tenthevening

"iknewanoldmaid,"saidthemoon."everywintersheworeawrapperofyellowsatin,anditalwaysremainednew,andwastheonlyfashionshefollowed.insummershealwaysworethesamestrawhat,andiverilybelievetheverysamegray-bluedress.

"sheneverwentout,exceptacrossthestreettoanoldfemalefriend;andinlateryearsshedidnoteventakethiswalk,fortheoldfriendwasdead.inhersolitudemyoldmaidwasalwaysbusyatthewindow,whichwasadornedinsummerwithprettyflowers,andinwinterwithcress,grownuponfelt.duringthelastmonthsisawhernomoreatthewindow,butshewasstillalive.iknewthat,forihadnotyetseenherbeginthe'longjourney,'ofwhichsheoftenspokewithherfriend.'yes,yes,'shewasinthehabitofsaying,whenicometodieishalltakealongerjourneythanihavemademywholelifelong.ourfamilyvaultissixmilesfromhere.ishallbecarriedthere,andshallsleepthereamongmyfamilyandrelatives.'lastnightavanstoppedatthehouse.acoffinwascarriedout,andtheniknewthatshewasdead.theyplacedstrawroundthecoffin,andthevandroveaway.theresleptthequietoldlady,whohadnotgoneoutofherhouseonceforthelastyear.thevanrolledoutthroughthetown-gateasbrisklyasifitweregoingforapleasantthehigh-roadthepacewasquickeryet.thecoachmanlookednervouslyroundeverynowandthen-ifancyhehalfexpectedtoseehersittingonthecoffin,inheryellowsatinwrapper.andbecausehewasstartled,hefoolishlylashedhishorses,whileheheldthereinssotightlythatthepoorbeastswereinafoam:theywereyoungandfiery.aharejumpedacrosstheroadandstartledthem,andtheyfairlyranaway.theoldsobermaiden,whohadforyearsandyearsmovedquietlyroundandroundinadullcircle,wasnow,indeath,rattledoverstockandstoneonthepublichighway.thecoffininitscoveringofstrawtumbledoutofthevan,andwasleftonthehigh-road,whilehorses,coachman,andcarriageflewpastinwildcareer.thelarkroseupcarollingfromthefield,twitteringhermorninglayoverthecoffin,andpresentlypercheduponit,pickingwithherbeakatthestrawcovering,asthoughshewouldtearitlarkroseupagain,singinggaily,andiwithdrewbehindtheredmorningclouds."

eleventhevening

"iwillgiveyouapictureofpompeii,"saidthemoon."iwasinthesuburbinthestreetoftombs,astheycallit,wherethefairmonumentsstand,inthespotwhere,agesago,themerryyouths,theirtemplesboundwithrosywreaths,dancedwiththefairsistersoflais.now,thestillnessofdeathreignedaround.germanmercenaries,intheneapolitanservice,keptguard,playedcards,anddiced;andatroopofstrangersfrombeyondthemountainscameintothetown,accompaniedbyasentry.theywantedtoseethecitythathadrisenfromthegraveilluminedbymybeams;andishowedthemthewheel-rutsinthestreetspavedwithbroadlavaslabs;ishowedthemthenamesonthedoors,andthesignsthathungthereyet:theysawinthelittlecourtyardthebasinsofthefountains,ornamentedwithshells;butnojetofwatergushedupwards,nosongssoundedforthfromtherichly-paintedchambers,wherethebronzedogkeptthedoor.

"itwasthecityofthedead;onlyvesuviusthunderedforthhiseverlastinghymn,eachseparateverseofwhichiscalledbymenaneruption.wewenttothetempleofvenus,builtofsnow-whitemarble,withitshighaltarinfrontofthebroadsteps,andtheweepingwillowssproutingfreshlyforthamongthepillars.theairwastransparentandblue,andblackvesuviusformedthebackground,withfireevershootingforthfromit,likethestemofthepineboveitstretchedthesmokycloudinthesilenceofthenight,likethecrownofthepine,butinablood-redillumination.amongthecompanywasaladysinger,arealandgreatsinger.ihavewitnessedthehomagepaidtoherinthegreatestcitiesofeurope.whentheycametothetragictheatre,theyallsatdownontheamphitheatresteps,andthusasmallpartofthehousewasoccupiedbyanaudience,asithadbeenmanycenturiesago.thestagestillstoodunchanged,withitswalledside-scenes,andthetwoarchesinthebackground,throughwhichthebeholderssawthesamescenethathadbeenexhibitedintheoldtimes-ascenepaintedbynatureherself,namely,themountainsbetweensorentoandamalfi.thesingergailymountedtheancientstage,andsang.theplaceinspiredher,andsheremindedmeofawildarabhorse,thatrushesheadlongonwithsnortingnostrilsandflyingmane-hersongwassolightandyetsofirm.anonithoughtofthemourningmotherbeneaththecrossatgolgotha,sodeepwastheexpressionofpain.and,justasithaddonethousandsofyearsago,thesoundofapplauseanddelightnowfilledthetheatre.'happy,giftedcreature!