The only
egregious mistake he made was that he thought the Austrians had
gradually poisoned the Duke of Reichstadt, because he threatened to
become even more formidable than his father. But that the old grenadier
might easily have believed. The thing that astonished me was that the
narrative did not make the slightest impression upon either Maria or
Filomena. I asked Filomena if she did not think it was very remarkable.
But she clearly had a suspicion that it was all lies, besides, what has
happened in the world before her day is of as little importance to her
as what goes on in another planet; finally, she abominates war.
_Zio_ concluded his story with childlike self-satisfaction: "When I
learnt about all this, I was only an apprentice; now I am _mastro
Nino_."
These last few days that I have been able to stumble about the room a
little, I have had a feeling of delight and happiness such as I have
hardly experienced before. The very air is a fete. The little black-
haired youngsters, running about this picturesquely steep street, are my
delight, whenever I look out of the window. All that is in front of me:
the splendours of Rome, the Summer, the art of Italy, Naples in the
South, Venice in the North, makes my heart beat fast and my head swim. I
only need to turn round from the window and see Filomena standing behind
me, knitting, posed like a living picture by Kuechler to feel, with
jubilation: I am in Rome.
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