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Read Ebook: Journal of a Tour in the Years 1828-1829 through Styria Carniola and Italy whilst Accompanying the Late Sir Humphry Davy by Tobin J J
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Ebook has 61 lines and 48439 words, and 2 pages
V'? chi a Todini oppone La morte di Leone; Roma per? sostiene Ch 'egli ? operato bene.
And again--
Alle dieci di Febraro, E successo un caso raro, A un Leon creduto forte Diede un asino la morte.
"Sbarcate il fiume, salite il monte, Avrete Sienna in fronte."
The orator is said to have been so astonished at hearing these words from a peasant, that he instantly gave up his intention of preaching to such connoisseurs of Italian, and returned from whence he came. Not only for its pure language is Sienna famous, but also for its beautiful women; and this very justly, for no where have I seen so many well-made and handsome figures as in the streets of this town. The cathedral is one of the strangest buildings I ever saw; it is entirely built of alternate layers of black and white marble, and the Prussian boundary-post which we saw from a distance is its chief tower. The portico is a fine, but very incongruous piece of Gothic architecture; pillars of all sorts and sizes are intermingled with statues of saints, bas-reliefs, horses' heads, and the gaping mouths of dragons, some gilt, some bronze, and others in white marble. The black marble in the interior seemed to overpower the white, and threw a strange and unearthly gloom over the broad aisles as I saw them in the dusk of evening, hung with flags, and lighted with a few flickering tapers, which hardly served to discover here and there some solitary devotee, praying at the altar of his patron saint.
In the evening, after reading to Sir Humphry, I went for an hour to the theatre, where I found a juggler amusing a numerous and delighted assembly with his tricks.
Quitting Massa, we drove over a noble bridge of one lofty arch built entirely of white marble, and after winding across a long hill, we passed through Carrara, near which, in one of the lateral vallies, are the celebrated marble quarries. A little beyond this village we entered the Piedmontese territory and the dominions of the King of Sardinia, and soon arrived at Sarzana, a small ill-looking town. It being Sunday, the road and town were covered with peasants in their holiday suits: the dress of the women is one of the oddest I have yet seen; they wear no stockings, and their clothes seem huddled on all in a bundle; their hair is drawn away from their foreheads, and tied up behind in a bag of silk, of different colours, some red, some blue, some black, and always with three or four tassels hanging down from the end, whilst on the top of this bag is stuck the funniest little straw hat possible, looking much like a soup plate turned topsy-turvy, and made of frizzled straw, ornamented with coloured ribbons. The women of a higher rank wear white veils over their heads, and no bags.
Mare senza pesce, Montagne senza legno, Donna senza pudore,
which is often applied to Genoa. I went one evening to the theatre, after Sir Humphry had retired to bed, and was much amused by a magnificent ballet, Carlo di Borgogna, which, however, ended in a very tragical manner, the heroine being struck dead by lightning amongst rocks and snow, and precipitated into a roaring torrent. The theatre is quite new, and is splendidly decorated.
Lady Davy and the Doctor also quitted him, and George went to bed in his master's room, as he always had done since Sir Humphry's illness at Rome. At six o'clock this morning, Lady Davy's man-servant came to my room, and told me that Sir Humphry Davy was no more. I replied that it was impossible, and that he probably only lay in a torpor; but I went down to his room instantly, when I found that the servant's words were, alas! but too true. I asked George why he had not called me, when he said that he had sent up, but now found that it had been to a wrong room. He told me that Sir Humphry went to sleep after we had left him, but that he had twice waked, and that at half-past one, hearing him get out of bed, he went to him, when Sir Humphry said he did not want his assistance, and poured some solution of acetate of morphine into a wine glass of water; but this still remained untouched upon his table. George then helped him into bed, where he says he lay quite still till a little after two o'clock, when hearing him groan, he went to him, and found that he was senseless and expiring. He instantly called up Lady Davy and the Doctor, and sent up, as he believed, to me; but Sir Humphry, he says, never spoke again, and expired without a sigh.
I had so often, whilst at Rome, seen Sir Humphry lie for hours together in a state of torpor, and to all appearance dead, that it was difficult for me to persuade myself of the truth; but the delusion at length vanished, and it became too evident that all that remained before me of this great philosopher, was merely the cold and senseless frame with which he had worked. The animating spirit had fled to its oft self-imagined planetary world, there to join the rejoicing souls of the great and good of past ages, soaring from system to system, and with them still to do good in a higher and less bounded sphere, and I knew that it was freed from many a wearisome and painful toil: yet I could not look upon Sir Humphry as he was, without remembering that which he had been, and my tears would fall, spite of my effort to restrain them.
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