Amongst them from the Carnival, all talking at once, and
coming straight in to me to show me their dress. Amongst them are guests
from the mountains, tall, dark men, in exceedingly fantastic garb. They
tell me how much they have enjoyed themselves. Filomena has naively made
me a present of a few burnt almonds with sugar upon them, that she has
had in her trouser pockets, and informs me with impetuous volubility how
she has talked to all the people she met, "who do not know her and whom
she does not know." She has had one of my white shirts on, which she had
embroidered all over with ribbons till it looked like a real costume.
She is beaming with happiness. The tambourine tinkles all the evening in
the street; they are dancing the tarantella to it down below, and it is
difficult to go to sleep. Maria stays behind, when the others have gone,
to finish her day's work. It is a sight for the gods to see her doing it
with a gold brocade cap on her head, and in red, white and green
trousers!
None of them guess what a torment it is to me to lie and hear about the
Carnival, which is going on a few streets from where I am lying, but
which I cannot see. When shall I spend a Winter in Rome again? And no
other Carnival will be to compare with this one after the Romans for ten
years have held altogether aloof from it, and one hardly even on
_Moccoli Eve_ saw more than two carriages full of silly Americans
pelting one another with confetti, while the porters and the French
soldiers flung jibes and dirt at each other.
Pages:
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534