stands; **
Became a slave of course, and for his pay

Had bread and bastinadoes, till some bands
Of pirates landing in a neighbouring bay,
He joined the rogues and prospered, and became
A renegado of indifferent fame.
XCL.

But he grew rich, and with his riches grew so
Keen the desire to see his home again,
He thought himself in duty bound to do so,
And not be always thieving on the main;
Lonely he felt, at times, as Robin Crusoe,

And so he hired a vessel come from Spain,
Bound for Corfu; she was a fine polacca,
Manned with twelve hands, and laden with tobacéo.
XCII.

Himself, and much (Heaven knows how gotten) cash,
He then embarked, with risk of life and limb,
And got clear off, although the attempt was rash ;=
He said that Providence protected him-
For my part, I say nothing, lest we clash

In our opinions-well, the ship was trim
Set sail, and kept her reckoning fairly on,
Except three days of calm when off Cape Bonn.
XCIII.

They reached the island, he transferred his lading,
And self and live-stock to another bottom,
And passed for a true Turkey-merchant, trading
With goods of various names, but I've forgot 'em.
However, he got off by this evading,

Or else the people would perhaps have shot him;
And thus at Venice landed to reclaim
His wife, religion, house, and Christian name.
XCIV.

His wife received, the patriarch re-baptized him,
(He made the church a present by the way ;)
He then threw off the garments which disguised him,
And borrow'd the Counts small-clothes for a day:
His friends the more for his long absence prized him,
Finding he'd wherewithal to make them gay,
With dinners, where he oft became the laugh of them,
For stories, but I don't believe the half of them.
XCV.

Whate'er his youth had suffered, his old age
With wealth and talking made him some amends;
Though Laura sometimes put him in a rage,
I've heard the Count and he were always friends.
My pen is at the bottom of a page,

Which being finished, here the story ends;
'Tis to be wished it had been sooner done,
But stories somehow lengthen when begun..

MAGAZINE:

A REPOSITORY OF ORIGINAL PAPERS, & SELECTIONS FROM

ENGLISH MAGAZINES.

Published every Saturday Morning, at Robinson's Circulating Library, No. 94, Baltimore-street.

VOL. 1.] BALTIMORE, SATURDAY, AUGUST 1, 1818.

[No. 3.

EXTRACTS FROM THE CORRESPONDENCE OF A TRAVELLER VISITING ITALY. [Continued from p. 19.]

From the Edinburgh Magazine.

-

Florence, Oct. 16th 1817. er of the theatre) was the animating VISITED also at Milan Il C. soul and voice of these grotesque R. Palazzo della Scienze e belli images. He had to speak and moArti di Brera, a celebrated esta- dulate his voice in the characters of blishment, and one of the finest nine or ten different dramatis peredifices in that city. As our time sono, male and female: He was, of was limited I could not visit any course, invisible. After an overture other parts of this palace but those from a most miserable orchestra, in which contain the paintings and sta- which there was neither time nor tues, and casts in plaster, the col- tune, nor any thing like tolerable lection is admirable, some of the musick, the curtain (on which was a works of the greatest masters are very clever painting) drew up, and deposited here in a number of apart- a little deformed black, in a suit of ments dedicated to different styles brown, with scarlet stockings, and and stages of the pictorial art; and there are some very ancient paintings in fresco. There were several artists at work in the rooms making copies of some of the paintings. The casts are very fine, and there are a few heads and figures in marble by modern artists of celebrity. This academy of painting and sculpture has produced some excellent ar

tists.

immense cocked hat, moved forward upon the stage, and began a soliloquy, which was interrupted by the entrance of another strange figure, (a female,) who entered into a smart dialogue with the little black, whose gestures, grimaces. and contortions of limb were amazingly absurd, although perfectly in unison, in point of time and Italian manner, with the recitation which seemed to proAmong other sights in Milan, I ceed from his inflexible lips. Had went to Girolamo's theatre of pup- it not been for a certain awkward pets, (le Marionette,) and laughed rigidity in their sidelong motions, more than at any exhibition I ever when moving from one part of the beheld. You may perhaps think this stage to another, and for the visibiwas childish enough entertainment; lity of the wires attached to their so it was. But you don't know it, heads, and descending from the nor have you ever seen any thing roof above their beads, one might like it, nor any thing so superlatively have been deceived for a little into ludicrous. The puppets were about a belief of the actual existence of five feet (or perhaps less) in height; these strange personages. They and Girolamo (the master and own- walked about very clumsily, to be MAG. VOL. I.

3

sure;

but then they bowed and curt- cipal streets of this city are very sied, and flourished with their arms, well calculated to shelter foot-pasand twisted themselves about, with sengers from the rains and from as much energy and propriety of ef- the scorching sun of that climate. fect as most of those worthy living Ever since we began to ascend puppets who infest the stages of the the Simplon the weather has been little theatres in London. There very cold. Here, at this moment, were two skeletons who played their it is as cold as it is in Scotland at parts admirably. They glided about, the same season. My fingers are and accompanied their hollow voic- quite benumbed. Yesterday morned speeches with excellent gesticu- ing, about nine o'clock, we arrived lations, while their fleshless jaws here, having been two days and a moved quite naturally. Then to half in crossing the Appenines, in crown all, there was a ballet of about shocking weather, misty, rainy, a dozen of these puppets; and they and very cold. By the by, a few danced with all the agility of Ves- years ago, there was a tremendous tris, and cut much higher than ever troop of banditti on these mountains, he did in his life. They actually near Pietra Mala, at which we restdid cut extremely well while in the ed for a few hours the day before air. You know the technical mean- yesterday. It is a wild, horribleing of that word in the dancing-mas- looking place. These miscreants ter's vocabulary. All the airs and had for their captain the curate of a graces of the French opera-dancers, village in the neighbourhood, and their pirouettes, spinning round with they endeavoured to shun detection a horizontal leg, &c. were admira- in this way. They murdered every bly quizzed. One of these dancers passenger whom they stopped, and (dressed like a Dutchman) stopped buried them along with the horses short, after a few capers, and, draw- which they killed. They burned ing a snuff box from his pocket, took the carriages and the baggage, rea pinch; then replaced the box, and serving only the money, watches, set off again with a most exalted ex- rings, &c. The publick were amazample of the entrechat. His partner ed by the disappearance of all the helped herself (from a pocket-pis- travellers going between Florence tol) to a dram, and then recom- and Bologna, for no vestige of them menced her furious exertions! or their carriages, &c. could be The streets of Milan are wonder- found. A celebrated English trafully dark and quiet in the evening. veller mentions that two of his The city seems deserted; and you friends, (Pisans,) passing that road, would almost imagine yourself in rested near Pietra Mala to sleep. the midst of that place (mentioned They had a horrid supper; and the in the Arabian Nights) where the landlady told them she must send inhabitants were turned into stone. two miles for sheets. They observThe contrast between the streets of ed, in the midst of the poverty and Milan and those of Paris or London, filth of the house, that she wore diaof an evening, is quite striking; the mond rings; and this, with the terlatter full of moving life, and light, rible accounts of the place, deterand bustle, and vivacity, and noise, mined them not to remain there. -the former gloomy, silent, and They slipped out of the house before lifeless. midnight, and, fortunately, escaped with their lives. We slept two nights among those wild and dreary mountains, the scenes of so many murders and robberies.

At Bologna I saw nothing remarkable, excepting the bronze Neptune of the fountain by John of Bologna. The arcades that run along the prin