NAPLES. 139 



was annoying enough, owing to insufficient preparation for it. 

 The shores of the " Regno," as the Kingdom of Naples 

 is called, have been described by one who lived there, Mas- 

 simo d' Azeglio, in his novel of " ICttore Fieramosca : 



"Era rindomani della ceiia : il priino chiarore (leH'alba faceva 

 appena all'orizzonte distingnere dal cielo la brnna linea del mare, quando 

 il giovane Fieramosca, lasciato il lelto ove non sempre Irovava sonni 

 tranqiiilli, iisci su un terrazo, a piedi del quale venivano a batter I'onde 

 leggermente agitate dal fresco venticello della mattina. 



" Poveri alntanti del setteiitrioue ! Non sapete qnanto valga quest' 

 ora sottoun bel cielo del mezzogiorno, in riva al mare, mentre la naturae 

 aucora tutta nel sonno, e questosilenzio viene appena interrotto dal sordo 

 gorgoglio deH'onda die, al pari del pensiero, non ebbe mai riposo dal 

 di die fu creata, ne I'avra finclie piii non sia. Chi non s' e trovato solo 

 a quest' ora, clii non ha scutito sventolarsi presso il viso rultimo batter 

 d' ala della nottohi niattutina nel principiar del caldo sulle belle coste 

 del regno, non sa sin dove giunga la divina bellezza delle cose create." 



The very dogs and cats in Italy know the passage in the 

 original ; but take the English : — 



" It was the morrow of the supper. The first faint gleam of dawn 

 had hardly begun to mark the sombre line of the horizon on the sea 

 when 3'oung Fieramosca, quitting a couch where he did not always find 

 tranquil sleep, came out upon a terrace at whose base the tiny waves, 

 moved by the cool, soft breeze, were beating. 



" Unhappy dwellers in the North, that cannot know what this hour 

 is under a southern sky, and on the sea shore, while all nature is as yet 

 in sluinVier, and the silence is hardly broken by the dull murmur of tlie 

 waves, which, like our thoughts, have never been an instant still since 

 the day they were created, nor ever will be until they are no more ! He 

 who has never been alone at such a moment to feel his cheek fanned by 

 the last morning flutter of the bat, when early summer heat is setting 

 in upon the lovely shores of the Regno, knows not how divinely beauti- 

 tiful can be the features of creation " 



Now hear a description of the Bay of Naples by one who, 

 if we may believe it, never saw the place : — 



My soul to-day 

 Is far away. 

 Sailing the Vesuvian Bay ; 



